Part of the 'Butt Monkey' series of stories by Robert Furlong === I scrolled down the pictures of men's underwear filling the screen, trying to locate the Calvin Klein boxer briefs Jake prefers. If I bought him the wrong ones, he'd wear them once and then that would be it. He'd say they were uncomfortable or they chaffed at his thighs or they rode up into...
This work is copywrited and is property of the author. It may not be reproduced, borrowed, put on some website or even printed out and made into paper airplanes without the permission of the author. Any resemblance to any people alive or dead, or any event is purely coincidental, unless A) You are a koo-koo for cocoa puffs delusional psychopath (in which c...
Monday. A day that on its own was already bad enough, and I had extra baggage of the conversation I had with my dad the previous night. I spent the night thinking about what he said, hoping that somehow I could make him happy. I knew I couldn't do what he was asking for, to pretend to be straight, but maybe I could make him happy another way. "Hey handsome...
As I look back on my coaching career, I can't help but smile. I've got a respectable record of wins and season trophies, a long list of young men trained as sportsmen, and a couple of Most Valuable Teacher awards. I also keep a private list of names and telephone numbers. Men, you see, come in three varieties, and three only: * Curious (wants to try sex w...
We proudly present the first in a series of unjustly neglected underground classics of erotica, revived and reinterpreted for your entertainment and pleasure by Tristan Trotsky, a noted dilettante of decadent literature. * Erotica is wonderful. The only genre of literature with the potential to produce a directly observable physical change in the reader. I...
I drove home exhausted from the sexual intensity and violation of the day. My clothes, skin and taste buds were sticky and reeking from our commingled ejaculate, juices and raw funk. But I was hard and loving it. As I pulled into my driveway, dad was washing his Beamer. I didn't want to stop to talk; I was afraid he'd smell the scent of another man all over...
Part Eleven: By mid-April Roy and I were in Cordele, Georgia, working our way up I75 on our way to Tennessee. Roy got us through the advance work for the stand there in time to have a day off. He knew of a swimming hole outside of town he said would be ideal for a skinny dip. It was our first since the one that preceded him inviting me into his bed. That s...
NOT FOR THE first time in the last hour, the thought that maybe — just maybe — leaving his house to take a look at the festivities hadn't been such a great idea crossed Luke's mind. He gave himself a reprieve from the colourful fanfare and closed his eyes. The deep breath helped him get a grip on the pain radiating from his left leg after exerting it more t...
Ch5- The Beautiful I hated them! They were my parents. How could they be like that? Did they not have slightest ounce of humanity? I was their freaking SON! All those stories about happy 'coming outs', all a pile of bull shit! I was angry, I was hurt and I was scared. I was angry at god for making me like this- GAY. Why me? Why did I have those sorts of pa...
Walking up the stairs, Melania heard her brother Lucas walking around his room. She wondered about his and Calen's outing to the property earlier. The expression she saw on Luke's face when Calen walked in during the meeting was priceless. She knew she HAD to bug him about it. "Hey can I come in?" Melania asked as she softly knocked on Luke's slightly opene...