Sean Michael's Blog, page 46
August 2, 2012
two books out yesterday
Masks Off! is out and I have an excerpt up on
torquere_social
.
You can pick it up here.
Also out is Puppy Love!
Who can resist a free room at the Velvet Glove in exchange for rehabilitating an abused puppy? Certainly not Dane, who accepts the offer, but is surprised find that the pup in question is actually Tyg, a young man and sub who was left by his master, in a cage, with no food or water. Tyg needs help and, Dane is the man for the job, even if he's used to working with animals, not humans. Can Dane rehabilitate a human as he would a dog? Does he even want to? As his relationship with Tyg blossoms into something sweet and heartwarming, Dane thinks he just might, but what happens when Tyg's "owner" returns?
Originally published on Turn of the Screw and in the print book Velvet Glove, IV.
That one is here.
torquere_social
.You can pick it up here.
Also out is Puppy Love!
Who can resist a free room at the Velvet Glove in exchange for rehabilitating an abused puppy? Certainly not Dane, who accepts the offer, but is surprised find that the pup in question is actually Tyg, a young man and sub who was left by his master, in a cage, with no food or water. Tyg needs help and, Dane is the man for the job, even if he's used to working with animals, not humans. Can Dane rehabilitate a human as he would a dog? Does he even want to? As his relationship with Tyg blossoms into something sweet and heartwarming, Dane thinks he just might, but what happens when Tyg's "owner" returns?
Originally published on Turn of the Screw and in the print book Velvet Glove, IV.
That one is here.
July 31, 2012
Two on Tuesday
I have two stories coming out tomorrow!
Another Velvet Glove story from the print books is coming out. Puppy Love was so much fun to write and I have a huge -- huge -- soft spot for Tyg and Dane. The other is a story in the Masks Off! anthology about shifters and masks.
Puppy Love, a Velvet Glove story
Who can resist a free room at the Velvet Glove in exchange for rehabilitating an abused puppy? Certainly not Dane, who accepts the offer, but is surprised find that the pup in question is actually Tyg, a young man and sub who was left by his master, in a cage, with no food or water. Tyg needs help and, Dane is the man for the job, even if he's used to working with animals, not humans. Can Dane rehabilitate a human as he would a dog? Does he even want to? As his relationship with Tyg blossoms into something sweet and heartwarming, Dane thinks he just might, but what happens when Tyg's "owner" returns?
Originally published on Turn of the Screw and in the print book Velvet Glove, IV.
Chapter One - Dane Learns That Some Puppies are Human
Dane signed in at the front desk of the Velvet Glove, leaving an imprint of his palm. He was assured his suite would be ready for him and his new puppy.
Then he was asked to take a seat and wait for his escort. That would be Richard, the young man he had been in touch with on the universal 'net. The young man who'd told him about the dog, abandoned by his owner, left for they knew not how long in a cage. Unattended. Unfed. Unwatered. Left to die what was truly a horrible death.
It angered Dane greatly that people would do this, but it was not the first time he had seen it.
Of course for every person who could be so cruel there was one like Richard, who's heart was bigger than his ability, who'd searched out someone to help this puppy, when he himself had been unable to.
Dane watched as two men, one young and small, the other big, scarred and wearing special glasses came toward him, holding hands.
They stopped in front of him.
"Hello, Dane?" The big man held out one scarred hand. "I'm Jean, this is Richard."
He stood and shook Jean's hand and then Richard's. "Hello. Yes. I'm Dane. Thank you. Thank you for calling me in. And for the rooms. That really wasn't necessary, but thank you. I assure you, I will help this dog. Tyg, wasn't it?"
The big man looked down at the little one, who nodded eagerly. "Tyg's been... badly treated. He's going to be sent away if someone doesn't help him."
"Yes, Richard sent me an account of how he'd been left by his previous owner. Shameful, really."
The little one -- Richard -- took his hand and tugged, leading him toward the lift.
"Yes, everyone assumed the man had taken Tyg with him. The police are looking for him, in fact. Tyg was left behind to die."
His heart broke for the poor dog. "When they find him, he should be left in a cage with no food or water as well. It's no more than he deserves."
The lift traveled quickly upward.
"Yeah. Andy and Bear have been taking care of Tyg, but he's aggressive, angry, unsocial." The lift door opened and he was led down a long hall, to a door marked kennel.
He nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. He'll have branded all men as users and abusers. Only time and patience and being well-treated will convince him otherwise."
The door opened, a lean man in leather answering, a naked young man at his feet... barking... "Richard! Jean! Is this the man interested in Tyg?"
He blinked. "Yes. I'm Dane. I sent my credentials with the animal rescue shelter to Richard a few days ago -- he said he'd pass them on..." Dane was fascinated by the ... well, dog-boy at the man's feet. He had a... a tail coming from his ass.
"Excellent. Come on in, I'll introduce you to Tyg." He was led into a long, sunny room, one bright kennel after another with a...
