Author: indieerotica

Episode 8: How to Build an Author Platform From the Ground Up

If you’re new to being an author, how do you build that author platform that everyone says you need? In this month’s episode, Cameron talks about how he built an author platform for his new young adult pen name, Dylan James, in only a few weeks — and gives tips and guidance on how you can set up an author platform that works for you, your audience, and your books.

Posted: August 18, 2018
Length: 33:25 m
Size: 45.89 MB

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The Agreement (Ruff Times #2)

Simon was convinced. Hypnosis wasn’t for him. Adrian was someone he enjoyed meeting, but wouldn’t ever see again. But whether he wants to or not, the truth is that that a single chance encounter has changed him irrevocably, and now he must face the consequences.

The heart wants what the heart wants. Now, Simon must come to terms with the desires that Adrian awakened in him, and he has to decide whether he wants to take the next step and sign an agreement with the man who changed his life.

The Agreement is a 10,000-word short story and part two in a series.

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Excerpt

Whatever it was that Adrian did to him had proven to be a boon. For all the nervousness that Simon still felt about hypnosis, he couldn’t have gotten through midterms without Adrian’s help. His exams had gone by, and he had survived. Now he was feeling more at ease with himself than he ever had, even before all the distress that his current living situation had caused him.

All that Simon could do now was wait, hoping and praying that he hadn’t fucked any of his exams up. Granted, he was feeling pretty confident. He had gone into the tests more assured than he had expected to be. It might have had something to do with the fact that the week leading up to the exam had been one of the best weeks of his life.

For whatever reason, and Simon strongly suspected it had something to do with Adrian, he had simply had a lot more clarity of mind and ability to focus during that week. He had been able to study, and not just study, but study well.

It had even gotten to the point that his friends made jabs at his expense. They had joked about how he was evolving into a nerd. And although it was a bit uncomfortable at times, it had been a positive experience.

For the first time in his life he had been able to look at a book, read it, and remember the content. It was exactly what he’d needed to feel confident about the exams. But a part of him didn’t want to acknowledge that maybe something positive, more than just getting his rocks off, had come from the brief tryst he’d had with Adrian.

In fact, despite the gratefulness that he felt, Adrian was the last thing that Simon wanted to think about right now.

He leaned forward on his desk and drummed his fingers just beside his keyboard. He had found some random messageboard. At first, it had appeared fascinating and all, but it had quickly lost its charm. Right now, he was mostly pretending to read the thread titles, his eyes glazing over as he scrolled down the endless list of discussions, occasionally flicking to a preview image, if there was one.

It was little more than busywork for his mind. Simon needed to keep his thoughts occupied. Adrian was temptation given human flesh, and Simon didn’t want to give the guy any more of a foothold in his head than he already had.

Sure, the one encounter with Adrian had given Simon enough money to save his ass and had given him the chance to find a new job, but he wasn’t out of trouble just yet. The lingering promise of thousands of dollars became more and more appealing as the days wore on, but Simon wasn’t sure as to what he was willing to sacrifice for the much needed money.

To add to his issues, Simon had found going under incredibly arousing, and he didn’t know if he was ready to let go of control that easily. Even if there was something about giving up control that simply got his gears turning. Surrendering his independence and letting someone else muck about in his psyche made his cock twitch, but it was also a concept that terrified him to his core.

It was like there were two different Simons warring in his head. It was a constant source of anxiety that hadn’t, thankfully, bled into his day-to-day life just yet.

But here, at home, where he had very little to do besides surf the web, watch meaningless videos, and jerk off when he got horny, there wasn’t much of anything to keep his mind off of Adrian’s stupid, handsome, charming face.

At work he at least managed to put forward the appearance of being a functional adult, but at home, his concentration had been shot since finishing exams. He couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long before he got distracted, by something else, thoughts of Adrian, or even an insistent, persistent throbbing between his legs.

