A novel is a love affair, with its ups and downs, but a short story can sometimes be nothing more than a one night stand, a brief date, or a quick kiss in the dark. Flashed! is a collection of 36 very short, "flash fiction" stories and a handful of love poems by J.M. Snyder, best-selling author of gay erotic romance. Each vignette is a glimpse into the lives and loves of very different couples. Some erotic, some bittersweet, every story in this collection celebrates a passion found only between two men.
From drag queens to college hoops players, veterans to rockstars, one time lovers to lifelong companions, men at work to men in tights, there's a little something for everyone in this collection. Some of these stories were once posted to the author's blog or appeared online elsewhere, but fans will find many new stories -- and characters -- to love once they've been Flashed!
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EXCERPT:
Can I Just Say?
the taste of you still lingers on my tongue
can i just say
you taste like salt and the sea
and sticky taffy and sand
can i just say
you taste like summer and the rain
and hot pretzels drizzled with honey and mustard
can i just say
you taste like cola and the tears i cried
as you held me close on the beach
after we had sex even though i told you no
* * * *
DJ ‘N’ Mr. Yes
On weekends, the city’s pulse quickens in time with thundering hip-hop beats bleeding from the clubs out into the night. DJ follows the crowd, surfing from one party to the next, looking for the latest music, the trendiest clothes, the hottest bodies. He wants someone hard and tight, muscles barely sheathed by tanned skin, enough of an ass to grind up against in the dark. Someone to please him, someone to tease. Someone to take him in as far as he’ll go and beg for more.
He finds such a guy at a club downtown. Young, blond, hard abs beneath a mesh tank and arms that DJ could barely encircle with both hands. Eyes like the ice in whatever it is he’s drinking, and lips he licks wet when he sees DJ looking. The music moves him closer, each bump of his hips cranking DJ’s lust up another notch, until he’s rubbing his groin against DJ’s in welcome. His eyes ask that eternal question: “Where?”
DJ leads the way to the bathroom. In a cramped stall, DJ’s hands smooth up under the mesh tank, his tongue circling around pert nipples until the guy moans, “Yes.”
DJ works his way into those painted-on jeans, finds a thick erection and thumbs behind it, earning him another “Yes.”
A damp mouth on his, legs spread at his touch, hands fisted in his shirt when he raises those knees to ease inside that puckered hole, yes.
Hot breath in his ear, barely audible here, yes.
DJ pierces into him with rough thrusts, fucks into the warm, willing ass again and again. The skin that sheathes his cock shudders with the music, a fevered heartbeat that races into the night. Yes, and yes, and yes, until they both come in a sticky, heated rush.
Yes.