He blinked.
Men.
Men with tails and mitted hands and one or two with dog masks on.
Men that were barking.
Annual Full Moon Werewolf Ball in Masks Off!
My story in this anothology about masked shifters tells the tale of Gramm, who was bitten during a one-night stand a year ago and ever since then has turned more than a little bit hairy on a regular basis. What happens when he runs into the man who bit him a year later and demands answers?
Annual Full Moon Werewolf Ball.
Grammercy snorted at the sign. It was a bunch of people pretending to be fantasy creatures. Some wore full body costumes, others just masks and tails. At midnight, according to the sign, they went out and had a "howling."
It was a romanticized, unrealistic, silly ball. These masked werewolves had no idea what it was like to be a werewolf.
Gramm was different.
The face he wore under the wolf mask was not so different from said mask. It'd been that way for just over a year. One bite from some random hook-up had changed his life forever. That first full moon... Shit, there had been nothing romantic about the first time he'd changed.
He had it under control now, more or less. He knew when it was coming, knew where to go not to get into trouble when it overtook him. Still, it kept him away from people, especially at night. Here he could let his wolf hang out and nobody would look twice. Maybe he could even hook up.
He paid his cover charge and stalked into the place, the driving beat hitting him immediately and calling to the feral beast inside him. He pushed into the crowd, men, women, all dressed up as wolves gyrating against him.
Gyrating.
Christ on a crutch. He might be desperate but he wasn't this desperate. Why had he come again?
The music got faster, and he could smell need, arousal, heat. It was going to make him fucking crazy and he couldn't decide if he wanted to just revel in it or get out.
That was when he smelled it.
Another male. Another familiar male. That little fuck who had bitten his thigh a year ago. Gramm was going to kill the bastard.
Another Velvet Glove story from the print books is coming out. Puppy Love was so much fun to write and I have a huge -- huge -- soft spot for Tyg and Dane. The other is a story in the Masks Off! anthology about shifters and masks.
Puppy Love, a Velvet Glove story
Who can resist a free room at the Velvet Glove in exchange for rehabilitating an abused puppy? Certainly not Dane, who accepts the offer, but is surprised find that the pup in question is actually Tyg, a young man and sub who was left by his master, in a cage, with no food or water. Tyg needs help and, Dane is the man for the job, even if he's used to working with animals, not humans. Can Dane rehabilitate a human as he would a dog? Does he even want to? As his relationship with Tyg blossoms into something sweet and heartwarming, Dane thinks he just might, but what happens when Tyg's "owner" returns?
Originally published on Turn of the Screw and in the print book Velvet Glove, IV.
Chapter One - Dane Learns That Some Puppies are Human
Dane signed in at the front desk of the Velvet Glove, leaving an imprint of his palm. He was assured his suite would be ready for him and his new puppy.
Then he was asked to take a seat and wait for his escort. That would be Richard, the young man he had been in touch with on the universal 'net. The young man who'd told him about the dog, abandoned by his owner, left for they knew not how long in a cage. Unattended. Unfed. Unwatered. Left to die what was truly a horrible death.
It angered Dane greatly that people would do this, but it was not the first time he had seen it.
Of course for every person who could be so cruel there was one like Richard, who's heart was bigger than his ability, who'd searched out someone to help this puppy, when he himself had been unable to.
Dane watched as two men, one young and small, the other big, scarred and wearing special glasses came toward him, holding hands.
They stopped in front of him.
"Hello, Dane?" The big man held out one scarred hand. "I'm Jean, this is Richard."
He stood and shook Jean's hand and then Richard's. "Hello. Yes. I'm Dane. Thank you. Thank you for calling me in. And for the rooms. That really wasn't necessary, but thank you. I assure you, I will help this dog. Tyg, wasn't it?"
The big man looked down at the little one, who nodded eagerly. "Tyg's been... badly treated. He's going to be sent away if someone doesn't help him."
"Yes, Richard sent me an account of how he'd been left by his previous owner. Shameful, really."
The little one -- Richard -- took his hand and tugged, leading him toward the lift.
"Yes, everyone assumed the man had taken Tyg with him. The police are looking for him, in fact. Tyg was left behind to die."
His heart broke for the poor dog. "When they find him, he should be left in a cage with no food or water as well. It's no more than he deserves."
The lift traveled quickly upward.
"Yeah. Andy and Bear have been taking care of Tyg, but he's aggressive, angry, unsocial." The lift door opened and he was led down a long hall, to a door marked kennel.
He nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. He'll have branded all men as users and abusers. Only time and patience and being well-treated will convince him otherwise."
The door opened, a lean man in leather answering, a naked young man at his feet... barking... "Richard! Jean! Is this the man interested in Tyg?"
He blinked. "Yes. I'm Dane. I sent my credentials with the animal rescue shelter to Richard a few days ago -- he said he'd pass them on..." Dane was fascinated by the ... well, dog-boy at the man's feet. He had a... a tail coming from his ass.
