A Cops Thanksgiving

© 2008 James Buchanan

Rated: Explicit

Technorati Tags: Nate and Caesar,free fiction

 

Caesar stretched and yawned. One of those lazy Saturday mornings he and Nate got so few of. 'Course with both their habits it was more like noon, but still, wake up, screw around, doze, repeat. Pretty good way to blow a day.

Nate nuzzled into his armpit, tickling Caesar's skin with his tongue. "What time is it?"

Another yawn stretched his jaw wide as Caesar turned to look at the clock. "Once media, más o menos."

"We should get up and head out." The words had nothing to do with Nate's actions. Instead of rolling out of bed, Nate's hand wandered down to dance along Caesar's prick.

That was a much better idea than shucking the sheets. Caesar's dick began to swell in response to the delicious touch. "We should stay here," Caesar scooted down a bit so that he could reach Nate's fat prick, "and let me stroke you."

Nate kissed up his neck drawing a little trail of shivers along Caesar's skin. "Dinner's at two." He whispered it, blowing across the damp flesh. Another shudder hit Caesar's body.

"We got plenty of time then." He wrapped his fist around Nate's cock, pumping him up.

Nate hissed. "To make it to Porter Ranch?"

"To make you get off." Caesar kissed him. Nate tasted like mornings and sleep. Tasted damn good. He broke off for a second and added, "Make me get off." Then he was finished with talking.

He grabbed Nate's wrists as he drove his lips onto the other man's. Nate opened up, teased Caesar's tongue into his mouth. With a groan, Caesar rolled on top and pinned Nate's arms about his head. Took a bit of wrangling, but he got both Nate's wrists into one hand. Then he reached down and pushed both their shorts off their hips. A lot of struggling and wiggling, but Nate didn't fight him…or help him. Cabron.

With a grunt, stifled by Nate's kiss, Caesar thrust against Nate's groin. Nate stiffened and hissed. He tried to free his wrists, but Caesar used his now free hand to grab him before he could snake his own grip between them. If Nate didn't want to help before, he could just go along for the ride.

A really short ride.

Heat built quickly in Caesars groin. He humped Nate's hips, grinding them together. Nate moaned into their kiss, the sound vibrating down Caesar's spine. Nate bucked up adding his own frantic rhythm to the mix. That wonderful dick sliding against his; Caesar shuddered with every move. Slick pre-cum and sweat soon coated both of them adding wet heat to the friction.

Caesar broke from the kiss and buried his face into Nate's throat. Musk still clung to his skin from earlier that morning and a damp sheen soaked the hair on Nate's chest. Their exertions added another, more urgent and heady aroma. Caesar drowned in the scent of him.

Nate flexed his head back and mumbled, "Fuck, like that…just fuck." God he loved it when Nate babbled. It ratcheted his desire up to insane levels. A few more thrusts and Caesar lost it. Heat took him over, rolling through his frame in waves. Cum shot between them and coated both their bellies. Panting, shaking a little, Caesar collapsed onto Nate's chest. He released his grip on Nate's wrists and then smiled as Nate looped his arms over Caesar's back. So warm and wonderful being held in those big, muscled arms, Caesar could just die happy that way.

It took him a second to realize Nate hadn't cum. Caesar hauled himself up onto his hands, Nate's hands sliding down his arms, and stared down at Nate. Those blue eyes were just desperate. Caesar knew how to take care of that. Slowly, deliberately, he licked down Nate's chest and across his abs. His own spunk tasted almost sweet and mixed deliciously with the salty sweat coating Nate's body.

When he got to Nate's crotch, he inhaled deep. Everything was so much more heady and intense. Wrapping one fist around Nate's prick, Caesar moved to suck on his balls and stroked. That thick, almost silky, hard cock tickled his palm. Skin sliding over an iron hard core felt so sensual.

Nate grabbed behind his own knees, pulling them up and back, giving Caesar access to everything. Still stroking, Caesar twisted his head and sought out Nate's ass with his tongue. On top of all of it, Nate had a tang like warm copper. "Goddamn, please, fuck, yeah," echoed above him, signaling Nate's own impending blow. The flavor between Nate's cheeks tasted sexy, concentrated and so much of a guy that Caesar thought he might get it up again. He jacked Nate's prick with a strong, fast grasp and fucked his hole with his tongue. Nate shuddered. He moaned. And then Caesar smelled the spunk pumping from Nate's cock.