Simon was horny. He needed to get laid. And yet none of the guys on his dating apps were all that appealing to him. He knew that it was only natural to be feeling this thirsty after working all week on exams, but the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to sleep with anyone else was weird.

Deep down he suspected that Adrian had something to do with it, but he doubted that the guy would stoop to such levels. But the suspicion was there, and it did nothing to help his situation. If anything, it only made him more conflicted about his desire to go back to Adrian’s place and give up control again.

What if this time Adrian took advantage and turned him into a mindless sex slave? Sure, all the literature he’d read pointed to that being impossible to do, but what if? If Adrian truly had something to do with him not finding anyone on his dating apps who he wanted to have sex with, what more could Adrian do to him? But the big question was why the thought of Adrian changing the way his mind worked made him feel so hot and bothered.

And if Adrian could have that much control over him, could he even trust his own thoughts? The fact that he had developed something of a fetish for hypnosis and being changed mentally? What if it was all the result of a suggestion that Adrian had planted in him to make him more pliable?

He was horny, excited, and scared all at the same time. He wanted to trust Adrian. He wanted to sleep with Adrian. And he wanted to run away from Adrian. He was a mess. He liked to think that he wasn’t, but deep down he knew that he was.

If he had known what sort of psychological torment he would put himself through after going under for a stranger, he would have never agreed to Adrian’s offer. But there was nothing he could do about that now.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He looked at the messageboard and groaned. He didn’t even remember why he’d found it interesting in the first place. He clicked off of the tab and minimized the browser, but that might have been a mistake. In doing so he attracted his own attention to the other minimized window on his taskbar.

It was a private browsing session, one that he’d opened in a drunken, horny haze a couple of days after midterms. The fact that it existed was a source of constant shame and arousal, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t bring himself to close it.

He’d tried to forget about what was hidden behind that little blinking icon. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Now, after thinking about Adrian and his stupid face and all the stupid things he might have put in Simon’s mind, Simon’s cock was hard and pressing up against his thigh.

Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe he was tormenting himself over nothing. It certainly didn’t feel goodto be living in this constant limbo of anxiety.

What was it that Adrian had told him their first time together? That it was just better to let go? What if he just did. What if for once in his life he stopped trying to control things that were out of control? Hypnosis had felt so good. Letting someone else take over had been so liberating. Maybe he should just ignore the paranoid voice in the back of his head warning him that this wasn’t something he should get into.

Simon sighed. He couldn’t stop thinking about Adrian. He thought about the way that the hypnotist had taken him down, letting him drift deeper and deeper, of his own accord, and at his own pace. He took a deep breath and sighed, just like Adrian had thought him.

He closed his eyes and imagined all the stress and all the anxiety just flowing out of him as he exhaled.

His cock throbbed against his leg. He was getting hornier. His eyes fluttered open, but he felt better. He wasn’t in some blissful stupor like what he’d experienced at Adrian’s, but he felt better equipped to handle his own mind.

His left hand wandered away from the keyboard and slipped down into his pants. He massaged his cock through his underwear and moaned softly. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as he stroked himself. Was it really so bad to just surrender to his urges? to give in to his desires?

Adrian had shown him that no, it wasn’t bad at all. If anything, giving in was good. And so what if Adrian changed him? Adrian, he suspected, had given him the ability to study well and focus on his academics. Even if Adrian had planted a secret love of hypnosis in his head, was that really so bad?

For once in the weeks since he had last seen the hypnotist, he let himself remember how things had turned out at Adrian’s house. It had felt so good to just let go. It had felt so good to give himself entirely into someone else’s control.

Sure, it had been scary, but Adrian had done nothing to make Simon doubt his trust. And Adrian had gone out of his way to make Simon comfortable. All the conflict he had been feeling so far could simply be the result of him conditioning himself to the idea that he liked to be in control, to the notion that there was something terrifying about letting someone else take the reins.