"Excellent. Come on in, I'll introduce you to Tyg." He was led into a long, sunny room, one bright kennel after another with a...
He blinked.
Men.
Men with tails and mitted hands and one or two with dog masks on.
Men that were barking.
Annual Full Moon Werewolf Ball in Masks Off!
My story in this anothology about masked shifters tells the tale of Gramm, who was bitten during a one-night stand a year ago and ever since then has turned more than a little bit hairy on a regular basis. What happens when he runs into the man who bit him a year later and demands answers?
Annual Full Moon Werewolf Ball.
Grammercy snorted at the sign. It was a bunch of people pretending to be fantasy creatures. Some wore full body costumes, others just masks and tails. At midnight, according to the sign, they went out and had a "howling."
It was a romanticized, unrealistic, silly ball. These masked werewolves had no idea what it was like to be a werewolf.
Gramm was different.
The face he wore under the wolf mask was not so different from said mask. It'd been that way for just over a year. One bite from some random hook-up had changed his life forever. That first full moon... Shit, there had been nothing romantic about the first time he'd changed.
He had it under control now, more or less. He knew when it was coming, knew where to go not to get into trouble when it overtook him. Still, it kept him away from people, especially at night. Here he could let his wolf hang out and nobody would look twice. Maybe he could even hook up.
He paid his cover charge and stalked into the place, the driving beat hitting him immediately and calling to the feral beast inside him. He pushed into the crowd, men, women, all dressed up as wolves gyrating against him.
Gyrating.
Christ on a crutch. He might be desperate but he wasn't this desperate. Why had he come again?
The music got faster, and he could smell need, arousal, heat. It was going to make him fucking crazy and he couldn't decide if he wanted to just revel in it or get out.
That was when he smelled it.
Another male. Another familiar male. That little fuck who had bitten his thigh a year ago. Gramm was going to kill the bastard.
July 30, 2012
My God It's Monday
I'm really enjoying the Olympics. I have a few observations.
I like the suits the swimmers are wearing this year much more than the full body suits from Bejing.
I like the teeny suits the divers wear even more.
I believe the men's beach volleyball teams are really, very much overdressed.
Middle Game is out! This is the second in the Chess series, the first book being Opening Moves. There will be more in the series.
Okay, back to the Olympics, which frankly, has been taking up all of my time since opening ceremonies :)
I like the suits the swimmers are wearing this year much more than the full body suits from Bejing.
I like the teeny suits the divers wear even more.
I believe the men's beach volleyball teams are really, very much overdressed.
Middle Game is out! This is the second in the Chess series, the first book being Opening Moves. There will be more in the series.
Okay, back to the Olympics, which frankly, has been taking up all of my time since opening ceremonies :)
Chess: Middle Game now out!
Can Jason be with three amazing men and not lose his heart in the process?
Living with and being the play toy of three men is more rewarding than Jason could have imagined. Bishop, Knight and Rook each have their own way of loving on him. In Bishop he finds a work-out partner, friendship, and good solid lovemaking. He isn’t sure what to make of Knight, but the man is a brilliant artist and there are worse things than being Knight’s subject for his latest series of paintings. And the kinky things Knight does to him blow his mind on a regular basis.
It’s Rook who Jason is falling in love with, though. The bright, loving, sexy man has him head over heels and Jason’s beginning to worry that he’s getting himself in way over his head. Can he continue to be with these men without losing his heart?
It's available here (and there's an excerpt on the page at the bottom).
The first book in the series is Opening Moves and it can be found here.
July 27, 2012
Fiction Friday
Club Fantasy, Chapter 24
Tank put in the call to room service, his stomach growling loudly, letting him, and the twins, know that he really was hungry for food. He hung up the phone and took the menu back to the little desk, putting it away.
"They said fifteen minutes." He told Rick and Mickey with a smile.
Fuck, they were pretty. And sexy. And hot as hell. Rick had his arms around Mickey, face pressed against one shoulder, mouth working. Mickey's legs were moving restlessly, the man's eyes heavy-lidded.
Tank’s prick tried to fill again at the sight of them all over each-other, but he'd need food first. Then he should be good for another round or two. Maybe three.
He opened his arms for them. "You two wanna come sit?" Not that he wasn't enjoying the show.
They moved like one person, slinking over to slide around him like a pair of kittens. His cock jerked again, going semi-hard in another valiant attempt to rise and salute them. He wrapped an arm around each and held them close. Mickey's skin was warmer than Rick's, just a bit, and Rick's body was harder, a touch more muscular.
"So what do the two of you do, aside from make my fantasies come true?"
"Comics." Mickey grinned, winked. "I write."
"I draw." Rick licked his ear.
They were making it very hard to carry on a conversation. "Seriously? That's pretty cool."