Satisfied, he laughed and clambered back up to snuggle against Nate's warm, solid body. Forget doing anything else, this satisfied him. Then Caesar's stomach growled. Well neither of them had eaten anything yet… and where and when they were eating was already planned. He muttered, "Please tell me your mom can cook," into the space behind Nate's ear.

"Of course she can cook." Nate shifted. "We should get going if we're going to make it on time."

The jangle of a dog tag against a Saint Frances medal caught Caesar's attention. Poncho must have wandered back inside. He whistled to call the little mutt, then asked, "So why are we doing Thanksgiving today?"

Nate sat up. "Because, every cop in the world wants time and a half plus bonus." He rolled his buffed shoulders and stretched.

First Ponchito's ears and eyes appeared at the foot of the bed. Then he stuck his nose over. Poncho'd learned that if he just jumped into the middle of the bed, he was liable to get tossed right back off…and possibly locked out of the room.

"What?"

"You get extra pay if you work holidays." Nate slapped Caesar's thigh, calling the dog up. "My dad always worked Thanksgiving and Christmas. I always work 'em too. Since I was little, we always had Thanksgiving dinner on the Saturday after." Poncho jumped up and minced across to flop between his two men. Nate scratched his ears and added, "Christmas presents got opened whenever my dad got off shift on Christmas Eve. My mom would wake us up at like three a.m. And New Years was spent watching the ball drop on TV with the police scanner playing in the background. Dad's retired now, but since I work the holidays, my family just keeps the tradition." Then he asked. "What does your family do?"

Caesar grabbed Poncho's ears. As he scratched them, Caesar bent over and rubbed his nose against the mutt's forehead. "Thanksgiving or the rest of it?"

"All of it."

"Thanksgiving wasn't much of anything." Poncho woofed and darted off the bed at that point. Probably was going to go find his lunch. "I mean, you sorta learn that this is what everyone in America is doing on their day off. But, you know, it’s a day off to party and eat…although my cousins were usually washing dishes at some restaurant or something. Mexicans, we party late though. Come in, go out, come back, keep it going all day."

"Yeah?" Nate's smile was big and open. Caesar loved it when Nate smiled.

"Yeah." Caesar stifled a yawn. "And Christmas. You go to church like at midnight and when you come back everyone opens up presents. And Santa comes while you're at church. Then everybody who's not working Christmas day goes to bed. New Years, party all night long. Course I was usually working all around the holidays."

"Construction?"

"No, dip shit," he smacked Nate's chest and rolled to the edge of the bed, "people are on vacation. Left and gone to grandma's in Main or Arizona or something."

Nate swung his feet off the mattress and stood. "Oh, that." He yawned as he stretched again.

Caesar deadpanned. "Oh, yeah, that."

With another stretch…Caesar suspected Nate was flexing just to show off for him… Nate padded towards the bathroom. "So your mom's coming, right?"

"Yeah, my mom and my Bro's family." Caesar sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "Nate, your dad doesn't like me, what's he going to do with my family?"

"It'll be fine." Nate paused and smiled over his shoulder. "Mom's told him he has to play nice." He waved off the thought like it really didn't matter. "When did you come out to your mom, by the way? Cause last I heard, you hadn't." He paused and turned, "Isn't that going to be a little awkward?" before heading into the bathroom.

"Mom, her English sucks." Caesar shrugged. "Angel and his wife, they already don't say anything. We don't talk about it with mom. So, should be okay, she won't understand half of it."

Nate's voice drifted out of the can. "My dad speaks Spanish, you know."

"If it's as bad as yours…if he says something about us, she'll just assume it's the whole language thing."

The room got real quiet, enough for Caesar to wonder if Nate hadn't heard him. Then, "Dad's is way better than mine."