And sure, there was definitely something to fear in that liminal space in between consciousness and unconsciousness, a definite potential for abuse, he knew that he was doing himself more harm than good by denying that this wasn’t something he wanted badly. He was being unnecessarily harsh on himself by refusing to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, he could enjoy the titillating sensation of total surrender.

Simon decided that he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t handle the anxiety. The denial. Thinking that every thought was planted in his head. He knew it would destroy him if he kept it up, so he just let it go. He let his right hand navigate to that private browsing session. He pulled it open. Hypnosis videos, MP3s, written inductions, they were now all at his fingertips, and all he could feel was excitement and arousal.

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Episode 6: How to Make Money Writing Erotica: Part Three

Wrapping up the three-part series on how to make money writing erotica, Cameron D. James takes a look at writing for your target audience.

If you would like to support this podcast, you can do so at patreon.com/sexformoneypodcast.

Posted: July 14, 2018
Length: 35:58 m
Size: 49.39 MB

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Tag-Teamed By My Dad And My Uncle

Andrew’s just turned twenty-one and he can legally drink. More exciting than that, though, is that he finally gets to find out just what goes on in his dad’s Man Cave in the basement. He and Uncle Robert spend so much time there and never allow Andrew to join them because, as his dad says, “You have to be twenty-one to enter.”

So with his birthday just passed and a case of beer in his hand, Andrew heads to the basement to finally join his dad and Uncle Robert in this most secretive of lairs. What he finds on the other side of the door, though, is a revelation more erotic than Andrew could have ever dreamed up.

To welcome Andrew to the Man Cave, his dad and uncle seduce him and show him just how amazing sex between men — sex between family — can be.

Tag-Teamed By My Dad And My Uncle is a 4,000-word short story.

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Excerpt

I pull into my driveway with a case of beer sitting in the passenger seat. I turned twenty-one yesterday and, to celebrate, my dad sent me out to buy beer. But to make it extra special, he invited me to hang out in his Man Cave with him and my uncle.

My heart thuds with anticipation as I turn off the car, grab the beer, and head to the house. Though dad had this Man Cave my whole life, I was never allowed to hang out in it. “This is a twenty-one and over room,” dad would always say.

I’ve seen glimpses of it now and then — wood panelling, a big TV and sound system, a leather couch, sports memorabilia, a pool table — but when dad wasn’t in there, he locked the door. I couldn’t even sate my curiosity by sneaking in when he was out of the house.

He’d always hang out in his Man Cave for hours on end with his brother, my Uncle Robert, and no one would be allowed to join them. Mom would always chuckle and say something like, “Boys will be boys,” and never question what happened in the Man Cave.

But I was always intensely curious. I was dying to know what went on in there, what they talked about, what they did — and now is my chance to finally find out. As I walk up the steps, I notice Uncle Robert’s car parked on the street. He must already be here, hanging out with dad in the mysterious Man Cave.

I enter the house and kick off my shoes. My mom gives me a smile as she heads out the door and says, “Have a good time with the big boys.”

As I descend the stairs with the case of beer in my hand, my heart is thudding against my ribs. I’m suddenly very nervous about what I’ll find on the other side of the door. As I reach the bottom of the stairs and approach the door, I can see a light coming from the crack beneath the door and I can hear some muffled noises, but I can’t make anything out.

I knock.

“That you, Andrew?” dad calls from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, dad. I brought the beer.”

“Come on in. Door’s open.”

I turn the knob, open the door, and walk in. I see the back of dad’s head as he’s sitting on the couch in front of me. The room is all in dark tones and there’s some soft music playing through the stereo system. Sports posters line the walls and shelves hold things like autographed sports balls and framed photos of dad and Uncle Robert on fishing trips.

“Where’s Uncle Robert?” I ask as I close the door behind me.

“He’s right here, son,” dad says, not turning to look back at me.