"Uh-huh. We have a couple. It's a good life." Mickey snuggled closer, rubbing against him.
"It sounds like fun. And you can work together. That must be... distracting." His cock was getting harder by the second, proving him wrong about his own stamina.
"We've always been together."
Rick nodded, tugged his earlobe. "Always."
He turned toward Rick and nipped at his lips in retaliation for the tug. "Never been alone. I can't imagine."
"We'd hate it. We like each other." Mickey squealed when Rick goosed him. "A lot."
Tank laughed. "You ever get mad at each other? Fight?" He couldn't believe two guys could be together always and never argue.
"All the time." Rick grinned.
Mickey started leading him back to the bed. "I always win."
"Is that right?" He asked the question of Rick, not Mickey, as he followed. He'd go wherever they wanted.
"I always let him win, absolutely."
Tank laughed. All the harder when Mickey stuck his tongue out at Rick. Rick leaned forward, catching Mickey up, taking a hard-edged kiss. Groaning, Tank watched, utterly captivated by them. His hands slid down, each one grabbing a handful off ass.
God, they were like a wet dream. A slinky, sexy wet dream.
"We've got food showing up any minute now." His voice was thick, his cock hard again. He didn't care so much about the food now as being interrupted.
"Burgers, right? I'm starving." Mickey bit his bottom lip, teeth tugging on it.
"Uh-huh. Big meat." He winked, eyes caught on that sweet, abused lip.
"Yum." Rick bit his collarbone, his neck.
He groaned, tilting his head to offer Rick's hungry mouth more.
"You smell good, man."
"I'm guessing I'm starting to smell like the two of you." Or maybe a bathhouse, but he meant it in the best way and figured it might sound rude to actually say that part out loud.
"Mmm. A man that smells like need." Mickey's hands were maddening. "I approve."
Groaning, he decided that he wasn't going to insist they be circumspect until the food came. This was too good not to indulge and enjoy and immerse himself in. "I approve of the two of you."
"Mmm. And I approve of the three of us." Rick's fingers found his nipple, pinched it. Hard.
"Fuck!" His hips jerked.
"I think that's a great plan." Mickey grinned.
"Mmmhmm. After burgers."
"Uh-huh. You guys are making it hard, though."
"That, my dear man, is our job." Oh, he loved it when they spoke together.
He laughed, but the sound was husky, needy. Which of course was when the knock came at the door. "Room service."
Groaning, he grabbed his jeans and tugged them on to go get the door. He took the carty, blushing when the server looked past him and moaned. "On the house, sir. No charge."
"Really? Thank you." He took a five out of his wallet and tipped the man.
"Thanks and... congratulations. Wow."
He turned his head to see Rick and Mickey wrapped in a passionate embrace, Rick's hands in Mickey's hair. If he blushed any harder, he was going to burst into flames. Still -- they were with him, weren't they?
"Yeah. Wow. Thanks." Grinning, he closed the door and turned to enjoy the show.
"Mmm. I smell food." Rick licked at Mickey's lips.
"Yeah, burgers for all. On the house. I'm not sure if that's because of the fantasy winner thing or because the waiter caught an eyeful of you two."
"Either way, what fun." Mickey bent backward, grinned at him.
Man, just look at that. "You guys are going to have to behave if we're going to eat."
"If we eat, then we can spend time playing after."
"That's right. The rest of the night." The morning. Into the afternoon if he was really lucky. Maybe they'd give him their phone number.
"Sounds perfect." Rick pulled Mickey up. "Let's eat."
He pulled the service cart over to the bed and sat on the edge. Opening the silver domes revealed three succulent looking burgers, complete with big, meaty fries.
"Oh, yum."
One of the twins fed him a fry, another opened the condiments. The fries were just as he liked them, already perfectly salted, slightly crisp on the outside, soft on the inside.
"I like a little bit of everything on my burger."
Rick nodded. "Cool. I'll set you up."
One burger got everything, one got ketchup, one got mustard.
He grabbed his burger, moaning. It was perfect. This fantasy slots thing was pretty damn sweet. "So who's the ketchup and who's the mustard?"
Rick grinned, cut the burgers in half and the boys switched. Rick shrugged. "We like them both, but not together. It's too..."
"Wet," Mickey finished.
Man, they were fascinating. Everything about them. Completely and utterly.
Tank fed Rick a fry, and then Mickey, and then concentrated on devouring his burger. They all ate quietly, Rick and Mickey in tune there, feeding each other, touching and murmuring, so focused.
A part of him still couldn't believe they'd let him in, that they were sharing what they had with him. Then Rick kissed him again, Mickey pressed up against his spine, and he believed.
He had half his can of Coke to wash down the burger and fries and then, stomach no longer growling, he focused back on the twins.
Rick slipped over, cuddling against his back. "Finished eating?"
He reached back, stroking whatever skin he could reach. "I am. You?"
"Yeah. Mickey?"
