Category: Sandra Claire

The President And The Rentboy

Newly inaugurated as the President of the United States of America, Daniel Grant has a secret. Despite winning a surprise upset election, built on a campaign filled with raucous rallies and an oft-repeated promise to deport illegal immigrants, Daniel is unhappy. While the media loves to speculate about him and his trophy wife, Melanie, the truth is there is no love in their relationship — moreover, as time goes on, Daniel is coming to understand that he prefers men. Itching for some sexual release, a senator discreetly hands him a phone number for Ricky — a rentboy.

Each sexy encounter with this seductive younger man leaves Daniel panting for more. But while his private sex life amps up, so, too, does his public political life, including increasing pressures from his vice-president to deport all illegal immigrants and bring about religious freedom laws so business can discriminate against LGBT customers.

Daniel struggles to balance his personal and public lives, to somehow continue seeing Ricky, despite the intense media scrutiny of everything the president does. Forbidden love is never easy, but it becomes near impossible when Daniel learns that Ricky, the young man he loves and desires so much, is an illegal immigrant from Mexico.

The President And The Rentboy is a 20,000-word novella.

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Excerpt

The twink — Ricky — came in. Brad closed the door, leaving just me and the young man in the room.

“I recognize you...” Ricky said, trailing off. My blood suddenly ran cold, but then he added, “But I can’t place it.”

I almost wondered if he was playing me. I was on the news almost every day — I was a huge celebrity — how could someone not know who I was? I eyed him up and down, my gaze lingering just a little too long on his bulge. He didn’t strike me as the type that watched the news, but, still, I was easily the most recognizable person in the United States.

“I hope you’ll understand if I don’t make the connection for you.”

Ricky nodded. No doubt, he had done this before. Ricky was a rentboy — a prostitute — who specialized in catering to the needs of men in positions of great power, men who could be brought down by the mere mention of a gay sex scandal. I didn’t know all of Ricky’s clients, didn’t know if I even wanted that knowledge, but a senator had passed his name and number to me when he had figured out what I was yearning for. That senator said he didn’t use Ricky anymore, but had very fond memories of him.

“Yeah, I understand. You have a first name, though? Something I can moan in the throes of passion?” He unzipped his jacket, revealing a tight red shirt underneath — it hugged his slender frame and emphasized his pecs.

My mind tumbled in panic. If I gave him my name, he’d know who I was, and that would be the first step to the end of everything. But the rational part of my mind broke through — Ricky had signed a nondisclosure agreement and came highly recommended by a man who had almost as much to lose as me.

“Dan,” I finally said, voice barely more than a whisper. Few people called me Dan, most preferring my full name, Daniel. It felt right, though, that I would give Ricky a more intimate form of my name.

Ricky arched his eyebrow again and he looked me up and down. He still seemed to be struggling to make the connection of who I was. Eventually, he seemed to give up. Shrugging the jacket off his shoulders, he tossed it onto a nearby chair.

With the jacket off, he seemed even slimmer and younger. The shirt clung tightly to him, leaving nothing to the imagination, but still somehow making him even more tantalizing. The bottom of the shirt seemed to end a half-inch before the top of his jeans, giving me a glimpse of the rich brown skin of his Latin heritage. And his jeans hugged him as tightly as his shirt — I could almost see the outline of his bulge. When he noticed me looking him over, he did a little circle for me, giving me a glimpse of his astounding ass. It looked round and firm, filling out his jeans perfectly. I couldn’t wait to slide my tongue between those cheeks, to make him wet before I pushed my cock in there.

I stood up and crossed the room to him. He was a good six inches shorter than me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and shove my tongue down his throat, to grope him and make him moan, but I was suddenly overcome by nervousness. If only the public could see me now — not only for the supposed moral depravity of the situation, but for my sudden meekness. I wasn’t known as a weak-willed man.

Instead, I walked in a slow circle around Ricky. I could smell him — clean with a hint of scented soap. He was a feast for every sense so far — but I still had to know how he tasted and how his skin felt against mine. Fuck, I was straining in my briefs.

