I'm stuck in a straight guy's apartment. How am I supposed to deal with this?
I hadn't planned on living with Ross very long. I just needed a place to stay to get on my feet after a bad break up, and happened to be friends with his sister. But when the shelter in place order comes down, not only do I lose any chance of finding my own space; my bartending job dries up, too.
And Ross is taking this order very seriously. He grew up in a family of Montana doomsday preppers, and his rules are very clear: we've got three months of food, and neither of us is leaving—for any reason.
I don't have a ton of money, and there are bills to pay. But there are a few different ways to make some cash online—especially when the rest of the world is shut inside, too, and need something to entertain them. Who would have imagined I would end up on a cam site entertaining guys from all over the world just by being myself and having fun? So long as I wait until Ross goes to sleep before I log on, anyway—I definitely do not want him to know what I'm up to on his couch.
But Ross is full of surprises, it turns out. And I guess I am too. Because what I end up sharing with him is something I've never shared with anyone before. I just worry that things are about to get very complicated. Because every gay boy knows the cardinal rule:
Never, ever fall for the straight guy.
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Excerpt
“Holy... shit,” I muttered. I looked at the camera. “Did you guys see that?”
@LuckyTom: That was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.
@Look3r123: Shit, is he okay? Is he breathing? Did he die?
@YourDad57: Russ I think you killed him, brother. What’s in your cum?
I laughed, and swiped a bit from the end of my cock, and looked at it like I was seriously wondering. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe I have a super power. What do you think, Cal?”
Cal opened his eyes, and I angled the iPad to make sure he was fully in frame. He shook his head, and waved a hand. “I don’t know. Gotta be something, though. Here, let me...” he reached for my arm.
I let him take my hand, and he pulled it close and closed his lips around my fingertip, nursing the drop of cum off it. He shook his head once it was clean. “Not sure. Not enough of a sample.”
I grunted, and grabbed the base of my dick to shake it at him. “Maybe you better clean this off, then.”
I couldn’t even help myself at that point. Cal glanced up at me, questioning and exciting. I gave him a nod, and he sat up as I lifted my cock so he could get to it more easily. His mouth closed over the head of my dick and my head rolled back as a shiver ran through me. Then I sank into his mouth, and maybe changed my mind about whether I could go a second time. He groaned quietly, and his slick fingers, covered in my cum, his, and some vaseline, found my nuts and gave them a gentle kind of squeeze as he took me down until I pushed into his throat and then past.
“Fuck,” I gasped, barely able to get a breath. “Yeah, fucking clean it all up, Cal.”
He grunted, leaned in, gripped my dick with his other hand, and began to work me. I shuddered, looked down and almost stopped him. I didn’t think I could really come again, not so soon, not after that. But the first one had been weak. Nothing special, nothing extraordinarily intense. Not like the time he sucked me. I tangled my fingers in his hair and moved my hips with his head, pulling away the same time he did and thrusting in slow.
It was like the first time all over again—all that head, that suction, the magic of his tongue. It made me drunk, made my tongue loose. Except this time I knew what was in his head when he did it. How he was desperate to please me, to treat my cock just right. His groaning grew higher pitched, more urgent. He fucking loved sucking my dick. And I realized that it made me feel like a god that he did. “Good,” I rumbled. “That’s good, Cal. Fucking suck it all up. Think you can make me come again? Try. Get that cum, little guy. You wanna own this dick? That’s rich. Look at you, you don’t own shit. This dick owns you, doesn’t it? You fucking dream about it, think about it all day... you want another taste. Work for it. Suck it out of me, good boy.”
Ding, ding, ding. Ding-ding. Ding. Ding ding ding.
Oh yeah—they fucking loved it.
Simon Strange loves coffee, red wine, craft beer, and men. Especially men. Especially the men you should never, ever screw...
What is it about the forbidden that gets our blood hot? Is it just the rebellious instinct to do what we're told is wrong? Those men we grew up with, the ones that were either always looking over us or always by our side—or chasing us around—the ones that say they don't want us, and would never ever... well, just this once, if you don't tell...
So that's what you get from Simon Strange. Stories of the forbidden, of the filthy, and the naughty, and the never-ever-tell, and of course, the strange. With nearly 150 reviews for his collection of erotica and romance, and an average of four and a half stars across the board, you'll almost certainly find something you like in the pages of his work.
Just be sure to bring a change of undies. ;)
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