"So incredibly fucking done you can't imagine."
"Oh, good." He pushed the service cart away from the bed. "It wouldn't be rude to just pounce you both now, would it?"
"I don't think I'd be offended..."
That was Mickey, so Tank wrapped a hand around his neck and tugged him in for a kiss. He fucked Mickey's lips with his tongue, an imitation of what he wanted to do to Mickey's pretty little ass. Mickey groaned, lips parted, hips rocking into him.
"I want you." He reached out to touch Rick. "You, too."
"You can have us."
Mickey nodded, agreeing with his brother. "Both."
"Too bad I don't have two pricks. I'd do you at the same time." It occurred to him he might want to be careful what he wished for here. So far they were batting a thousand at giving him exactly what he wanted.
"You'll have to settle for one after the other, I guess." Rick's teeth were sharp, stinging on his neck.
He gasped, his hips bucking into the air. His cock strained hard against his jeans. He needed to get naked. Preferably right now. "I don't think that's settling at all."
"No?" Rick bit again.
"Are you sure?" Mickey nuzzled his jaw.
"Fuck, yes, I'm sure. You two are my fantasy come true, and a man can't ask for more than that."
Tank put in the call to room service, his stomach growling loudly, letting him, and the twins, know that he really was hungry for food. He hung up the phone and took the menu back to the little desk, putting it away.
"They said fifteen minutes." He told Rick and Mickey with a smile.
Fuck, they were pretty. And sexy. And hot as hell. Rick had his arms around Mickey, face pressed against one shoulder, mouth working. Mickey's legs were moving restlessly, the man's eyes heavy-lidded.
Tank’s prick tried to fill again at the sight of them all over each-other, but he'd need food first. Then he should be good for another round or two. Maybe three.
He opened his arms for them. "You two wanna come sit?" Not that he wasn't enjoying the show.
They moved like one person, slinking over to slide around him like a pair of kittens. His cock jerked again, going semi-hard in another valiant attempt to rise and salute them. He wrapped an arm around each and held them close. Mickey's skin was warmer than Rick's, just a bit, and Rick's body was harder, a touch more muscular.
"So what do the two of you do, aside from make my fantasies come true?"
"Comics." Mickey grinned, winked. "I write."
"I draw." Rick licked his ear.
They were making it very hard to carry on a conversation. "Seriously? That's pretty cool."
"Uh-huh. We have a couple. It's a good life." Mickey snuggled closer, rubbing against him.
"It sounds like fun. And you can work together. That must be... distracting." His cock was getting harder by the second, proving him wrong about his own stamina.
"We've always been together."
Rick nodded, tugged his earlobe. "Always."
He turned toward Rick and nipped at his lips in retaliation for the tug. "Never been alone. I can't imagine."
"We'd hate it. We like each other." Mickey squealed when Rick goosed him. "A lot."
Tank laughed. "You ever get mad at each other? Fight?" He couldn't believe two guys could be together always and never argue.
"All the time." Rick grinned.
Mickey started leading him back to the bed. "I always win."
"Is that right?" He asked the question of Rick, not Mickey, as he followed. He'd go wherever they wanted.
"I always let him win, absolutely."
Tank laughed. All the harder when Mickey stuck his tongue out at Rick. Rick leaned forward, catching Mickey up, taking a hard-edged kiss. Groaning, Tank watched, utterly captivated by them. His hands slid down, each one grabbing a handful off ass.
God, they were like a wet dream. A slinky, sexy wet dream.
"We've got food showing up any minute now." His voice was thick, his cock hard again. He didn't care so much about the food now as being interrupted.
"Burgers, right? I'm starving." Mickey bit his bottom lip, teeth tugging on it.
"Uh-huh. Big meat." He winked, eyes caught on that sweet, abused lip.
"Yum." Rick bit his collarbone, his neck.
He groaned, tilting his head to offer Rick's hungry mouth more.
"You smell good, man."
"I'm guessing I'm starting to smell like the two of you." Or maybe a bathhouse, but he meant it in the best way and figured it might sound rude to actually say that part out loud.
"Mmm. A man that smells like need." Mickey's hands were maddening. "I approve."
Groaning, he decided that he wasn't going to insist they be circumspect until the food came. This was too good not to indulge and enjoy and immerse himself in. "I approve of the two of you."
"Mmm. And I approve of the three of us." Rick's fingers found his nipple, pinched it. Hard.
"Fuck!" His hips jerked.
"I think that's a great plan." Mickey grinned.
"Mmmhmm. After burgers."
"Uh-huh. You guys are making it hard, though."
"That, my dear man, is our job." Oh, he loved it when they spoke together.
He laughed, but the sound was husky, needy. Which of course was when the knock came at the door. "Room service."
Groaning, he grabbed his jeans and tugged them on to go get the door. He took the carty, blushing when the server looked past him and moaned. "On the house, sir. No charge."
