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Desdmona's Erotic Story Contests
2004 1K Bedtime Flash Contest
Honorable Mention


Sunny had a toothache. Another sleepless night for yours truly.

“Oh, it hurts, Steve,” he sobbed into my shirt.

“I know,” I said, patting his spiky head.

"Shut up!" Ken screamed from his filthy nest. Never mind that cars and semis were zooming by overhead with a deafening roar.

The underpass was always crowded. No one liked the missions.

“Shut the fuck up yourself, asshole,” Pinky mumbled.

It just made Sunny cry even harder. The poor kid was miserable.

It was late summer and the nights were getting cold. I felt bad, but I really wanted to plug the kid myself. Three days of whining and crying, no sex, very little sleep. I took a lot for Sunny, kept him safe , always had scars and knots on my bald head from fighting. It was worth it, but goddamn.

I got up, walked down the sloping cement to the thicket of weeds at the bottom, and whacked off, spurting jizz across the dried flower heads.

Finally the pale grey light of morning dawned. Sparrows nesting in the cross-beams made their first peeps. Traffic was louder and steadier. Sunny was curled up in a ball against my chest.

“Come on, Sunny.” I shook him. “The clinic opens at seven and it’s always mobbed. We have to get there early.”

So far, Sunny had refused to go. The way they treated toothache was to yank the offending tooth. You couldn’t expect them to fill cavities or do root canals or crowns for free. The most they could do was keep your bad tooth from poisoning and killing you.

But after three solid days of misery, I figured Sunny would let his precious tooth go.

I knew how he felt. Sunny was pretty. His looks got him lots of things. I was pretty once. But life on the street is hard. Looks don’t last. This was Sunny’s first loss, the beauty of his wide smile.

We arrived on foot at the clinic at 6:30. The line was already halfway down the block. Sunny finally made it in at 8:30. He wanted me to go with him and hold his hand, but I couldn’t. The sight of his blood would have made me puke. I gave him a hug and a kiss instead.

I waited for Sunny behind the building, sitting on a cement retaining wall, smoking hand rolled cigarettes, taking the occasional sip from a flask of gin. I tried to read my novel but couldn’t concentrate. I worried about Sunny, friendless, the dentist pulling hard on his tooth with a pair of sterilized pliers.

With the prison tattoos on my hands and neck and the fresh scars on my bald head and mean face, I’m a scary looking man. Nevertheless, plenty of the waiting downtrodden glanced my way, hoping for a welcoming nod so they could sponge cigarettes and booze. I gave them the “fuck with me and I’ll kill you” look. And quite frankly, I meant it. It would be doing some of these people a favor.

Sunny came out holding a plastic bag of ice to his jaw. He pulled it away and opened his mouth, showing me the bloody packing where his tooth used to be. He looked dazed and wrung out.

“I dih it, Shtee.” he said. “No moh toof.” His eyes were sad.

I turned away, fighting nausea. “Yes, I see.” I said. “Close your mouth, Sunny.”


“Ah, come here.” I pulled him on my lap and kissed his eyebrow. “How’s my Sunny boy doing?”

“Oh ay.”

I put my hand in his shirt and felt the smooth skin over his ribs and belly. I dipped into the hairy froth just inside his jeans. Sunny melted into me and mashed his lips into my neck. Somehow he wedged his tongue past the packing. It gave me the shivers.

The rear of the clinic abutted Bartlett Park. I thought of the clump of woods people called Fag Forest. It wasn’t far.

“Fag Forest,” I whispered in the ear of the warm, soft-skinned, sexy boy on my lap. Sunny drew back and we locked eyes, lost to the world.

“Come on.” I stepped up on the wall and Sunny followed. We made our way across the grass to the asphalt trail that led past the woods.

The willows seemed to shimmer. The sky’s brilliant blue seemed stronger, almost alive. The roar of traffic sounded like a river, or kids on a playground, or a murmuring crowd.

We detoured down one of the thin trails into the heart of Fag Forest. Traffic noise receded as we got further in. The snap of sticks as we walked echoed in the growing silence.

Sunny stopped and pulled me to him, pressed his hard-on next to mine. We staggered off the trail until we slammed into a large maple, buried in a cloud of jewelweed. Sunny squeezed me tight. I wedged my hands between us to unbutton his jeans, gave them a shove down.

He pulled off his t-shirt and hung it on a branch. I stopped breathing. He stepped out of his kicks and jeans. Naked, smooth, muscled; my boy in the forest. Shifting leaf reflections made him glow like a god.

My whole essence zoomed into my cock.

Sunny turned his face to a ray of sun. I looked at the lump in his smile, got up my courage and kissed it. His smile grew broader, though still a little sad, and he made a sound deep in his throat.

I slid down to my knees on the soft ground, kissing the velvet cock that reached for me. The smell of him. I buried my face in his fur, tasting his balls, kneading the smooth skin, the lean muscles of my beautiful boy.

I took him in my mouth, sucked and pulled him in deeper.

“Oh, Shtee,” Sunny mumbled. He put his hands on my shiny head, rubbed the scars and lumps.

It hurt, but not too bad.

goodrichdirt has been making stories since forever, when tiny people lived in the heating ducts. The good people of’s Fish Tank are the reason for goodrichdirt’s successes in the realm of literary erotica. Her story “Typing Away at the Kitchen Table” won first prize in an earlier Desdmona contest.

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Desdmona's Erotic Story Contests
2004 1K Bedtime Flash Contest
Honorable Mention