I walk around the couch and find Uncle Robert on his knees, sucking off dad. My jaw drops and the beer almost slips from my hand, but I tighten my grip before dropping the case. Uncle Robert glances at me, never taking dad’s thick cock from his mouth, and winks.

“What the fuck is going on?” I manage to say when I pull my wits about me to speak again.

“Have a seat, son,” dad says, and pats the couch next to him.

Not even knowing what I should do or how I should react, I slowly sit down next to him, watching his brother continue to suck him off. I watch in awe as this continues in front of me.

“Pass me a beer,” dad says, casually, as if he was just watching a football game.

Still not taking my eyes off dad’s cock and my uncle going down on it, I rip open the top of the box and pull out a can for dad. I pass it to him, he pops the top, and he takes a deep swallow.

“Does this…” I say, but then pause as I try to figure out what I want to ask. “Is this what you guys always do down here?”

“Not usually,” dad says. I don’t know if I should feel relieved or disappointed. I’ve been thinking more and more about guys and less about girls, and I’m innately drawn to the kinky. It was sort of hot thinking of this brotherly incestuous action going on in the house all the time. “Usually I’m balls-deep in your uncle’s ass.”

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Hypnotizing The Straight Hunk

When Jack comes to Coach Peters to talk about performance anxiety on the football field, Coach thinks there’s more than meets the eye. Specifically, he’s pretty certain that Jack is a closeted gay guy, battling with himself, and that’s holding him back in sports. Coach proposes a wild idea — hypnotism — as a way to relax and work past mental barriers. As soon as Jack is under, though, Coach’s devious libido takes over. Instead of working Jack through some relaxation exercises, he instead unlocks Jack’s closet door, letting the hunk’s wild gay lusts run free. What follows is a one-on-one session that Coach will never forget.

Hypnotizing The Straight Hunk is a 3,300-word short story.

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Excerpt

“Have you ever considered hypnotism?” I ask.

Jack, my star athlete, is laid out on the couch in my office. Even though I’m his football coach and not a psychologist, we’ve been meeting regularly to talk about the apparent lack of motivation he’d been feeling about the sport lately. Back when I was a high school gym teacher, I doubled as the school’s guidance counsellor — and those skills were coming in handy here at my new college position.

It had become clear to us pretty quickly that this wasn’t a matter of exam stress or some other temporary issue for Jack, but rather some deep-seated issue that was now surfacing.

Jack looks at me, eyes curious. “Would that help?”

“It can,” I answer. “Hypnotism can relax you and unlock any mental barriers you’ve got erected in your head.”

“And you can do this?” he asks. He sounds eager.

“It’s been a while, but yeah.” What I leave out is that I’ve never done hypnosis for therapeutic purposes. Back during my own years as a college student, I made some money as a magician for parties. It was mostly sleight of hand at kids’ parties, but when the occasional adult party gig happened, I always included some hypnotism. You know, the usual stuff, cluck like a chicken, bark like a dog.

“Okay,” Jack says. “Let’s do this. Put me under.”

“All right — lie back and get comfortable. Close your eyes.”

Jack does what I instruct and settles down. The leather couch groans softly under his bulk. Now that his eyes are closed, I take my chance to look at his magnificent body. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, nothing is left to the imagination. His arms and chest are big and bulky, his waist tapers and narrows, and he has a large bulge nestled between his thick thighs. My heart does a little pitter-patter and I feel my cock start to thicken.

I shove those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand. Hypnotism.

“Listen to the sound of my voice,” I say, in soft and gentle tones. “My voice is the only thing you hear. My voice is the only thing that matters. My voice makes you calm. My voice makes you relaxed.” Jack lets out a sigh of comfort and seems to sink deeper into the couch. “As you focus on my voice, everything else falls away. Everything else disappears. All that’s left is my voice. My voice is the only thing you hear. My voice is the only thing that matters. When I count to three, you will feel totally and completely relaxed. You will respond only when I instruct you to. You will no longer be aware of your body. One. Two. Three.”