Fuck. Caesar flopped back onto the bed and moaned, "It's going to be a disaster." Northridge earthquake quality disaster. Malibu Canyon fire quality disaster.

Nate leaned out of the bathroom and grinned, "Isn't that what holidays are supposed to be?"

Good Boys Don't, But Mine Do…Usually

When I was reading romance by the boxful in the eighties, it seemed to me that the first sex scene always happened in chapter four. In fact, I remember a friend saying she was just going to write a book called Chapter Four, and it would only be the love scenes without all the other build up. I guess she wasn’t a fan of sexual tension.

Sexual tension can be amazing in a romance, when it springs from the core beliefs of the characters and not from constant artificial interruptions (doorbells, phone calls, bodies through the ceiling). If it becomes the be-all, end-all of the characters’ relationship, once they “do it,” it’s all downhill from there. But I’m not talking about Moonlighting, am I?

While I love reading sexual tension in a romance, as a rule, I don’t write it. As one of my friends is fond of pointing out—not the one with a passion for chapter four—“Women need a reason; men just need a place.”

An important bulletin from the Department of Duh: Sex is fun. With a little experience and a good partner, sex can be holy-crap-I-found-religion amazing. That’s all the reason my characters need to find each other hot and get off. The fun (for me as a writer) comes afterward, finding reasons for them to do it again, helping them to an awareness of their connection and giving them realistic reasons why they can't have their HEA right now.

That brings me to my WIP. I really didn’t plan it, but I’m finding that wonder of wonders, I’m creating sexual tension. But talk about your artificial interruptions! These boys just can’t seem to find a place and time to get off. There are illnesses, location issues, and supply issues. I’m not through chapter four yet, but I’m starting to worry about missing even that benchmark.

My characters are getting a little frustrated and so am I. I guess only time will tell if I’m creating believable, skin-tingling sexual tension leading to religious-experience consummation, or if I’m just leading them on.

New paperback collection by JM Snyder

NOW IN PRINT!

The Powers of Love Book 1: Origins
by J.M. Snyder

Three e-books in one collection: The Powers of Love, Matching Tats, and With This Ring.

Vic Braunson is a city bus driver who falls in love with Matt diLorenzo, a swimmer he meets at the gym. When they finally hook up, there’s no denying the energy between them. Something about Matt brings out the best in Vic ~ literally. Every time they have sex, Vic gains new superhuman powers from his lover. Can they learn to live with these abilities without losing each other?

Buy your copy at Amazon today!

Now Available - Why, Why, Zed?

I'm pleased to announce my first original work in nearly a year is now for sale through Phaze Books! Why, Why, Zed? is part of the Urban Phaze lines, stories set in big cities with big passions, and mine is Toronto. Books usually go up for sale late Saturday, but I finagled an early buy link just for Slash and Burn readers. Click here to order this sizzling M/M short for only $2.

And while you're here, how about an excerpt?

A cryptic phone call to Cameron "Zed" Zedmore's cell reveals a plot to steal away Zed's live-in love, Nick. Devestating the thought of infidelity is, Zed realizes he can't blame Nick for being tempted to stray, as Zed's work has kept him in the lab, and out of their bed, for long hours.

Nick loves Zed, but isn't crazy about being a "house husband" anymore. He has needs Zed won't meet, and when another friend offers help in that department, Nick is tempted to accept. But then Zed comes home early...

* * * *

Just in time.

Across the living room, through the feathery, fake plant strands in the vase on the back couch table, he could see two heads poking up from the patio loveseat. They bobbed and rolled in the unmistakable synchronous rhythm of an intimate act. Zed detected no other activity beyond that—he couldn't tell if Nick had a hand pressed to Danny's alleged bulge—or vice versa. Were that the case, it would end now.

A pang seized his heart, and he swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat. To see the actual infidelity, or at least the beginnings of it, bothered him more than expected. He didn't think he could stomach the scene had he arrived ten minutes later, assuming progression to something more hardcore would take that long. His first instinct to charge forward, like the lover scorned, faded quickly. His indifference toward the relationship caused this—Zed knew he had no right to be completely angry. He brought this on himself, and it was up to him to make amends.