"Really? Thank you." He took a five out of his wallet and tipped the man.
"Thanks and... congratulations. Wow."
He turned his head to see Rick and Mickey wrapped in a passionate embrace, Rick's hands in Mickey's hair. If he blushed any harder, he was going to burst into flames. Still -- they were with him, weren't they?
"Yeah. Wow. Thanks." Grinning, he closed the door and turned to enjoy the show.
"Mmm. I smell food." Rick licked at Mickey's lips.
"Yeah, burgers for all. On the house. I'm not sure if that's because of the fantasy winner thing or because the waiter caught an eyeful of you two."
"Either way, what fun." Mickey bent backward, grinned at him.
Man, just look at that. "You guys are going to have to behave if we're going to eat."
"If we eat, then we can spend time playing after."
"That's right. The rest of the night." The morning. Into the afternoon if he was really lucky. Maybe they'd give him their phone number.
"Sounds perfect." Rick pulled Mickey up. "Let's eat."
He pulled the service cart over to the bed and sat on the edge. Opening the silver domes revealed three succulent looking burgers, complete with big, meaty fries.
"Oh, yum."
One of the twins fed him a fry, another opened the condiments. The fries were just as he liked them, already perfectly salted, slightly crisp on the outside, soft on the inside.
"I like a little bit of everything on my burger."
Rick nodded. "Cool. I'll set you up."
One burger got everything, one got ketchup, one got mustard.
He grabbed his burger, moaning. It was perfect. This fantasy slots thing was pretty damn sweet. "So who's the ketchup and who's the mustard?"
Rick grinned, cut the burgers in half and the boys switched. Rick shrugged. "We like them both, but not together. It's too..."
"Wet," Mickey finished.
Man, they were fascinating. Everything about them. Completely and utterly.
Tank fed Rick a fry, and then Mickey, and then concentrated on devouring his burger. They all ate quietly, Rick and Mickey in tune there, feeding each other, touching and murmuring, so focused.
A part of him still couldn't believe they'd let him in, that they were sharing what they had with him. Then Rick kissed him again, Mickey pressed up against his spine, and he believed.
He had half his can of Coke to wash down the burger and fries and then, stomach no longer growling, he focused back on the twins.
Rick slipped over, cuddling against his back. "Finished eating?"
He reached back, stroking whatever skin he could reach. "I am. You?"
"Yeah. Mickey?"
"So incredibly fucking done you can't imagine."
"Oh, good." He pushed the service cart away from the bed. "It wouldn't be rude to just pounce you both now, would it?"
"I don't think I'd be offended..."
That was Mickey, so Tank wrapped a hand around his neck and tugged him in for a kiss. He fucked Mickey's lips with his tongue, an imitation of what he wanted to do to Mickey's pretty little ass. Mickey groaned, lips parted, hips rocking into him.
"I want you." He reached out to touch Rick. "You, too."
"You can have us."
Mickey nodded, agreeing with his brother. "Both."
"Too bad I don't have two pricks. I'd do you at the same time." It occurred to him he might want to be careful what he wished for here. So far they were batting a thousand at giving him exactly what he wanted.
"You'll have to settle for one after the other, I guess." Rick's teeth were sharp, stinging on his neck.
He gasped, his hips bucking into the air. His cock strained hard against his jeans. He needed to get naked. Preferably right now. "I don't think that's settling at all."
"No?" Rick bit again.
"Are you sure?" Mickey nuzzled his jaw.
"Fuck, yes, I'm sure. You two are my fantasy come true, and a man can't ask for more than that."
July 26, 2012
O-1!
The Olympics are tomorrow!
I shall be watching the opening ceremonies and having a blast!
I shall be watching the opening ceremonies and having a blast!
July 23, 2012
My God It's Monday
O-4!
We're having thunderstorms today! Not, thunderstorm warnings that never come to fruition, but actual thunderstorms over a period of several hours!
And that's all I've got today.
We're having thunderstorms today! Not, thunderstorm warnings that never come to fruition, but actual thunderstorms over a period of several hours!
And that's all I've got today.
July 22, 2012
Fiction Friday on a Sunday
Club Fantasy, Chapter 23
Rick's cock ached and Mickey wasn't helping, with the way he was pushing back against it, rubbing against him.
Asshole.
Rick leaned forward, nuzzling Mickey's shoulder, feeling Tank's eyes on him. Was he serious about letting the big man spank him, warm his ass, get him off?
Mickey pushed back rubbing his cock. "I want to watch, Rick."
He got a slow smile from Tank, the heat in the man's eyes incredible. And aimed right at him. "Whatever you want, Rick. It's your turn."
One big hand slid over Mickey's hip to cup his asscheek, let him feel.
"I want." He shifted, Mickey moaned, and the air seemed to get heavier.
Tank nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, patting his own thighs. "Come on, then. I'll do you right."