Right on cue, Jack lets out a long, slow sigh and he seems to almost melt into the couch with how relaxed his body is. I wait several long moments before moving or saying anything further, just watching Jack and seeing if he’s truly under. His breathing is very slow and steady and his body seems entirely still — no involuntary twitches, no restlessness, no sign that he’s conscious of the moment.

My cock grows hard as I watch him. It’s been a very long time since I’ve lusted over a man and I find myself developing impulses right now that I can’t follow through on. I’m his coach and nearly twenty years his senior — I can’t make my move on him. Plus, he’s straight.

But the devious voice in the back of my mind reminded me that he’s under my spell right now … that a little touch wouldn’t be bad. I could feel him — gently — and then move on with the hypnotism to dig into his subconscious. And then I can go home and jerk off and pretend this didn’t happen.

No, I can’t.

But I want to.

And I will.

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Watching Gay Porn With Dad

When Billy helps his father out with some computer problems, he quickly discovers what got his dad into trouble in the first place — he had been on a spammy gay porn site. Taking a risk and outing himself in the process, Billy sends his father to a better site for gay porn, one free of ads. But as he turns to leave and hopes to forget that any of this ever happened, his father asks him to stay, to enjoy the porn with him…

Watching Gay Porn With My Dad is a 3,600-word short story.

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Excerpt

I turn down the music on my laptop and listen to the noises in the house. It’s just dad and me at home, and I’m sure I heard him swearing.

Instead, what I hear is something like an alert siren, but it sounds tinny, like it’s coming from computer speakers. I chuckle to myself and get to my feet, leaving my anthropology homework behind. Dad probably got some noisy pop-up ad that he’s having trouble closing. He’s not good with technology.

I wander through the house until I find him. He’s in his room, sitting on the bed, with his laptop across his knees. He looks up at me, startled, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Need help, dad?” I ask, and start crossing the room to him.

“No,” he says, shaking his head franticly. “I’ll figure it out!”

I almost stumble when I see why he doesn’t want my help. His shorts and briefs are partway down his thighs and his hard, thick cock is laying across his lap.

“Uh…” I say, not able to put together words. I take in the sight of it — thick, veiny, dark, hard. It’s far bigger than mine. When I finally pull my gaze away from dad’s cock, I see his cheeks burning bright with shame. I probably look as red as him.

The only sound in the room, which is only barely overcoming the incredibly loud thudding of my heart, is the irritating shrill coming from the pop-up ad. Dad and I stare at each other for far too long.

Finally, he turns the laptop toward me, not bothering to pull his shorts up. “Can you get rid of this fucking thing?”

I nod, then get on my knees next to the bed. Though I try to focus solely on the laptop, I can’t help but glance at dad’s dick, only inches from my face. I try closing the pop-up, which I’m sure dad had attempted, and I was caught in an endless cycle of warnings, forcing the ad to stay open. It took a few moments of fiddling, but I managed to finally close the ad.

With the ad gone, I could see what dad had been looking at.

I never should’ve come in here.

Gay porn filled the screen.

An older man is fucking a younger man, his thick cock completely buried in the younger man’s smooth ass. I glance again at dad’s cock and feel my cheeks burning hot with a blush. Then I look over to the other side of the bed, mom’s side.

“You okay, son?” dad asks. His voice has a little quiver to it, like he’s as nervous as I am right now.

I bite my lip, trying to figure out what to say. Should I tell him what I really want to tell him? Fuck it. I’ll just do it.

“Let me show you a better site for gay porn,” I finally say.

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Drinking My Dad’s Piss

Charlie lives at home. He’s not in school and he doesn’t have a job. The only thing he does all day is sit around in his boxers and play video games.

His father has had enough of this. He feels it’s time for Charlie to grow up and move out. What he sees, though, is Charlie holding onto his childhood. And the symbol for that childhood is that pathetic blanket he’s had since he was a boy.