When I came around to the front of him again, he looked up at me through his long eyelashes.

“You like what you see, Dan?”

“I do,” I said, feeling a little more confident. “You’re gorgeous, Ricky.”

He was young, too, but I’d had Brad double-check the kid’s ID. He was in his early twenties, just like he’d said — but with me more than double his age, he just seemed even younger, making this all the more illicit.

“Don’t you want to...” he paused to tilt his head back and lick his lips, making his mouth seem plump and moist, and exposing the length of his slender neck, “kiss me?”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I put one hand behind his head and the other at the small of his back and pressed my lips against his. He kissed me back hungrily and soon our mouths were open and my tongue was brushing against his. Ricky seemed to melt in my hands as he pressed against my body, succumbing entirely to me and my will. I slid my hand down the back of his tight pants, groping his bare ass cheeks. They were smooth — exactly as I expected of him.

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Erotic Love and Carnal Sins: Confessions of a Priest

Father Peter has devoted his life to the Roman Catholic Church — but not entirely because he is a man of God.  For him, a life of chastity and piety is the perfect place for a closeted gay man to hide from himself.

Try as he might to live a pure life, his forbidden desires chip away at him, leading him on a path of carnal sins that starts with a simple, anonymous, and discreet online encounter.  But that supposed anonymous encounter, with a man just as closeted as Peter, takes an uncomfortable turn when that same man shows up in confessional, wanting to talk with Peter in person.

Unable to lie to himself any longer, and suddenly willing to risk his entire career and life, Peter does the one thing he never dreamed he’d be able to do — he reaches out and touches another man.  He can’t take back what he’s done and can’t pretend it didn’t happen, so that leaves Peter with only one option, to move forward and experience the erotic pleasures found only in the act of gay sex.

Erotic Love & Carnal Sins: Confessions of a Priest is a 29,000-word novella.

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Excerpt

I was about to shut off my computer and forget the whole thing, but then the screen flickered and Mark’s webcam feed showed up. And he was naked. And he was exactly as I’d pictured him. At least, his body was — like me, he wasn’t showing his face.

My fear dissipated when it finally sunk in that I was doing this, that this was real, that Mark was naked and already hard and that he couldn’t possibly be a violent homophobe.

I waved my hand awkwardly. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Mark said, his voice sounding deep and masculine, though slightly tinny through my crappy speakers.

“It’s good to finally, well, see you, I guess,” I said. I was so nervous and at a total loss for what to say.

“Yeah,” Mark said. There was tension straining his voice. I could tell he was just as nervous about this whole thing as I was. He had told me he’d never been with a man before — never even shown himself on webcam, either. This was as much a first for him as it was for me.

I leaned back in my leather office chair, still making sure the webcam feed ended at my neck. I ran my hands down from my chest, over my nipples, across my stomach, and ending at the root of my cock. This seemed to have an effect on Mark — he grabbed his dick and started fondling it, holding his heavy balls in one hand and lightly stroking his shaft with the other.

I mirrored his movements, touching myself in the same manner. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before — being single and in my thirties meant I’d done more than my share of masturbation — but it felt much more ... erotic now than it had ever felt before. The difference this time was that I had an audience — a man who was as turned on by my body as I was by his.

My tumescent cock solidified, growing harder and longer. The head of my cock shone as the skin stretched.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Mark said, his voice sounding deep and husky. He was growing as thick and hard as me. “So much hotter than I imagined.”

“Mmm ... you, too.” I flicked my thumb over the head of my cock, spreading the pearl of precum that had gathered there, making my the crown of my cock wet.

Mark was everything I was drawn to in a man — masculine and thick. His chest had the developed pecs of a man who worked out when he was younger and his chest and torso were broad, but trim. His nipples poked through his thin layer of chest hair, beckoning to me and my mouth. I’d never touched another man, never held one, never kissed one, never licked one. Yet, I had an overwhelming desire to suck those dark nubs and then nibble on them, make them diamond-hard while I stroked his dick — or, even better, as I rode his cock, shoved deep into my ass, my hole stretched to accommodate its girth.