He backtracked silently to the open front door then guided it forcefully to a foundation-shimmering slam. "Nick?" he called out in question, trying not to sound too eager, "You around?"

He knew, of course, where to look and what to find. Those resting heads, once joined at the lips, had now positioned themselves on opposite ends of the couch. Sotto voce, curses filled the closing gap between him and the patio along with the sound of a foot scraping the concrete—no doubt, a last minute attempt to hide any visual evidence of the pungent smoke filling Zed's nostrils.

At least, it seemed, it was good stuff.

A large, opened bag of tortilla chips rested on Danny's lap. Zed wanted to snicker, thinking of the surprise crinkling the bottom of the bag, inward. Nick crossed his legs tightly and blinked several times, but Zed could tell his lover was clearly riding the high that encouraged his earlier, and potential, behavior.

"Hey, you," Nick's voice cracked with worry. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

"I had a sudden change of heart," Zed said pleasantly. He chose to ignore the lip of the bong, peeking from the ruffled dust skirt of the ottoman, and moved around so he could face the two men. They resembled guilty teenagers with their heads bowed, caught red-handed, red-eyed, and purple-cocked. "Nice day to be sitting outside," he observed, gazing toward the spacious backyard.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be on the course all afternoon," Nick mumbled. "I called you at work when your cell was busy."

"I did too, but on the way there, I decided there are better things I could do with my time." He looked at Danny, narrowing his gaze. "Unfortunately… Danny, is it?" He should have taken more care to know the men Nick chose for friends.

Danny looked away in silent escape, as though affirming his identity might secure some kind of punishment. Finally, a short nod bowed his head.

"Danny, I had hoped to spend some quality time with Nick, alone. I don't mean to be rude."

"Not at all." Danny's response came swiftly, matching his sprightly leap from the love seat. Brushing off tortilla crumbs, he smiled at Nick and made a phone gesture to his ear with his left hand. "See ya."

Yeah, we'll be changing our phone numbers later tonight. Zed only smiled and waved. "Later," he said, a bit too placating. He waited for the front door to slam before turning his gaze on Nick, who cowered and hugged himself for protection. "Why are you sitting like that?"

"Are you going to hit me?" He sounded small and frightened. Had to be the weed enhancing his lover's paranoia, Zed decided. He had never raised a hand to anybody, especially Nick. The mere suggestion made Zed feel guiltier for his recent neglect.

He knelt before Nick and placed a hand on his bouncing knee. "Why would you even think such a thing?" he gently chided. "Have I ever done anything to suggest I could become violent with you?"

"No," Nick said, looking somewhat remorseful for having asked the question. Zed could sense, though, the next words forming on the man's lips. At least if you hit me, you'd be touching me. Wrapping himself in his own concerns at work really had put the burden of loneliness on Nick if negative attention was preferred over none at all.

Zed smoothed the palm of his hand down Nick's bare calf, then back up his thigh, to the cuff of his shorts. His touch left a visible trail of raised flesh and Zed watched the skin quiver. Farther back, the bulge tenting Nick's shorts increased. A few minutes later, that delicious cock might have been in another man's mouth.

Just in time. He'd come home to stop to Nick from making a mistake and to rectify his own.

"I love you, Nick, from the day we met. I'm sorry for shutting you out like I have these last few months."

Nick straightened a bit, his features softening.

Zed squeezed his eyes shut, mentally forcing back his next words. He wouldn't blame any of this on Nick. He wasn't going to ask Nick why he hadn't made his feelings known. Lost in his fog, he wouldn't have noticed any signals from his lover. Most assuredly, Nick had said or done something, but he just didn't acknowledge it.

He would enjoy making up for lost time and see that Nick did the same.

"Let me see that gorgeous body of yours," Zed whispered.

Nick looked unsure of himself at first, as though surprised to hear such a proposition. Zed bit back a laugh when Nick apparently recovered from his shyness and let his shirt slip over his head, flying to one side. The rhythmic rise and fall of Nick's bare chest—tanned and smooth—hypnotized Zed, and his mouth watered at the prospect of taking one of those taut, pebbled nipples between his lips.