The only way to sever that bond to Charlie’s childhood is to piss all over it. Charlie, though, will do anything to save his blanket and hold onto his innocence — he’ll even swallow down his father’s piss so the blanket stays clean.

Drinking My Dad’s Piss is a 4,100-word short story.

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Excerpt

Dad stumbles in. I lose focus on the game, then pause it.

He’s drunk. I can tell by the way he’s leaning on the wall next to the door.

“It’s 11:36 in the morning,” he says. “You’re still playing games?”

I put the controller down, but stay belly-down on the blanket to hide my erection. “I did all my chores.”

“Your chores? Fuck.” He takes a step forward, staggers, then plants himself in a firm fighter stance. “You ran that vacuum over the carpet so fast it just moved the fucking cat hair around.”

“There’s so much cat hair, Dad. I can’t help it that he sheds so much.”

Dad takes a step toward my bed. “If you did more than play those fucking games all day you’d take a look and see there’s more you can do to help here. Or maybe it’s time for a job.”

“Dad, I want to take the summer off. We agreed I could take a break before I decide what I’m doing. It’s a big decision.”

“It’s September! All you’re doing every time I come in here is sitting on that blanket, playing those fucking games. You’re not a kid anymore. Time to grow up.”

He takes another step toward me. Now he’s standing right at the edge of the bed. He’s wearing his ratty jeans and tight gray t-shirt. He always looks rough and dirty, and today there’s dirt and sweat in his forearm hairs from working in the garden.

Dad’s never hit me before, but when he gets upset like this I’ve always been uncomfortable. Not that he’d ever hit me. I just don’t like it when I know he’s not happy with me.

“I’m not ready to get a job yet,” I tell him. “I’m reflecting on my life. You know, like they say you should.” The urge to piss comes again, and I hump down by instinct.

Dad notices. I can tell by the way he frowns. “You’re too attached to that blanket,” he says. “Sitting here, lying in your bed, doing nothing, it’s like you’re still ten and life is all fun and games. Maybe if you get rid of that thing…”

The thought of getting rid of my blanket causes me panic. “I’ll do more chores. Even look for a job, if I have to.”

“No.” Dad comes forward some more, leaning his thighs against the edge of the bed now. “That blanket was cute when you were a kid. But now keeping it around is a reminder that you’ve failed to grow up.”

I’m thinking of something to say, but that all goes to shit when Dad’s hands go to the button on his jeans and then he zips down his fly.

“Dad,” I protest. Quick as that, he flips his underwear down and pops his cock out. It’s semi-stiff, a good five inch shaft of thick meat.

I’m still in shock trying to figure out what the fuck he’s doing when the yellow stream starts flowing from his dick. Yellow. He’s pissing! He’s got his cock in one hand and he’s aiming it right at my blanket.

“What the fuck!” I scramble over a bit, but not completely off my blanket. Piss splatters against it in front of me, forming a puddle at the edge.

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Hypnotizing The Straight Jock

Chad wants revenge on the homophobic bully at college and he devises the perfect way to carry it out. Richard, the bully, lives in the room next door in the college dorms — there’s just a wall between the two of them — and every night Chad pulls up a hypno file on his computer and presses the speakers against the wall. When Richard finally confronts him again and is about to do something violent, Chad utters one simple word that has Richard frozen and mindless — and with a second word, Richard turns into an insatiable bottom.

Hypnotizing the Straight Jock is a 3,700-word short story.

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Excerpt

“Come on,” Alex says, “let’s get out of here.”

I catch a strong hint of nervousness in my friend’s voice. I look across the change room to where he’s doing his best not to stare, but still being obvious about it.

Richard saunters into the locker area from the showers, naked except for the goggles around his neck and his skimpy Speedo. Richard is the resident bully here at college — the jock who thinks he’s better than everyone for the simple fact that he’s a jock.