A tremble ran through me as orgasm almost threatened to overtake me. I snapped out of my fantasy and stopped jacking, tensing my core muscles, fighting back against the oncoming eruption. When the sensation abated, I looked back at the screen and at Mark. He was stroking quickly and dripping precum, glistening trails running down his shaft and making his fist wet. The light in his room reflected off his slick cock, illuminating it like some holy relic. My mouth watered again as I thought of getting on my knees between his legs and licking up and down his shaft, lapping up the precum and stimulating his dick with my tongue and mouth. And then I’d open my lips and take him in me, swallowing him down to the root, stimulating and pleasuring his cock until he exploded in my mouth, painting my tongue with his cum and filling me so quick that my only option was to swallow it all down.

“Fuck,” I moaned and threw my head back, still stroking my length and fondling my balls. My imagination alone was enough to get me off — and the fact that I was fantasizing over an actual person that was into me, too, and not some random porn star only shifted my erotic imagination into overdrive.

I looked at the screen again. Mark was pumping his fist furiously, turning into a blur over the low-quality video feed. Fuck, he was long and thick — I wished I could get that in my ass, that I could sit on him and sink down until he was totally and completely buried in me. I’d never taken a cock before, but I somehow knew I would love having that one inside me.

I felt another surge of pleasure in my dick — and this time I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m gonna cum,” I said, my words catching in a gasp as my orgasm mounted.

“Do it,” Mark said. “Fucking blow your cum for me.”

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My Black Master: Gay Erotica Bundle

This hot and sweaty bundle collects all five of Sandra Claire’s gay prison erotica stories. Each throbbing volume follows the journey of Adam as he submits, obeys, and comes to depend entirely on Tyrone, his black master.

Included in this volume are:

SUBMITTING TO MY BLACK MASTER: It’s Adam’s first day in prison and he has Tyrone, a terrifying and sexy black Dom, as his cellmate!
PLEASING MY BLACK MASTER: Adam has happily been Tyrone’s submissive for the past week, an arrangement that’s kept him sexually satisfied and physically safe in his new life in prison. Today, though, he’s lusting for some of the other men he’s seen in the showers.
MY BLACK MASTER PROTECTOR: Not everyone in prison is happy with Adam submitting to Tyrone. Paco, one of the most dangerous men in prison, is determined to steal Adam and make him his own!
SHARED BY MY BLACK MASTER: To prepare for Adam’s upcoming release from prison, his Master has a new erotic task for him.
LUSTING FOR MY BLACK MASTER: Adam’s Master is finally released from prison, but the first thing Master asks is the question Adam doesn’t want to answer: “Did you behave while we were apart?”

WARNING: This 32,000-word short story collection contains several explicit sex scenes between a submissive twink and dominating, powerful, older men, that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

A heavy set of footsteps echoed up the range, coming our way. I looked at the cell door and saw a portly guard walk by, looking in our cell to ensure Tyrone and I were both inside. I made eye contact with the guard and he gave me a look of pity, a look that told me he knew I wouldn’t last long, and then he continued on, checking the rest of the cells. Ten minutes later, the lights went out in all the cells, leaving only a dim illumination from the corridor.

My heart pounded in my chest and I knew my eyes were bug-eyed. I tried to still my breathing to calm my entire body, so that I could listen for any movements below me. Would he do it tonight? After what felt like half an hour of total silence and stillness, my heart calmed and my eyes drifted closed. Maybe I would be okay.

Then I heard the rustle of fabric from the bed beneath me. I strained to hear any further sounds, but it was silent. Okay, he just rolled over.

I jerked and gasped when a hand landed over my mouth.

“Don’t scream, white boy.” Tyrone’s voice was low and harsh in my ear. “Now get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He released his hand from my face and I didn’t scream — I was too terrified to do so. I shuffled to the edge of the bunk and hopped down, but in my nervousness, I stumbled and fell to my knees in front of him. Something heavy and warm slapped my forehead.

Oh, God, it was his cock. And it was fucking huge!