"That's all?" he teased. Nick retaliated by easing slowly to his feet and undoing the button and fly of his cutoffs. Off came Nick's underwear then, and Zed was pleased to spy a patch of dark hair concealing Nick's reddening shaft.

"Turn around."

* * * *

Hope you'll pick it up today.

A Bevy of Releases

With a total of six new releases this month, May has been busy for me ... and this past weekend moreso than usual! Here's a look at what's out now, and a sneak peek at what will be published next weekend.

Working Man Book 9: Speed Trap
When Mark Peters is stopped for speeding, patrol officer Lt. W. V. Tench lets him off with just a warning. Now Mark can’t get the sexy cop out of his mind. When his friends jokingly suggest he drive around until he gets pulled over again, Mark thinks that’s a great idea.

Read an excerpt on my site, or buy your copy today!

Some Gave All
Stories by four very different authors in honor of those who made the ultimate sacrifice for God and country. My story, "For the Boys," is the only gay romance. Set during the Korean conflict, it's a story about a young Army warrant officer who falls in love with a USO performer.

Read an excerpt on my site, or buy your copy today!

Before the Show
A college student by day, drag queen by night, Devin Elliot loves his job. Chuck works as a bouncer at the club where Devin performs, and he has it bad for the hot drag queen. Nothing turns him on more than watching his boyfriend become Devine.

Read an excerpt on my site, or buy your copy today!

Forever After
Visit two very different worlds where love conquers all. Forever After is for readers of speculative fiction who enjoy stories in which love prevails, whether in a dystopic future or a distant fantasy land! Contains two e-book novellas, Persistence of Memory and The Regent's Knight.

Read an excerpt on my site, or buy your copy today!

The Positions of Love Book 6: Cowboy Position
Matt diLorenzo has a secret fetish ~ he loves to watch a man eat. Good thing his lover Vic Braunson has a voracious appetite. hen Vic finds out just how turned on Matt can get watching him eat, he suggests they share a quiet, indoor picnic. Something sinfully sexy, for just the two of them.

Read an excerpt on my site, or buy your copy today!

With This Ring
Matt's ex, Jordan, confesses all to a tabloid, telling the world Matt's secret ~ something in his semen gives his sexual partners super powers. After the article appears, Matt receives a call from a research scientist at a condom factory who claims to have a solution to his little "problem."

Read an excerpt on my site, or buy your copy today!

Dive In!

I know I may be booed for saying this, especially with spring just days away, but I hate the sun. I hate the heat. You might even say I hate the summer. So try not to get too confused when I say that every June through August I can usually be found high up in a lifeguard chair, my Ray-Bans scanning a glittering swimming pool. And yes, I do still hate sun, heat and summer. But, as I am fond of pointing out, how else but as a lifeguard could I get paid to sit at the pool all summer getting a tan? When it rains and is cold, as it so often is in the great Northeast, I lock myself in the pool office and write about things much hotter than a humid day.

I’m also a lifeguard instructor. Once during training, I had one of those what if moments that all writers love to have pop into their brains. I was watching a particularly fetching male lifeguard trainee performing CPR on the dummy, his broad wet chest rising and falling, and there it was. What if? What if the instructor watching had a previous relationship with the guy doing the thrusting—on the dummy? It would be pretty hard to stop thinking about other kinds of thrusting.

That little what if marinated in my head for a year or two until it became my new Samhain release Diving in Deep. Cameron, the instructor, is trying very hard to forget the night that he let wedding champagne and the flattering attention of Noah’s crush override the part of his brain that told him sleeping with his best friend’s little brother was a bad plan. Now Noah, all wet—and grown up a lot since then—is the one with the powerful chest rising and falling with the thrusts of those rippling arms. Suddenly, CPR is sexier than Cameron ever thought possible and he finds himself trapped between a rock and a hard…place. As for Noah, who wouldn’t want a do-over with the one that got away? The one you’ve been comparing all your other lovers to?

Noah and Cameron were a lot of fun to write about. The biggest problem they gave me was not getting out of bed long enough to work on their issues. Now Noah’s friend Joey wants his own book. (Actually he’s kind of demanding.) I’m getting there, honey. And have I got the man for you.

