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Posts Tagged ‘anal play’

I think most of my books have a tub scene or a shower scene—even when the guys have nothing more than an old washtub in a shack. Even in my “Dawn of Ireland” books, when tubs were unheard of, one MC was able to cobble together a passable tub out of an old barrel. Another man diverted part of a nearby river to form a kind of indoor wash-place. More on Gristle later…

2 men inatub copyYes, cleanliness is verrrrry important.

I put a douche scene in another book, The Chase. This one from The Kilt Complex is similar, except that Rory finds a way to use the device twice.

This small scene takes place before Rory Drummond and Alex Dominguez have to dress and leave to follow a clue in the case of the wandering wolfhound …

~oOo~

What Rory liked most about his olympic-sized bathroom was the tub—the eighth wonder of his world wrought in marble and brass. After Alex had found the collar, and they’d scanned the newspaper sites of every news outlet in Angus … after Iain had made an afternoon appointment with the vet … both of them had retreated wordlessly to the custom-made bathroom.

marble crop
The tub was centered on marble tile which sloped gently to a drain underneath. With no need for a curtain or door, they could shower en plein air, as it were, their wet glistening bodies plastered together while they lathered each other. Or just about any other activity they decided to indulge in, from mutual douching to dedicated sucking and fondling—and everything in between.

“I loved it last night.” He had his mouth and tongue in Alex’s shapely ear while his lover playfully tried to wrestle out of his muscular embrace.

“Oh, yeah? Show me how much.”

1 shower kiss
“Stand still, then, and spread your legs for me.”

“And if I refuse your cave-man tactics?”

“Then, lad—” he strong-armed Alex until he stood with his tight young ass pointing at his own primed cannon—“then you’ll just have to take the punishment, until I bloody say ‘when.’ Dammit, stand still.”

“Douche me first.”

colt copy
Alex stood with legs splayed, and Rory lifted the cock-shaped douche head from the cunning overhead fixture and soaped it first, and next the puckered mouth of the man’s anus. He knelt behind his lover. While one hand fondled his satin balls and cock, his other hand inserted a ballistic-plastic perforated dildo, inch by inch, into the long-memorized convolutions of his rectum, aiming for the sweetest spot of all.

He pushed and stroked, fondled and withdrew, almost at the point of orgasm just listening to Alejo’s words of encouragement, seeing the shivering movements of his ass, feeling the excited stiffness of his prick.

“Ah, Diós mio … Let it blow up my ass.”soapy bend over

“Say the word, Alejo.”

Uh, unh unh, now!”

He flicked the release on the douche head, letting a stiff stream of water shoot into the recesses of his lover’s butt, feeling the man’s entire body shake and the thick cum ooze between his fingers.

“In me, Rory, quick.”

He pulled the cock’s-head device from Alex and soaped it again, then stuffed it up his own anus. It took only a few seconds to pile his blood-gorged prick into his lover’s ready hole and push, letting the warm water shoot up his asshole while he fucked, his butt cheeks clamping the spurting device, his balls glutted to the point of explosion.

As he came, he gripped the muscled planes of the world’s sexiest ass and bellowed to the high ceiling. “Och! Och, love!”

Afterwards … after each of them had lathered and rinsed every inch of the other’s flushed body, after they’d toweled each other, kissed and fondled and murmured … they lay together for a while, a stolen few minutes before they had to rise and dress.

beardkiss

“Alejo. It just gets better. How is that possible?”

“Shush. There’s a secret there, corazón. A mystery, maybe we both hold the key to. Just let it be, and who knows? The answer might come.”

The Kilt Complex: High crimes and sexy misdemeanors.

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Here’s a book you won’t see for a while. Because three-fourths of it lies in my fevered brain. It’s the third of the “Nevada Highlander” series, starring a Scot and a cop. The title is HUNTER’S POINT.

better litehouse

The title refers to two objects: first, the little stone house where former state trooper Alex has moved after leaving Rory’s massive castle bedroom. Second, it’s the distinctive lighthouse called Scurdie Ness which lies at the end of Montrose Promontory on Scotland’s northeast shore. That’s where our guys have found clues to a probable murder.

I guess I’ll have to admit that this book is full of phallic symbols—none more potent than the dicks of its main characters. The one which, ah, emerges in this chapter is no different in shape, intent, or effect.

