His Seduction. A college student gets seduced by his best friend.
~Yes, I'm sure you've all heard this countless times before from many other readers, but this is my first attempt at a . . . er . . . sextual story, much less a gay one. But I had fun writing it, and I hope you will enjoy reading it. I think deep down, we all want to be seduced, right?
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Keith sat at the scarred wooden table working on his term paper in the small house he now called home. How he hated his business class! The only reason he was taking it in the first place was that taking it was the only way his father had agreed to pay for his schooling! His father had told him in no uncertain terms that he would take the class and than take his rightful place in the family business or else he would be cut off from his inheritance. Not that the money meant much to Keith, but he’d learned a long time ago that his father was not a person to cross. So here he was, his second year in college, and still struggling with his homework from one blasted class.
(tale # 93) get full text ... His Seduction. A college student gets seduced by his best friend.
How to Stop Smoking Ch. 23. Jorge'
As I stepped out of the shower, the telephone was ringing. It was Jorge'. He wanted to know if I would like to play some golf. I said, "Sure, why not" and told him that I would meet him in an hour at the country club.
I stopped at the Health Food Restaurant to see Vera and was told that she had called. She was going to come in around noon. She had left a message for me that she would have to spend the day at the restaurant.
After finishing my breakfast, I left to meet Jorge'.
(tale # 94) get full text ... How to Stop Smoking Ch. 23. Jorge'
Hymens Ch. 05. He had never done this with a man before.
The four detectives got together in the ranch's dining area to compare notes. Lieutenant Johnson got the discussion going, "Okay, let's see what we've got here. I talked to one of the male victims, I guess we call them victims, no use arresting these folks, they didn't really have a lot of choice.
"Anyway, I talked to a Michael Andrews, who seemed very shaken by this ordeal."
"Who can blame him?" Margret asked.
(tale # 95) get full text ... Hymens Ch. 05. He had never done this with a man before.
Hidden Desires. Rich plays a dirty trick on Paul.
He pulls off his shirt and steps towards me. I inhale sharply, heating up as I stare into his bright mischievous eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. He leans over me, our faces close together, a slight smile playing on his lips, but then he draws back and I realise he was just putting his shirt on the bench behind me. I inwardly abuse myself for even thinking that it might happen. I mean, I...he'd never... His eyes leave mine and he turns away from me, back towards the cupboard underneath the sink, spanner in hand as he kneels down on the ground. Oh God...he's so... I watch him as he works, his fingers playing the tools as though he were making music with them. My eyes travel from his hands up his strong tanned arms, across his lithe slender back, taking in the way his muscles ripple at every small movement he makes. I walk around and pull myself up to sit on the kitchen bench beside where he is. What am I doing? He ducks out momentarily to look up at me with a quizzical expression on his face, so innocent, yet so sure of himself at the same time. His eyes catch mine and hold them there. I freeze. I can't move. I feel the sudden urge to just pull him up between my legs and kiss him, to feel his body against mine.
"Could you please pass me that?" he asks, pointing behind me. My hopes drop once again, and I hand him the strange looking metal contraption on the bench. He holds one end of the object and looks up at me. "Ah...could I...have it?" he asks, giving it a slight tug and grinning that killer smile up at me. Shit! I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out and I violently let go, almost throwing the thing at him in my panic to get it away from me. He laughs, shaking his head, before going back to work. He must really think I'm a dickhead now. He won't ever think about me the way I think about him. He'll never feel the uncontrollable desire, the aching need, the torture of being able to look but not touch. He doesn't know what he's doing to me, and it's slowly painfully killing me.
He lays down and rolls over onto his back. There are a few smudges of grease smeared on his chest, and a light film of sweat covers his body. Unconsciously I lean sideways, closer, my breathing deepening. Suddenly I'm feeling very light-headed. I imagine running my hand down his chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin beneath my fingers, imagine him shivering under my touch before pulling me to him and bringing his lips... Fuck! I jolt into reality as I feel his hand on mine. I look at him, his eyes intense and serious as he looks up into mine. His fingers move slightly on my hand and I look down, almost having a heart attack as I realise my hand is resting lightly on his chest. MY hand is on HIS chest! I wrench my eyes from his and try to pull my hand away, ready to run from the room, but he stops me, pressing my hand firmer against his skin. I can feel a rhythmic throbbing and for a moment I think it's me, but then I realise it's not just my heart thumping madly, it's his. What's going on?! I look at him again and suddenly he's standing up and I'm sitting upright once more, his hand firmly gripping mine. This can't be real. I'm dreaming - I know I am. I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of the fantasy, but nothing happens - he's still standing before me. He looks scared, apprehensive, and absolutely luscious.
(tale # 96) get full text ... Hidden Desires. Rich plays a dirty trick on Paul.
Hurricanes Bring More Than Rain. Visitor to the Big Easy gets wet.
The best thing about this story, is it's totally true.
I was visiting New Orleans for a weekend in 1998, when a hurricane blew into town. Between the driving rain and the drinks from the bars, I was hopelessly turned around and to be quite honest, I was drunk. The kind of drunk that makes you forget you're walking in the rain, or for that matter, care that you're walking in the rain.
I decided rather than try and wade back to my hotel I would find myself a bar stool and ride this storm out.
(tale # 97) get full text ... Hurricanes Bring More Than Rain. Visitor to the Big Easy gets wet.
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