*If you're just getting to this story for the first time, welcome... but please know you've arrived at chapter 3 of a series that makes more sense when read from the beginning. Also, please be warned- this story is geared to those who enjoy a SLOW BURN and mental kink as much as the physical. ----------------------------- Somehow, I dragged my sorry ass t...
There was this strange flier under my door when I got home from work. It looked like an advertisement for some Gay circuit party or club. "Build Your Bear" was across the top in big bold letters, with a hairy muscle stud underneath in just a jock, his arms crossed with a friendly smile on his scruffy face. I couldn't find an address or phone number on the...
It had been a long day out in town, and I was glad to get settled on the late train. The station had been quiet at that time of night and I was looking forward to a couple of hours sleep. I had been shopping and had had a good time with some old mates from college. It always fun having a couple of beers and a laugh, but the trip home was a real nuisance. Tow...
From the outdoor cafe across the street, Malafacha watched in disgust as his henchmen turned a simple jewelry-store stickup into shambles. He saw a woman run from the tony shop only to be caught in the doorway by a burst of submachine gun fire; an almost-straight line of red holes popped across her waistline. Too bad: They ruined a beautiful yellow platilla...
"Yes, I recognize that." Until this point, I had been truly confused why I had been called out of the departure line on the flight from Miami to Key West and ushered into this windowless room down a nondescript corridor behind the scenes back at the main terminal building. But now that I saw my business card and the metallic blue knitting needle, it all fel...
At this moment, Mike shakes like a corned rattler and, his hysterical conscious screams in his skull: I will get through this. You will get one more chance to be a great artist. Cool sweat pools above Mike's ass. His mind buzzes like the dim light over the dumpster. Beige spitball bugs swarm it in figure eights. His leg burns as 'fight or flight' blood poo...
Mark and Dan had spent most of their years in the suburbs living a quiet life where they never quite experienced any trouble. Mark was a working man at a law firm who spent most days at work and met Dan nights for romance, while Dan the loyal fiancé who spent most of his days in the local gym working as a personal trainer. Dan was a larger more muscular man...
I heard the chimes quite clearly. Even in self-induced narcolepsy something nagged away annoyingly enough to risk a slight opening of my eyes. Gladly the room was familiar. Austere enough certainly, very little to appeal to any but the most disengaged esthetically, in every sense my perfect room. The air was cold. The little flesh on my bones tended to offer...
I had a late lunch hour and decided to spend it at the mall. While wandering through the big department store, I found a display of 'European-style trunk' underwear. They were something like boxer-briefs but with short-short legs. The trunks reminded me of the bathing suit Daniel Craig wore in the latest James Bond movie, but this was definitely underwear, n...
Parts 1-6 of this story should be read first Chapter Thirty-seven: Sandro begins his second year at Camford I am not pleased with the author's portrayal of me, Sandro, during my first year as a student at Saint Boniface's College, Camford. He makes me seem a shy and naïve adolescent. So for the remainder of this story, the chapters about me will be written...