And what a jock he is. Though I detest the man, I take in his glorious body. His pecs are defined, his arms are corded with muscle, his abs are tight like a washboard, his legs are powerful, and that ass … that ass is divine. But I force myself to tear my eyes away. Richard is also a raging homophobe — and he knows that Alex and I are gay.

I quickly drop my pants, doing my best to change into my swim gear as fast as Alex is doing, hopefully fast enough that we can escape before Richard has a chance to utter a single epithet in our direction.

“Have you ever wanted to get back at him?” I murmur at Alex.

“What?” He sounds confused. “How do you mean?”

“I’ve been working on something. You know Alex’s dorm is next to mine, right? His bed is on the other side of the wall between us. Well, when he’s sleeping, I’ve been pressing my computer speakers against the wall—”

“Hey! Faggots!” Richard shouts at us and immediately starts walking our way. His face is contorted with both anger at who we are and glee at the torture he plans to put us through. “Who let you cocksuckers in here?”

“Let’s just go,” Alex says, grabbing his pants to pull them on over his swim shorts.

“No,” I say. I keep my eyes on Richard as he approaches, but in my peripheral vision, I can see Alex hesitate, unsure if he should keep getting changed or follow along with me. “You got a problem with us, Richard?”

Alex lets out a gasp, seemingly stunned that I would confront the bully like this.

“Fucking right I’ve got a problem, fag. I don’t want you pussies getting boned up for me. You should just go fuck each other and stay away from the pool. Seeing you here makes me want to fucking mess you up.” Richard’s words are laced with that same mix of anger and glee.

I don’t think he would actually hit us or harm us. I think he just likes intimidating others and we’re easy targets for his fragile ego.

But this is it — this is the moment I test if my weeks of careful planning and work have been successful. I take a deep breath and wait until Richard comes within spitting distance. God, he’s a gorgeous man. Seeing him this naked and this close is causing all the blood to drain from my head and gather in my dick. I need to keep my wits about me.

“You got something you wanna say to me, fag?” Richard says.

“Checkerboard.”

Richard looks at me like I’m speaking Russian. Other than that, nothing changes. Fuck, did it not work? Did my weeks of planning result in nothing? My heart races as panic sets in. Alex was right, we should have just gotten dressed and left.

“What?” Richard says. And in that moment, it’s like my heart stops. Maybe my plan didn’t fail. Maybe he honestly didn’t hear the trigger word.

“Checkerboard,” I say again, louder.

And a heartbeat later, it’s like a light flicks off in Richard’s head. The anger evaporates and so, too, does his intelligence. His eyes look vacant and all muscle tension seems to disappear from his body.

I poke him in the middle of the forehead, but nothing happens. He doesn’t react.

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Taking My Dad’s Hot Load

Colin is alone in his room and ready to jerk off to his favorite porn videos. Little does he realize, his dad has an important lesson to teach him about better ways he can pleasure himself. Colin has never thought of himself as gay or remotely interested in his dad, but when the offer is on, the thought of dad’s hot load on shooting on his chest is enough to make him cross the line into forbidden territory.

Taking My Dad’s Hot Load is a 4,500-word short story.

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Excerpt

I love coming, especially the moment before I know I’m gonna shoot it all over myself. I love the way it’s hot as it hits me and my cock tingles with every spurt. Stroking myself now and feeling the pleasure stir, I’m already excited about doing it again.

I pull my boxers down a little, enough to free my cock and wrap my hand around it. I click to another video of a guy banging a girl bent over on hands and knees. This is one of my favorites. I fast forward to 12:34, when he moans and then pulls out, beating off and blasting his load all over her pussy.

I’m kind of grossed out by pussy, but it doesn’t matter. When I see all that hot cum shooting from a stiff cock I get so excited about doing it myself. The guy in the video groans as his load finishes off and now I’ve got my boxers slipped right down to my thighs. I’m stroking my cock with a tight fist and it’s getting darker red.

