Tags » Joseph Mcelroy

The continent buckled upward

National Orgasm of Women. The continent buckled upward, it bowed and shifted and waved. Arrived through her in order to belong to others.

Joseph McElroy, Women and Men

Literature

breath rising in praise

Her neighbors up in the penthouse felt their floors bowing and their roller skates rolling down to all the corners of their home. All coming together roughly to some point. 25 more words

Literature

a menu of life-style choices

She had designed sessions with fifteen women and men around the edges of her Body Room: fifteen vibrators at once, with Grace in the middle, that’s sixteen, until the collective energy rose peacefully from the group, and some people made noise, Cliff always, but not Desmond, who was all legs with thighs of a bike racer and later asked Maureen to tell him her trip again and asked Grace if his fruitarian diet might be why he was ejaculating a foot further than before, beyond the small towels Grace had distributed, beyond the small, woolly rug he himself was on, and onto the free spaces of the brown carpet: Grace said she would have licked it up wet if she had known all that protein was going to waste on her rug. 28 more words

Literature

happily jerking off

Yes that’s how I see myself at eighty, eighty-five, ninety-five, a hundred in my wheelchair at the home with all the sisters, we’re all in our chairs in front of our TVs, good TV porn funded by a government inspired by the Goddess, a Body-Sex government decentralized all over the land, California, Florida, and here we all are, a bunch of happy old ladies in our wheelchairs, our vibrators plugged in, happily jerking off.

Joseph McElroy, Women and Men

Literature

an Italian-looking stud

She stacked some Forums to throw out. Give the neighbors a thrill when they visit the trashroom. She paused over one with a photo of a blonde kneeling behind an Italian-looking stud on a carpet somewhere, side-frontal but discreet. 79 more words

Literature

a yellow mixing bowl

“Girls,” her brother said, out of breath putting down a half-drunk quart bottle of milk on the table beside a yellow mixing bowl, “always think you’re looking at them.”

Joseph McElroy, Women and Men

Literature