I gingerly pulled Fraser's arm from across my chest and slowly moved my hips forward to pull my channel off his now-flaccid cock. There was nothing wrong with the length of him—that was his most notable feature for someone looking for sex from another man. He could remain deep inside me flaccid after a side-splitting fuck like we had just had. He was the onl...
On Sunday, April 28, 1793, the bells in towers of the harbor town of Charlotta rang out at 2 p.m. They were calling all nobles on the inland sea island of St. Silvus to the wedding of Reginald Reynolds, the governor-general's son, the most magnificently formed and handsome of the most physically gifted countrymen on the face of the earth. At that precise mom...
Chapter One: New Year's Eve 1989 There were four of them on the bed in the second-floor master bedroom of the Baccarat Hotel and Residence Condo building on Manhattan's West 53rd Street, conveniently located near the Broadway theater district. The caterers were downstairs in the living area doing last-minute preparations for Ted Sullivan's early-evening buf...
I was bent over on my belly on the conference table and the hunky blond attorney was riding me hard from behind. I still had on my tie; my shirt, unbuttoned; and my shoes and socks clipped to supporters wound just below my knees. But otherwise I was naked. He started a maddening rotation of his cock inside me, and I was giving little urping sounds. To let th...
As I walked through the goodwill searching in vain for the green turtleneck that would really put my Steve Bartman costume over the top, I thought back over the past few months. Having moved to a new city and started working at a job that I, at first, thought was beneath me, things were starting to look up. They say that you can get through anything if you h...
Chapter Seven: Interlude Two As Abazar finished the melodious telling of his story, the golden youth, Michael was kneeling between his spread thighs and sucking on the bulb of his cock. Abazar's hands where playing in the curly blond hair of the beautiful youth, and he leaned down and kissed him on the head. Michael was in a haze still, having heard and ab...
Still going through those letters. Fitz seems to have been one of the only one of Oscar's friends to commit this much detail to paper. Others, notably a chap I'll call Fitz and another called Wood, don't do it as often, while Oscar's cousin Litton, a complete rake, tended to go through so many he couldn't remember many details. But Fitz is down for the blow-...
It was about 10:30 at night and I was lying in bed with a raging pardon with three of my fingers up my well lubed hole. Just then I heard the front door open and close; someone had come in and went into the downstairs bedrooms. Ten minutes later I heard soft foot steps coming up to the master bedroom loft and looked over toward the stairs to see Sergey com...
It had just been a kiss and a grope in the underground garage of the American embassy in Brussels. I'd pulled away from him and told him that he'd misjudged—that I wouldn't report him that time, but that he'd misjudged me and he should stay well away from me from then on or I'd have to report him. I wouldn't report him, though, I didn't want there to be any...
The neglected classic of erotica called 'Horatio Cockblower', published under what is most likely the pseudonym 'Dick Diver', is a kind of sado-erotic version of CS Forester, set in maritime Napoleonic days. It is geographically incorrectly subtitled 'a tale from down-under', unless that's intended as a pun on the genital zones? In their exhaustive study of...