A Fourth Very Dirty Dozen

Hank Edwards has selected 10 steamy short stories previously published in erotic magazines and anthologies, plus 2 never before published stories, for this fourth collection of hot reads. Come on in and lose yourself in unique stories like "Rick’s Greasy (S)poon,” "Charlie Does the Big Top," or "Rest Stop Reunion." You'll meet hot bears in a frozen, apocalyptic wasteland, a horny, hungry college student, a group of dirty-minded friends who throw inhibitions to the wind during a poker game, and a return of LA’s favorite funny and clumsy fluffer for hire, Charlie Heggensford. Keep this collection top of your list for hot, sizzling stories that'll keep you coming back for more!


This excerpt is from the short story "Charlie Does the Big Top," starring everyone's favorite fluffer-for-hire, Charlie Heggensford!

And now, it seemed that Cedric Wilmington was directing a circus-themed movie and Charlie and Billy had been assigned to his set. He wondered if sometimes Kinitia scheduled him to Cedric’s sets as a punishment for all the trouble he had caused her over the years.

“Heads up!” someone shouted and Charlie looked up in time to walk into the side of an elephant.

He fell flat on his back and felt all the air leave his lungs in one great whoosh. Momentarily dazed, he lay looking up at the gray underbelly of the elephant until hands grabbed him beneath the arms and pulled him out and up into a sitting position.

“You okay, mate?” a smooth, deep voice asked in an Australian accent.


Charlie turned his head and looked into a pair of warm blue eyes within a handsome, tanned face. The man had thinning brown hair, a square jaw, broad shoulders, and, when he crouched beside Charlie, his thighs bulged with muscle.

Nodding, Charlie tried to catch his breath but couldn’t seem to get his lungs to work. He gasped for air, and then suddenly found himself bent over with his head between his knees, a firm but gentle pressure on the back of his neck.

“You’ll be all right,” the man said, “just got the wind knocked out of ya. Maybelle didn’t even notice you walked right into her, she was too focused on getting to her lunch to mind the likes of you.”

Finally able to breathe again, Charlie raised his head and managed to say, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The man stuck out his hand. “Ivan Wrightfork, elephant handler.”

“Oh for the love of Dumbo,” Billy said, stomping up. “Don’t tell me you’ve already broken something.” He stopped short when he caught sight of Ivan. “Well, hello, Dr. Doolittle, care to talk to my animal?”

Ivan chuckled and stood, helping Charlie to his feet. “He’ll be okay.”

Billy threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, that’s just Charlie, always falling down or knocking over something. He’s a little clumsy.”

“Not a bother,” Ivan said, and tipped Charlie a wink. “Maybelle didn’t seem to mind. So, are you two in the movie they’re filming here today?”

“Oh, how you talk!” Billy said. “We’re not actors, but we do know a lot of them.” He leaned in and stage whispered, “In the biblical sense.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “What Billy’s trying to say is, we’re fluffers.”

“Really? Well, it’s good to know someone on the set.” Ivan leaned in closer. “It’s my first time in a movie.”

Charlie felt his mouth drop open. “You’re an actor?”

Ivan shrugged. “The location scout asked around for anyone interested, and a few of us signed on. We circus folk are pretty open-minded about alternative lifestyles, so we’re excited you’re here.”

“Oh, honey,” Billy purred, “we’re excited to be here.”

Ivan grinned. “What’re your names?”

Billy’s hand was out first. “Billy Ransom. As in kidnap me and hold me for.”

Ivan smiled and turned to Charlie. “And you?”

“Charlie Heggensford.”

“Whoa, that’s a mouthful,” Ivan replied.

The bullhorn crackled again and Cedric’s petulant voice shrieked, “Where the fuck are the fucking fluffers?!”

Ivan’s eyes grew wide. “Who is that?”

“Your director,” Charlie said with a sigh. “We’d better go. See you on the set.”

They arrived at a side entrance to the big top tent to find Cedric Wilmington standing there, hands on hips, bullhorn dangling along one leg. He was large and sweaty and possessed one of the worst dispositions Charlie had ever encountered. Today, he wore a gauzy, bright yellow pantsuit with pedal pusher bottoms and flip-flops the color of traffic cones. Cedric’s cold, blue-gray eyes were narrowed with annoyance as they approached.

“Oh, well, here they are at last: Mary and Rhoda.”

“Who?” Billy said, his face screwed up in confusion.

Cedric rolled his eyes and waved for them to enter the tent, the bullhorn swinging wildly from his wrist and nearly striking him in the face. Cedric let out a sigh of impatience and followed along behind, his flip-flops slapping with each step.

“Well, now that the fluffers have decided to show up, we can get started,” Cedric groused and flicked his fingers in the direction of a number of actors made up as clowns. “Those two clowns are up first, get over there and get on your knees.”

Charlie and Billy walked around the tripods and light stands and Charlie miraculously avoided knocking anything down. They stood before the group of men in clown makeup for a moment, then Billy leaned over to whisper to Charlie, “Which two?”

Charlie shrugged, then asked, “Which of you are in the next scene?”

All of the men raised their hands and Charlie sighed. “Okay. Which of you is first up in this scene?”

Once more, all of the men raised their hands.

Billy shook his head and said with a disgusted sigh, “Clowns.” He turned to Charlie. “Let’s just split them up between us and get started. There’re only eight of them.”


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