I get into the rhythm of it, groaning as the pleasure builds, clicking to different feeds. My cock is turning beet red and I’m gonna blow my load, but I hold it back a bit, drawing out the sensations more and more.

The vacuum stops. The low audio sounds twice as loud and I notice how cold the air in the room is on my bare torso.

I’m so close. I’m not stopping. Fuck it, Dad never comes into my room anyway.

I click back on the video of the guy coming on the girl’s pussy, then jerk fast and hard. I fixate on his dick, the way it pumps all the juice out, the way the cum drips down her thighs, the way the guy’s butt is strong and full of hair. Oh God, yeah, I’m gonna shoot my load now. Fuck, it’s gonna shoot so hard and feel so good. Ohhh…

“What’s going on?” Dad’s voice, from behind me.

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Seduced By My Ex-Con Father

The last time Jason saw his father was when his father was being sentenced to jail. Now, eight years later, Jason is an adult and his father is home — and neither one really knows who the other person is anymore. What Jason does know, though, is that he hates this man who he once called “dad”.

But in a brief moment when his dad tries to connect with Jason as an adult, his dad takes a risk and makes a move on Jason. He shows his son the most important thing he learned while in jail all those years — how men make love.

Seduced By My Ex-Con Father is a 3,600-word short story.

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Excerpt

As I close the bathroom door and strip everything off, my mind is consumed with conflicted thoughts and emotions. Maybe a hot shower and going to bed early will calm my mind, and a good night’s rest will have me thinking clearer tomorrow.

I hear some footsteps going down the hall and I stare at the door, knowing who’s wandering around the second floor. With mom out at a movie with my aunt, those footsteps belong to my dad.

My dad … the ex-con.

Last time I saw him, I was ten. That was eight years ago. I don’t know him as an adult — and he doesn’t know me as an adult, either, I guess. To him, I was a little kid when he left. Right now, we’re strangers to each other.

I turn on the water and the bathroom starts to fill with steam. Again, I hear dad’s footsteps walking down the hall. I do my best to ignore the noise — to ignore him — and I step into the shower. I soap up and start scrubbing my athletic body and my long dick. I can’t help but think of my girlfriend right now — she loves my dick. It gets to places that no other man has reached in her. I start stroking, using the soap as lube to make it nice and slippery.

Just as I let out a soft moan of pleasure, I hear the bathroom door being opened and then the taps being turned on.

“Um … the bathroom is occupied,” I say. I don’t even bother to hide my annoyance.

The taps turn off. “Oh, right,” dad says. “Sorry … sorry. I’ve spent eight years in a place with no privacy.”

I sigh, but I try to keep it silent and just wait for him to go away. But he doesn’t.

I pull the curtain aside so I can glare at him. “Privacy. Please.” He’s shirtless, giving me a view of his muscular chest and colorful collection of tattoos. All he has on is a pair of loose sweatpants.

Dad looks at me with hurt eyes, but then his gaze travels south. I keep glaring at him, but then realize his sight is locked on something. I look down. Fuck — my long cock is sticking out from the side of the shower curtain. I quickly adjust the curtain so I’m covered again.

Then dad looks up at my face. “You know, son, I learned something in prison. Something I never thought I’d want to know. It changed my life.”

I sigh and still don’t bother to hide my annoyance. I realize dad is looking to connect with me, to bond as father and son, but this is the wrong time and the wrong place. He doesn’t move, so I take the bait and ask, “What was that?”

Dad comes closer and sits on the toilet next to the shower. He pulls aside the shower curtain, exposing my cock. “That sex between men is natural. And it feels good.”

Before I can protest and call him a pervert and throw him out of the bathroom, he latches his mouth onto my cock. And in that instant, his oral grip is far better than that of my girlfriend. My knees quiver and almost give out as dad slides his lips up my shaft, taking my cock deeper than anyone has ever done before. He ripples his tongue on the underside of my meat, sending quivers of pleasure through to my balls.

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