Eight gay erotic short stories of lust and love, these tales are sizzling off the press! Here you'll find an unlikely couple stealing a quick tryst between sets at a drag show, college boyfriends spending a long weekend together on campus, a young man with a forbidden crush on his best friend's father, flamboyant neighbors, horny lovers, college room- mates, and a petulant submissive with a latex fetish.
Check out these stories and take a wild romp through the wicked pages of some of J.M. Snyder's hottest, best-selling gay erotic fiction, collected together into one print volume for the first time in Eight! Contains the stories:Before the Show: A college student by day, drag queen by night, Devin Elliot loves his job. He likes to watch himself get ready, primping in the mirror, his masculinity slowly peeled away and replaced with feminine silk and lace. As he's getting ready for his stage show, a knock on the door interrupts him. With the clock counting down to showtime, can Devin and Chuck manage to snag some time alone before the show?
Fuck the Foreplay: Tory's a freshman in college who can't stand being away from his boyfriend Jon for long. When his roommate decides to head home for the weekend, Tory invites Jon to stay at the dorm. The moment Jon arrives, Tory can't wait to get their romantic get-together underway.
Mastering Stefan: Stefan has a latex fetish. When he meets the man of his dreams at a local gay bar, can he prove himself worthy of Master’s affection?
Money's Worth: Carl has always harbored feelings for his outrageous roommate, Ritchie, but he's too shy to do anything about it. When a stranger outside a club offers Ritchie a blowjob for ten bucks, he doesn’t have the cash, and Carl isn't paying someone else to suck off the guy he likes. If Ritchie wants a blowjob, why doesn't he just ask Carl?
My Best Friend's Dad: I had the worst crush on Mikey Pierce's dad. The week before leaving for college, I stayed at Mikey's while Mr. Pierce and his buddies gambled. When I snuck downstairs for beers, the card game was over and I thought all the visitors had left. But Mr. Pierce wasn't alone in the dining room. The man with him owed a couple hundred bucks from playing cards, and I had a ring-side seat as he paid up.
On the Down Low: Nick's the only white guy at his roommate Tyrone's hip hop party, but Tyrone's friend De'Andre is the center of attention. The moment Nick notices him, he gets sprung. De'Andre is big and black and hot damn, but he's sexy. Nick feels out of his league -- he's young, white, gay, and desperately looking for a chance to spend some time alone with De'Andre. Luckily De'Andre seems just as interested.
Take It Outside: It's close to midnight, New Year's Eve, and Matt is tired of watching Vic mingle at Roxie's party. After several beers, Matt wants a piece of his lover, and he wants it now. And we all know Matt gets what he wants. NOTE: You don't have to read any other Vic and Matt story to understand what happens in this one!
Windows: Thom is down on love, having walked in on his lover with a friend and caught them doing the nasty. After he kicks said lover out, he writes off men for good. Then Bradley moves in next door and Thom can’t help but notice. Suddenly Thom finds himself in the position of voyeur and knows Bradley knows he’s watching. He doesn’t need another lover, but how long can he resist Bradley's advances?
NOTE: These stories are available in the Guilty Pleasures Box Set.
58,157 words | 228 pages | BUY AT JMS BOOKS :: UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK :: AMAZON
EXCERPT:
From Windows:
Because the light's on next door, I can see boxes stacked up in the center of the room, headboards propped against the wall, a mattress tossed carelessly onto the floor beneath the window. Every now and then Rudy comes into view, stepping onto the mattress and then out of sight again as he starts to unpack. I wonder if this will be their bedroom. I wonder why I care.
It doesn't take me long to get the rest of the paint off the window and just as I'm about to move onto the next one, I hear Bradley's voice drift up from the other house. He's so loud. "Rudy, darling," he says, and then he laughs, that magical sound that's begun to bring a smile to my lips whenever I hear it. I've decided I quite like that laugh. "You know that's not where I want that dresser to go."
Rudy says something indistinct and then Bradley laughs again. Against my better judgment, I pull the sheer curtains in front of the window and peek out between them. Down in the room below, Bradley steps up onto the mattress, tanned legs and thick arms and the broad expanse of his back just begging to be touched. By me, I think as Rudy comes up to him, rubs his hands down the bunched muscles in Bradley's arms. I don't need to be watching this.
But I can't turn away. I remind myself of the other window, the dishes in my sink, my bed, things I can be doing, should be doing, but I can't seem to turn away from the window. Rudy leans close to Bradley, whispers something that makes him giggle, and then starts to knead his lover's arms, his shoulders, his neck. "I think he's kind of cute," Bradley says in reply.
My breath catches in my throat. They're not -- God, I wish I could hear whatever it is Rudy says that makes Bradley turn around and glance at my house, up at me. They see me, I think wildly, and without thinking I cross the room and hit the switch to cut off the overhead light. My heart beats like a drum in the darkness, hard enough to bruise my ribs, they saw me. Saw me watching, and Bradley said what? I think he's kind of cute. Jesus Christ.
Go to bed now, Thom, my mind whispers even as I start towards the window again. They've got names for guys like you, watching your neighbors through the curtains. You want this kid to call the cops on your perverted ass? Just go to bed and forget all about him and his tight skin and his infectious laugh.
Only I can't, and this time I stand to one side of the curtain, out of sight. I pull the edge of the fabric away from the window just enough so I can see, and I promise myself one more look, that's it, just to see if they're still talking about me and then I'll go. I swear --
Bradley stands at the window now, hands on the sill in front of him, legs spread wide, head thrown back. Behind him, Rudy has his jeans down to his knees, his boxers open, working his dick hard with one hand. The other is in the front of Bradley's shorts, squeezing, stroking, I can feel that hand, it tugs at my own erection, rolls my own balls in the palm, fondles me. My own hand strays below my belt, rubs against the thick swelling at my crotch. I'm not seeing this, I think. I'm not watching it. I'm not.
Rudy's dick stands up from a dark swirl of hair, angry and red. He pulls Bradley's shorts down in the back, exposing a tight ass. No tan lines, I think absently. How cute.
Suddenly Rudy disappears. "Come on, Rudy," Bradley moans, grabbing at the front of his shorts. "Please. I need it."
I ache at that voice, that plea. Another few seconds and I'll rush over there myself, take him in my arms and thrust into him, I'm hard enough already. But Rudy returns, his erection glistening from a lubricated condom, and he swats Bradley's hand away as it kneads the thick shaft that tents his shorts. "Rudy," Bradley starts, and that's as far as he gets before Rudy shoves into him, his hands finding their way into the front of Bradley's shorts again.
Bradley's eyes slip closed, his lips part, his cheeks go slack and what I wouldn't give to have him lean back into me like that, to moan my name instead of Rudy's, to cry out yes, please, harder, God YES for me. Even from this distance, I can hear the steady uh uh uh as he meets Rudy thrust for thrust, and each moan makes me tremble, each gasp makes me throb. "Rudy," he sighs, arching back against his lover, bucking into him, harder, faster, setting a furious rhythm that ends with Rudy collapsing against Bradley's back and the front of Bradley's shorts growing damp.
I sink to the floor, my knees to my chest, my pants viselike around my own raging erection. I can hear Bradley giggle, breathless, and then Rudy says something I can't quite catch. I'm sure it's about me, they know I'm here, they did that just for me.
Don't be silly, that voice in my mind tells me. They're lovers. First night in a new house, worked up a sweat all day, of course they were looking for release.
In the window. After they saw me watching them. Yeah, right.
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