In this section, perpetually-aroused Rory has had to stop in the middle of a promising interlude with his lover. For the last few hours, his balls have been aching; and Alex, fully aware of his pain, has prolonged it maybe a little too much for Rory to tolerate gracefully…

~oOo~

He really tried to escape those redwood stumps Rory called arms, and he turned his face from the close beard browsing his neck and chin, then the teeth biting his lower lip, drawing blood. A distant part of his brain told him this encounter should be taking place downstairs, in the training room. Except there, neither of them could ever be sure when someone might come in. Like Kenneth Drummond, for instance. But now, today, they were alone, in a very private place. And this man’s father was somewhere in the Cairngorms.

“Let me go, goddammit, Rory.”

“When wolfhounds foogin fly. Stand still. Or pay the price.”

Rory began to suck his tongue while trying his best to unbutton Alex’s denims.

The man’s fumbling fingers and expert tongue combined to stuff his cock with a gallon of hot, ready blood.

“You’ll ruin another pair of jeans. Son of a bitch, Rory, stop.”

“Then stand still, you cock sucker.”

“Asshole licker.”

The deliberately abusive language fired both of them. Alex allowed the clumsy fingers to open his fly, then to take his pants down over his ready ass. As big as he was—hardly an inch shorter than Rory, and maybe twenty pounds lighter—the Scot picked him up as though he was a rodeo rider’s saddle and flung him over one shoulder, bearing him to the bed.

Too late, he saw the coil of rope on the surface of the crisp linens. He wondered how long it had been lying right there, waiting for Alex to fall into the open maw of Rory’s enormous sexual appetite.

Alex was strong, and his martial skills were many. He’d honed his techniques most of his life, knowing a gay man had to protect himself. But Rory was stronger, and his own talents matched, hold for hold, feint for feint. They wrestled for at least five minutes, each pinning his opponent for a few seconds before one or the other of them slipped the hold.

beard kiss 2All the while they slid in and out of each other’s arms, their mouths and tongues were never far apart. Alex strained to suck and bite Rory’s wide mouth, lick the hidden cleft in his chin. With every pump of his needing mouth, his prick seemed to stand straighter from its nest of wiry dark hair.

At last he found himself belly down on the bed and Rory was clamping his wrists together at his tailbone while he flailed and swore at the tightening rope.

“Fuck you, Drummond. I swear, I’ll have your ass …”

“Aye, lad. I want you to have my ass. But I’ll have yours first.”

The next touch was alien. Hard, cold, smothered in gel, it stroked his taint and then circled his rim, slow. Rory’s downy mustache found his ear.

squildo rainbow

“I need to watch it, Alejo. See your ass swallow it and let it go. So let it happen. All right?”

“What the fuck is it?”

“You’ll find out. Take it, welcome it, tell me how much you love it.”

Sometime during that mumbled dialogue, Rory had slid a cock ring above his balls, choking off his need to spit cum into the goddamn sheets. How could the man be so three-thumbed with buttons, and so damned talented with sex toys and cock strokes?

The strange object began to sing, and Alex recognized it as a vibrator. By the time it was halfway up his asshole, he knew it wasn’t just a vibrator. It was a fucking anaconda, and Rory knew how to to take that slithering boa almost to the end of his waiting tunnel.

His head deep in the pillow, he began to moan, his words spilling in gobs of spit and lust. “Oh, oh, shit. Ah, god, I can’t stand it. Stop, oh, do it, do it.”

~oOo~

If you like Rory and Alex, maybe you’ll enjoy the first two novels.

dbl covers nh&hp-pizap.com14200568794101 copy

Nevada Highlander: Who’s on Whose Tail?

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Kindle UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00H7KHHJI
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n ARe and OmniLit Bestseller
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The Kilt Complex: High Crimes and Sexy Misdemeanors
http://amzn.to/1toZgAS
Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/1EQn6Qq
omnilit http://bit.ly/1tvfx7E
An ARe and OmniLit Bestseller
Print: http://amzn.to/17Xs27N

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Oh, ouch! I have just realized that this “home” section of my blog should have fresh blogs every week or at least every month. I am quite far behind on it, so I’ll catch you up to speed on my writing since Noble, Nevada. If you go to the page headings at the top, though, you will see updates on my MM writing.

The Chase debuted end of January. It’s another in the “Noble Dimensions” series, this time starring two different guys.

THE CHASE . . .

chase:cover 396x612

If  you like ranchers and small-town guys . . . if you like rugged landscapes and plain-spoken people . . . if you like your erotica on the phallic and anal side of extra-hot . . . I think you’re gonna like The Chase.

Two unlikely men are drawn to each other, even over the space of years:

Brew is openly and outspokenly gay. He’s been pursuing a half-assed college career in Los Angeles, letting his father pay the rent and tuition as “blood money” for detesting his gay lifestyle. Brew left the two-bit town of Noble, Nevada four years back. But he’s never forgotten his old high school hero, the god-in-a-muscle-tee named Chase.