To read more about Noah and Cameron, you can find the PG-13 excerpt at the Samhain website or for something with a little more steam, come on over to my website.

J.M. Snyder's Shorts

It’s a backlist title of mine, but I wanted to pimp Shorts today for two reasons. One, it’s really the book that jump-started my career, in many ways. And two, it’s now available as a wireless download from Amazon’s Kindle Store.

In 2005, I was stuck two-thirds of the way through my then WIP, Stepping Up to the Plate. I refused to begin a new novel with one languishing unfinished (I thought if I started something new, I’d never get back to the first book), so I began to write short stories. Several of them appeared online at Ruthie’s Club, an online erotica zine.

By the summer of 2006, I realized it had been a while since I last published something. At this stage of the game, I was self-publishing two books a year, with the exception of the dry spell I suffered during 2005. I figured I better get my AIG and get another book out, but all I had on hand were short stories.

Well, so be it. I’d release a collection of short stories, then. I had 11 I had published through Ruthie’s, and quickly wrote another three to round out the book.

Around this time, an editor contacted me about possibly working with her newly formed publishing house, Aspen Mountain Press. I don’t remember if I was already working on Shorts at the time or not, but I was too sold on the idea of self-publishing the collection that I ended up submitting a different book to them.

But Shorts still helped me get my name out there. This was the first book I submitted to online review sites, which earned me a few new readers. And it also put me in touch with editor Richard Labonte, to whom I sent a review copy, and who promptly asked me to submit something for his Country Boys anthology. Since then, I’ve had stories appear in two of his anthologies, with another two stories coming out in anthologies to be released this year.

So in all, Shorts really provided a much-needed boost to my still budding career. The collection contains 14 erotic short stories, 11 of which were first published online at Ruthie’s Club. Two of them have been published in other anthologies (”Best Friends” in My First Time Volume 5 and, coming later this year, “Hooking Up” in Boys in Heat). One of the stories was re-released in e-book format as part of my ongoing Working Man series (”Easily Addicted”).

The stories run the gamut from contemporary to sci-fi, fetish to pulp … there’s something for everyone in Shorts.

Buy Shorts at Lulu (PDF or HTML) or at Amazon (Kindle).

The excerpt below is from one of my favorite stories in the collection. “Escape” was written for Ruthie’s Club’s science fiction issue. Trace is an intergalactic prisoner whose ship crash-lands on a planet inhabited by a type of clone or replicate called Delta-23. Davin, one of the replicates, has abandoned his fellow replicates to seek out the escaped prisoner alone because he’s never seen anyone who looked different from himself.

This is their meeting …

NOTE: contains sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

“Escape”

When heated lips covered his, Trace opened his eyes, panicked, before he realized he was being kissed, not suffocated or silenced. An insistent tongue licked the corner of his mouth, seeking entry. How long had it been since he’d been kissed so gently, so tenderly? Years. Before his stint in prison, at least.

The chin above him was hairless and strong and masculine, and Trace gave in to the sensation, closing his eyes again as he let the tongue in. It flicked over his teeth, the inside of his cheeks, his own tongue, before it licked away over his lips and chin. Small kisses soft along his jaw, wet lips closing over his earlobe, a man’s breath in his ear.

Trace brought one hand up from his crotch to feel the close-cropped hair of his visitor, and his fingers found the small tagged piercing high up in one ear that was the mark of a replicate. Opening his eyes again, he leaned back as the man kissed his neck, trying to see more. Slim body beneath a silver and blue jumpsuit, one hand by Trace’s head steadying him above with the other buried in a pocket, ending at an obscene bulge at the crotch. Not an Alpha-10 -- too thin. Into the ear close to his mouth, Trace breathed, “Psi-45? Are you …”

“Delta-23,” the other whispered between kisses. His lips left hot, damp trails along Trace’s collarbone. “The name’s Davin. You’re the first natural-born I’ve ever seen.”

With a laugh, Trace teased, “That explains the special treatment.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Davin sighed.

Trace laughed again because he knew that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t about to argue. Between his legs, his fingers massaged his balls. His hard dick was beginning to ache.