Mickey slipped off his lap, standing and turning to kiss him, hands working his belt open. Mickey's hands were trembling -- his twin more excited than he was, almost. Almost.
"Senfuckingsational," murmured Tank, eyes on him and Mickey. "You're so hot for each other."
Mickey smiled, not looking away from his eyes. "I love him. You're going to look so pretty, spread out."
Rick blushed and he reached out, stroking one hand through the long hair. "Perv."
"You both are. Hell, we all are." Tank laughed, the sound husky and bright. "Just a bunch of pervs having the time of their fucking lives."
Mickey stripped his jeans off, got him naked, then carefully arranged him over Tank's thighs, kissing him the whole time.
Tank's hand slid down to find his cock, making sure it was between the thick thighs before Tank closed his legs. "That feel good?"
"Yeah." Oh, fuck.
"Start nice and easy. He likes the deep, slow buildup." Mickey looked up at Tank. "We're different there. I like a couple of hard slaps, when I'm about to shoot. He wants the whole thing."
"So not just the same," murmured Tank, big hand sliding on Rick's ass, squeezing and touching, not spanking. Yet.
"No. No, we're very." He moaned as Mickey kissed him again, then finished, "Different."
Tank's hand came down on his ass, not too hard, almost a love tap. He hummed, eyelids fluttering a bit.
Mickey moaned. "So pretty."
"You gonna stay there and keep his mouth busy?" Tank asked, another soft swat landing on Rick's ass.
"For the beginning, yeah. When you have him flying, I'll watch." Mickey looked excited, flushed.
"Is he going to come from this?" Tank sounded excited by the prospect. Hell, he could feel the evidence of how turned on Tank was, the man's cock pushing up against his belly. "Are you going to come from this, Rick?"
"He can and then we'll go for round two."
Rick nodded, forcing himself to answer. "I can. If you... if you know what you're doing."
"Slow and steady lead-up, right? I can do that." Tank's hand came down again and then again, the touches still nice and easy, almost not hard enough. Rick closed his eyes, nodded, let himself ride things, let them build.
Tank kept smacking him, the heat slowly growing. He started humping, pushing his cock through the sheath created by Tank's thighs. With every hump, Mickey kissed him, tongue sliding in his lips, encouraging him.
Tank's swats became stronger, spreading out over his ass, the tops of his thighs. He started crying out with each blow, hips bucking and rolling, cock leaking, slicking each thrust.
"Look at you." Tank sounded breathless, voice husky. "Pushing up into it..."
"He loves it. He rides it; you have nice, big hands." Mickey moved away, went to kneel in front of Tank, watch.
"He's beautiful with it." Tank kept hitting, his ass beginning to burn.
"It's good. Don't stop." Please. Fuck.
"I won't. Fuck, you're hot, Rick."
Yeah, he was hot, his ass was on fire. He was going to scream, just from pure need. "Please. Oh. Oh, fuck."
"Yeah. Yeah, harder. Harder. Make him come." Mickey sounded hungry.
Tank listened to Mickey, hitting him harder, faster, hand flying hard against his ass.
He was. He was gonna. Oh. Oh, sweet fuck. He tossed his head, then Mickey surged forward, teeth sinking into his shoulder, driving him over the edge. He screamed, balls aching as he shot, teeth rattling.
"Oh, feel that. Just feel it." Tank groaned, hand rubbing over his ass.
Mickey shifted, tongue sliding over his ass.
"Mmm. Hot."
"You both are. God." Tank laughed. "You think they got room service here? I'm gonna need my Wheaties to keep up with you."
"Oh. Food. I could."
"So eat," he finished.
Chuckling, Tank leaned up and over and got hold of the phone, the muscled thighs moving beneath his belly.
"What should I order?"
"Meat." They answered together, then laughed.
"Oh, I've got that for you right here." Tank winked, hand sliding over his hard cock. "But I can order us a batch of burgers."
"Mmm. Burgers."
Mickey nodded. "Then a shower."
"Then more," he added
"Sex." They finished together.
"Fuck, yes. I'm down with that plan."
Tank made the call, eyes on them as he spoke with the room service waiter.
The man was a stud. A playground. And they were the only kids in the park.
Rick's cock ached and Mickey wasn't helping, with the way he was pushing back against it, rubbing against him.
Asshole.
Rick leaned forward, nuzzling Mickey's shoulder, feeling Tank's eyes on him. Was he serious about letting the big man spank him, warm his ass, get him off?
Mickey pushed back rubbing his cock. "I want to watch, Rick."
He got a slow smile from Tank, the heat in the man's eyes incredible. And aimed right at him. "Whatever you want, Rick. It's your turn."
One big hand slid over Mickey's hip to cup his asscheek, let him feel.
"I want." He shifted, Mickey moaned, and the air seemed to get heavier.
Tank nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, patting his own thighs. "Come on, then. I'll do you right."