Chase is shy, a man who used to be a high-school football player but who spends most of his time alone with his dad on a 2000-acre ranch. Since high school, Chase has hidden his fantasies of a good-looking, dark haired guy named Brew. He’s let the years dull his dreams, but he’s never forgotten a pair of deep flashing eyes and a sardonic lift of the mouth.

An outspoken gay and a quiet rancher are each pursuing a fantasy. Where will the chase lead them?

Brew Lloyd finds himself back in Noble, taking care of his parents’ home while they’re at the bedside of his dying uncle. His father has arranged for him to find part-time work during the day at a ranch outside of Noble called The Chase. Brew doesn’t fit the name with his old crush, until he goes to the ranch and sees the man from his long-ago fantasies, Chase Grayson.

For his part, Chase must suddenly confront a man whom he thought he’d forgotten, left under the blankets of his bed as he burrowed his needing flesh into a lonely cavern. But Brew is right there in his father’s living room, and his dad asks him to show this young man the ranch. And so Chase sets out to show this newbie how to sink a cedar fence post….

barbed 440

He turned away and walked to where he’d left the cedar post, fighting a stubborn hard-on. By the time Brew joined him, his new helpmate had removed his shirt completely. His pale chest showed both lack of muscle and his aversion to sunlight. Maybe aversion to manual labor also. Too bad. That’s about to change.

Chase picked up the post and leaned it strategically over the swelling in his jeans.

“Okay, Brew, here’s what you’re gonna do. As soon as we set the post in the hole, you hold it tight and straight. Yes?”

“Tight. Okay. Straight. I’ll try.”

cedar post:barbed wire 220

Chase knew he could easily lift the post, but he waited until Brew was next to him. “On three, we put it in the hole.”

He watched in appreciation as Brew’s muscles seemed to strain and his breath came out a little harsh as they lifted. “Now hold it, while I fill the hole. Then we’ll make sure the wire’s taut on both sides. Good and straight, and tight. Got it?”

“Yeah. I got it straight and tight, Chase. Quit teasing me and do it.”

Then Chase couldn’t help it. He smiled and looked into Brew’s eyes. They were standing close, almost touching.

“Okay.”

Still he didn’t move away, and Brew didn’t drop his eyes. Chase waited until he thought his prick would betray him if he stayed this close. He bent to pick up the shovel and began to fill the hole. He took his time, moving around the other man, quickly adjusting the crotch of his denims while watching the smooth back of Brew’s neck. He saw the muscles on the nape jump a little, and he almost tasted the thin film of sweat at the dark, lustrous hairline, trickling slowly down his shoulders.

~oOo~

After the post is up, Chase is still vicariously enjoying the closeness of his new help-mate.

He stood back a foot from Brew and lavished one last look at the vision of a slender, handsome man holding the erect fencepost as though he was part of it. “That’s enough. That’s good, Brew. You passed.”

As soon as he said it, Chase was pissed at himself. This guy Brew was way too smart—and smart-assed—to let a statement like that go by without challenge.

He walked a few feet away. Brew moved next to him.

“Passed. Passed what, Chase?”

He looked again into the other man’s eyes. “Never mind. That’s enough for the day.” He knew they needed to straighten a bunch of other posts, too, but something stopped him from mentioning it.

hat-lasso cut 230

“No. You were testing me. What grade did you give me?”

He shook his head and lied. “No grade.”

But Brew would not let go of his eyes. “Then let’s repair another post. Let’s brand a calf. Let’s…let’s do what ranchers do. And you test me on it.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

“I’m not pissed. I’m fucking turned on. Can’t you tell?”

His voice was low. Perfectly cadenced and…yes, sexy as hell. Brew moved to within six inches of him, and Chase began to sweat. How had he let this happen? He had never felt so aroused and he couldn’t understand it in the least. He was suddenly a little scared.

“Time to go.” He turned and walked to the security of his dusty midnight blue truck. When he got in and looked to the fence line, Brew was still standing there. Just standing, looking at him.

~oOo~

blk hat crop 200

Yeah, both men are turned on by each other. But Chase is unwilling—or unable—to admit the truth. And now he’ll have to spend the summer working next to a man who brings sweat to his palms and an unyielding timber to the crotch of his pants. Hell, how is he supposed to cope with a fantasy, when that dream is standing in front of him with a visible hard-on?chase  200 flip

The next time I post an excerpt, I’ll show you what happens a little later that day, after they get back to the ranch house and Chase’s dad leaves for town.