“I'm Trace,” he murmured -- might as well know each other before they went much farther.

Davin’s reply was to swirl his tongue around one of Trace’s nipples, which made Trace’s cock stand up on its own. Davin moved a little further, kissing down to Trace’s navel so the top of his head was just inches from Trace’s erection. With both hands, Trace found the zipper on the jumpsuit above him and tugged it back. Davin’s undershirt billowed down and Trace slipped his hands beneath it, feeling his way over smooth muscles. He’d been with a replicate before, but not a Delta. When his fingers found hard nipples and pinched them, the mouth on his stomach gasped with delight.

Davin moved lower, using both hands now to hold himself above Trace. He nuzzled the kinked hair at Trace’s crotch, then kissed up his hard length. Pulling down Davin’s zipper as far as it would go, Trace rubbed the sheathed package above him, underwear already damp enough to outline the tip of Davin’s dick. Trace raised himself up on his elbows to press his face against the sex-scented briefs, then nipped at the cock above him. Between Trace’s legs, Davin took him into his mouth. He tongued the swollen tip of Trace’s cock before licking down to the end of the shaft and up again. He went down a second time and Trace rose up to meet him, easing further in. One of Davin’s hands cupped Trace’s ass, the fingers fumbling between his cheeks enough to weaken Trace’s knees.

Hungry with lust, Trace reached up and pulled down Davin’s underwear, exposing a thick dick that unfurled before him and heavy balls that he tongued and kissed. Starting at the base of Davin’s cock, Trace kneaded the length with his lips. When he worked his way to the tip, he licked and toyed with the supple knob, trying to take it into his mouth without repositioning himself. He couldn’t quite get it -- he nudged it with his nose and caught it in his lips, but it was slick with his own saliva and slipped free to hang above him, tantalizing and dripping with pre-cum.

Trace licked at the salty drops as he thrust into the hot, willing mouth around his own erection. Davin’s rhythm increased, pulling Trace towards orgasm, one hand now squeezing the hard cock as he sucked the bulbous head. Trace’s release was mere strokes away. He raised up on his elbows again, took Davin’s soft balls into his mouth, rolled them around on his tongue as he came in short, quick bursts that jerked through him like lightning. Sated, Trace pushed the replicate to the ground, straddled him, and took the elusive cock into his mouth fully until Davin bucked beneath him in release.

Buy Shorts at Lulu (PDF or HTML) or at Amazon (Kindle).

The First Step

The hos (also known as my critique group) got together last night. After we discussed many ways to pull my work in progress out of the fire, I told them what scene I had planned next. They immediately staged an intervention. "Fish are friends, not food" Oops, sorry, wrong story.

My intervention went like this "You cannot write another sex scene! I don’t care if it’s erotica, no more sex in this book." What happened to making I statements? One fellow ho who does substance abuse counseling recommended that I take the first step in the program. "I admit I am powerless over my addiction to writing male/male sex scenes and my story has become unmanageable."

I love my fellow hos. I do. I wouldn’t be here without them. But I have to ask, what makes a reader pick up (or download) an erotica? I’m not saying I don’t love traditional romance, even the ones with the will-they-or-won’t-they sexual tension that has you screaming in frustration by the time they finally do it. After which you lose interest. (Moonlighting, anyone?) To me an erotica is a story where much of the emotional growth and conflict is expressed either in the sex scenes or results from the sex scenes. If I want a traditionally plotted romance—no matter what the sensuality level—I know where to find one. When I want sex to be an important component in the story, I want to know where to find that, too.

Which leads me to an even more important question: If you’re selling something that’s labeled male/male erotica, who’s buying it? Some of our readers come from traditional romance. Some come to us from slash fanfiction. What keeps them coming back for more? The easy answer is that you can’t please everyone, but how much sex is too much sex in an erotica?

I think I will take that first step, but slightly altered. "I admit I am powerless over the voices in my head that send me words and pictures that make up the story of two men who have such amazing chemistry that no matter what other issues they face, they can’t keep their hands off each other." Hmmm. I do feel better now.

And they say the first step is the hardest.