Mickey slipped off his lap, standing and turning to kiss him, hands working his belt open. Mickey's hands were trembling -- his twin more excited than he was, almost. Almost.
"Senfuckingsational," murmured Tank, eyes on him and Mickey. "You're so hot for each other."
Mickey smiled, not looking away from his eyes. "I love him. You're going to look so pretty, spread out."
Rick blushed and he reached out, stroking one hand through the long hair. "Perv."
"You both are. Hell, we all are." Tank laughed, the sound husky and bright. "Just a bunch of pervs having the time of their fucking lives."
Mickey stripped his jeans off, got him naked, then carefully arranged him over Tank's thighs, kissing him the whole time.
Tank's hand slid down to find his cock, making sure it was between the thick thighs before Tank closed his legs. "That feel good?"
"Yeah." Oh, fuck.
"Start nice and easy. He likes the deep, slow buildup." Mickey looked up at Tank. "We're different there. I like a couple of hard slaps, when I'm about to shoot. He wants the whole thing."
"So not just the same," murmured Tank, big hand sliding on Rick's ass, squeezing and touching, not spanking. Yet.
"No. No, we're very." He moaned as Mickey kissed him again, then finished, "Different."
Tank's hand came down on his ass, not too hard, almost a love tap. He hummed, eyelids fluttering a bit.
Mickey moaned. "So pretty."
"You gonna stay there and keep his mouth busy?" Tank asked, another soft swat landing on Rick's ass.
"For the beginning, yeah. When you have him flying, I'll watch." Mickey looked excited, flushed.
"Is he going to come from this?" Tank sounded excited by the prospect. Hell, he could feel the evidence of how turned on Tank was, the man's cock pushing up against his belly. "Are you going to come from this, Rick?"
"He can and then we'll go for round two."
Rick nodded, forcing himself to answer. "I can. If you... if you know what you're doing."
"Slow and steady lead-up, right? I can do that." Tank's hand came down again and then again, the touches still nice and easy, almost not hard enough. Rick closed his eyes, nodded, let himself ride things, let them build.
Tank kept smacking him, the heat slowly growing. He started humping, pushing his cock through the sheath created by Tank's thighs. With every hump, Mickey kissed him, tongue sliding in his lips, encouraging him.
Tank's swats became stronger, spreading out over his ass, the tops of his thighs. He started crying out with each blow, hips bucking and rolling, cock leaking, slicking each thrust.
"Look at you." Tank sounded breathless, voice husky. "Pushing up into it..."
"He loves it. He rides it; you have nice, big hands." Mickey moved away, went to kneel in front of Tank, watch.
"He's beautiful with it." Tank kept hitting, his ass beginning to burn.
"It's good. Don't stop." Please. Fuck.
"I won't. Fuck, you're hot, Rick."
Yeah, he was hot, his ass was on fire. He was going to scream, just from pure need. "Please. Oh. Oh, fuck."
"Yeah. Yeah, harder. Harder. Make him come." Mickey sounded hungry.
Tank listened to Mickey, hitting him harder, faster, hand flying hard against his ass.
He was. He was gonna. Oh. Oh, sweet fuck. He tossed his head, then Mickey surged forward, teeth sinking into his shoulder, driving him over the edge. He screamed, balls aching as he shot, teeth rattling.
"Oh, feel that. Just feel it." Tank groaned, hand rubbing over his ass.
Mickey shifted, tongue sliding over his ass.
"Mmm. Hot."
"You both are. God." Tank laughed. "You think they got room service here? I'm gonna need my Wheaties to keep up with you."
"Oh. Food. I could."
"So eat," he finished.
Chuckling, Tank leaned up and over and got hold of the phone, the muscled thighs moving beneath his belly.
"What should I order?"
"Meat." They answered together, then laughed.
"Oh, I've got that for you right here." Tank winked, hand sliding over his hard cock. "But I can order us a batch of burgers."
"Mmm. Burgers."
Mickey nodded. "Then a shower."
"Then more," he added
"Sex." They finished together.
"Fuck, yes. I'm down with that plan."
Tank made the call, eyes on them as he spoke with the room service waiter.
The man was a stud. A playground. And they were the only kids in the park.
Suddenly Sunday
Once again the week has disappeared on me.
O-5! Me and the opening ceremonies have a date in just five days on the 27th.
Torquere's got a Christmas in July sale on - 20% off until Monday night with the code xjuly2012.
This week's Fiction Friday will post later today. Better late than never, right? We're still with Tank and the twins.
Fallen Angel got a new cover and I could sit and drool over it for ages. Quite possibly I already have... ;)
O-5! Me and the opening ceremonies have a date in just five days on the 27th.
Torquere's got a Christmas in July sale on - 20% off until Monday night with the code xjuly2012.
This week's Fiction Friday will post later today. Better late than never, right? We're still with Tank and the twins.
Fallen Angel got a new cover and I could sit and drool over it for ages. Quite possibly I already have... ;)
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