Confessions of a Screamer by Alastair Anders
(passionate gay sex, exhibitionism, m/m erotic romance)

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He's always been the strong, silent type, but an irresistibly sexy man with the magic touch can turn him into an insatiable bottom. Between his hot boyfriend and an enormous dildo, how many neighbors will be pounding on the walls by the time they're through? A reader responds: "This is one of the hottest sex scenes ever put to paper!"


I pound on the door, and he calls “It’s open.”

He’s lounging in the easy chair by the big picture window, drinking an espresso out of one of those special tiny mugs. He’s wearing a slim black T-shirt and some kind of glamorous pajama pants, probably Armani. His feet are bare. Somehow he manages to look gorgeous as hell even when he’s unshaven and in sweatpants, for fuck’s sake.

“Hey there,” he says.

I close the door behind me and lock it. Oh fuck me, all I want to do is drop to my hands and knees and crawl across the floor and tear his fucking clothes off with my teeth.

He gestures to me with the little coffee cup. “Would you like one?”

“Come on, baby,” I say. “I know you didn’t bring me over here for a fucking cappuccino.”

He smiles. His smile makes me melt every time he uses it on me. He picks up the mug and the saucer and goes to put them in the sink.

At the counter, I seize him by the shoulders and crush my mouth against his. He kisses me back, pulling me so close to him that I can feel his erection against mine — he isn’t wearing underwear. I run my hands across the broad back and the sculpted ass and the slim hips that they’ve almost forgotten. God, I missed him.

My coat and sweater come off like they're made of paper. I pull his T-shirt over his head and toss it away. Pants and shoes disappear. The skin-to-skin touch makes me crazy, makes my head swim and my knees buckle. I kiss him again, harder and deeper now, like I want to climb inside.

We practically drag each other into the bedroom. I notice that my dildo is still where I left it, on top of his dresser – good, there’s my big metal baby. I trip over the open suitcase on the floor, and he catches me. He wraps both arms around my waist and hauls me to my feet. He's so strong. I'm reminded of his firm hands and his powerful thighs and – oh fuck yes – his hard, straining cock. Oh, I'm going to like this.

He spreads me out on his bed. He runs one hand from my lips to my groin and starts to stroke my cock. My mouth opens and a little sound escapes. He takes a handful of lube and works one finger into my ass. Finds my sweet spot and massages it slow and hard. He knows exactly how to touch me. So gentle, so attentive, but so forceful at the same time — he can turn me into a mewling little cock-slut under his hands. I swear the sex feels better every time.

About Alastair Anders

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Published January 12, 2012 12 pages
Genres: Erotica, Gay & Lesbian, Literature & Fiction. Fiction

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