In the Flesh is a monthly reading series held the third Thursday of every month at the appropriately named Happy Ending Lounge, and features the city's best erotic writers sharing stories to get you hot and bothered, hosted and curated by erotic writer/editor Rachel Kramer Bussel (Best Sex Writing series, Do Not Disturb, Spanked, Dirty Girls, etc.). From erotic poetry to down and dirty smut, these authors get naked on the page and will make you lust after them and their words. Themed nights have included True Sex Confessions, Revenge of the Sex Columnists, GLBT Night, and Comedy Sex. Readers have included Laura Antoniou, Mo Beasley, Susie Bright, Lily Burana, Jessica Cutler, Stephen Elliott, Martha Garvey, Gael Greene, Andy Horwitz, Debra Hyde, Maxim Jakubowski, Josh Kilmer-Purcell, Tsaurah Litzky, Suzanne Portnoy, Sofia Quintero, M.J. Rose, Danyel Smith, Grant Stoddard, Cecilia Tan, Carol Taylor, Veronica Vera, Zane and others. In The Flesh debuted in October 2005. Contact rachelkramerbussel at gmail.com for bookings, press, or questions. Click here In The Flesh: Los Angeles. “…writer and host Rachel Kramer Bussel welcomes eroticism of all stripes, spots and textures to the Happy Ending lounge on the Lower East Side.,” New York Times UrbanEye newsletter, August 15, 2007 email rachelkramerbussel at gmail.com for booking or other information or interview requests

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Cherry Bomb's hauntingly beautiful words

With Cherry Bomb at In The Flesh
Cherry Bomb and me

We'll have video up soon, so you can hear Cherry Bomb read her True Sex Confession in her sexy, gorgeous voice, but I'm so glad she put up the piece she read. It was hauntingly beautiful, the kind of piece I could get lost in, the kind of piece I'd love to publish. Read it now, here's an excerpt:

I am the girl that wants everyone and everything. The girl with the uncontrollable lust and insatiable hunger.

But color me misunderstood. It’s never just the sex that I want. Fucking just for fucking’s sake is devoid of my trademark longing and romance. It’s base, animalistic, and I am nothing if not emotionally evolved. Sex is an exchange. Sex is what I use to tap people like Maple trees, driving through their bark, and waiting for that delicious, liquid inner core to come slowly dripping out into my hands, into my heart. It isn’t done casually, ever, because I am one half of that attachment. Of that tangle of hands and lips and hearts and tongues. I am excruciatingly devoted; if you let me in, then my heart will never let you go, and all I want is everything...

Sex is my resolution, my bond, my promise for retribution. I dream of wielding sex like Lady Vengeance, enticing my former musician love away from her meek new girlfriend, coaxing her into my bed, and winning her back between my sheets. That's the way it always was for the two of us...love folded over anger, the former triumphing over the latter, rising like a phoenix. We were the story of fucking as survival...