The Chase is available widely. The Zon link is http://amzn.to/VXyEq2
June 13, 2013
I promised an excerpt from the book, after Roy Grayson leaves for town with the two horny young guys watching him roll down the driveway. What in the world could happen, now that they have some time alone?
~^~

They left the dining room and went to the hall. Mr. Grayson pulled a grey Stetson off a battered hat rack, settled it over his straw-colored mat of hair, and left. Brew stood by the door, uncertain what to do next, watching Chase’s dad take off in a black Suburban.

“Wait a sec, Brew. Be right back.”

Chase left the hallway and disappeared through a side door. When he returned, he was carrying a tattered excuse for a cowboy hat, a singlet and some kind of denims rolled into a ball.

“These were mine, um, a few years back. They might fit you.”

“Thanks, dude. I’ll join you in the truck in a couple minutes. Okay?”

“Yes.” Chase stood in the hall, hands at his sides, quietly watching him.

Brew could feel a flush start in his neck and run up into his cheeks. “Where can I change?”

Chase gestured to the door he had just emerged from. “You can use my room.”

Now or never. “Come with me.”

“Okay.”

The room was spacious, pine wood-paneled, hung with Navajo blankets and adorned with arrowhead display shadow boxes. A large desk, some kind of dark wood, held a Mac desktop computer and a stack of books. Brew noticed that the bed was over-sized, too. Big enough to fit a king, and his whole goddamn entourage besides.

Brew began to unbuckle his turquoise-studded belt. “Okay if I just drop my drawers?” He smiled into Chase’s eyes. They’d lost the paleness they had a while ago. A trick of the light. Now they seemed green as the mossy bottom of a wooded pond. Quiet, still, waiting.

“Yes.”

Looking into Chase’s eyes, unbuttoning his jeans, knowing the huge bed was just behind him—all of it hit him at once, and his prick jammed into second gear, then third, heading for home. He had a hard time pushing the jeans down over his briefs, tangling them up on his crotch, watching Chase watch him.

Finally, Brew just let his jeans fall. Chase stepped a foot closer to him. He had to lift his head a little, and Chase lowered his own. They were so close now that he felt the man’s hot breath in his mouth, the soft cobwebs of his whiskers brushing his chin…

“Shit, Chase, I’ve wanted you since I was old enough to crave a man.” He began to lick Chase’s lower lip, then bite a little. Chase parted his lips, and Brew slipped his tongue inside.

Brew held Chase’s stubbly cheeks in both hands, slowly discovering his mouth, while the other man let him explore. His hands were still at his sides, as though he didn’t know where to put them. Their bodies by now were so close their groins rubbed and ground together, performing their own counter rhythm. “Kiss me,” he said against the tall man’s hot tongue. “Oh, fuck, Chase, kiss me. I want you.”leviskisswow 220

He began to suck on Chase’s tongue, softly, in rhythm with the hard pulse in his throat, and he put his hands up under the wife-beater. His fingers found the man’s erect nipples. He pulled on them a little as his tongue searched the inside of his mouth. Then Chase was in his own mouth, a sudden jab of molten heat, and his tongue seemed to reach the back of his throat. Now Chase’s hands were on his back, massaging, stroking, descending to his hips. His large hands seized his buttocks, then spread them, until Brew felt he was on the edge of a desperate climax.

The bed was behind him, close. Brew sat, bringing his mouth down Chase’s chest as he did, moving his hands around to grasp his butt cheeks. “Just stand there. Let me suck you.”

Chase fumbled with the top button of his raggedy denims, and Brew helped him. He pulled the zipper all the way down. “Let me. Let me.”

The cock that reared from his pants was almost frightening. Brew had never seen one so big, so marbled with veins. He took the time to edge Chase’s pants down over his hips, inch by inch, stroking the man’s flat-muscled ass cheeks. He held off putting the cock in his mouth. Let it be my reward, my all-day sucker. Oh God in heaven, I want this man.

He heard Chase’s tortured breathing and looked up into his face.

“Do it, Brew. I need you. Now.”

Brew started with his index finger in Chase’s asshole. He slid it in easily, wiggling and moving it as he entered and kept going. The other man jumped a little, not expecting the intrusion. “Hey.”

“Shhh, shush. Let me take you, big guy. Just relax.” He slid in the next finger. Chase had begun to let out small, inarticulate sounds, and he moved his legs apart farther as Brew searched his anus. Pushing in and then retreating, very slowly, Brew began to coordinate his fingers with his tongue. He started at the balls, pulling them almost entirely into his mouth before letting them spill out in gobs of spit.

That’s all for today, folks. Tune in to ths blog for more excerpts from Erin’s novels, historical and contemporary. Let me know what you think of the books.

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