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Lusting For My Black Master

Adam is out of prison, but his Master is not, and the sexual frustration is driving Adam wild. Nobody can do what Master does to him — nobody can even come close — yet that doesn’t stop Adam from going on a desperate search to find what he needs. But when Master gets out of prison early, and Adam can finally be with him, Master asks him the one question he doesn’t want to answer: “Did you behave while we were apart?”

Lusting For My Black Master picks up after the events of Shared By My Black Master, and is the final entry in the My Black Master series.

WARNING: This 7,000-word short story contains several explicit sex scenes between a submissive twink and dominating, powerful, older men, that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

I gasped and rocketed back into the waking world. The blanket tangled around me, restricting me, confining me, trapping me. I threw it on the floor and sat there, chest heaving with gasping breaths. The sweat coating my skin chilled in the cool air of the apartment.

The apartment. I was no longer in prison. I had to keep reminding myself that.

For most people, I’m sure they had bad memories of prison and they were glad to be free of it. For me, it was the opposite. Prison was where I found myself, where I discovered that, at heart, I am a submissive gay bottom who lives to serve a dominant black master.

Master. Tyrone. I missed him badly. I’d only been out for a couple weeks, but every day felt like a month. It felt like I’d been separated from Master for years already.

“Adam?”

I turned on the lamp behind my head. In the weak light, I could make out the shadows of the living room of John’s apartment. He stood in the doorway, wearing only a pair of boxers. He was a little pudgy and quite hairy — he had an attractive older daddy look to him that often made me horny.

I had been sleeping on John’s couch. John had been the first person I met in prison — a kind, older man, he had originally felt sorry for me sharing a cell with Tyron, because all previous cellmates of Tyrone’s had been rushed to the hospital with anal trauma. I was the first one that could not only take Master’s giant dick, but also the first one who seemed to truly enjoy it.

Master had commanded me to submit to John while I waited for Master to be released from prison. That commandment had also included submitting to John sexually. While sex with John was enjoyable, he was no match for Master. No one was. No one ever could be.

“I’m okay,” I said. Although John could never match the sexual energy of Master, he had a seductive masculinity that I suddenly felt a burning need to have inside me. I let my gaze trail down his dad-belly and settle on the bulge in his boxers. I felt my cock stirring in my briefs, growing thick as I thought about John’s meat. “But ... maybe sucking on a cock will help me get back to sleep.”

John smiled lasciviously, then groped his bulge as he crossed the room toward me. I propped myself up on my hands and knees on the couch, my mouth at the perfect height for his incoming cock. He stood in front of me and ran his fingers through my hair, still groping himself with his other hand.

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Shared By My Black Master

Adam’s time in prison is almost over and he doesn’t know what he’ll do without his Master by his side. While Master will soon be out of jail, too, it won’t be for several months later, a very long time to be without his Master. However, Master has a plan to keep Adam under control and fully submissive while they are apart, a plan that includes sharing Adam with a new, temporary Master. To prove this plan will work, Adam must submit sexually to his new stand-in Master — something he’s unsure of, at first, but something he very quickly realizes will open new worlds of erotic pleasure.

Shared By My Black Master picks up after the events of My Black Master Protector.

WARNING: This 6,000-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a submissive twink and two dominating men that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

I blinked several times to clear the thoughts of John and I from my mind. “Sorry, Sir. I was just thinking of tonight. I hope that what I do with John will please you, Sir.”

A grin grew and spread across Master’s lips. He was so handsome when he was happy. It occurred to me then that it was almost time for John to come to our cell and have his way with me.

“Good,” he said. “John’s a good guy, so I’m sure you’ll do fine with him. It’s also clear he cares deeply for you as a friend.”

“Sir...” I said, as thoughts started to come to me, “what are the limits on what John can do with me? Or are there no limits?”

“No limits, kid. John has complete and total control over you — but only when I tell him he has it.”

I marvelled at the power that Master had. It seemed that through the process of arranging this, he had pulled John under his control. Yes, John could do whatever he wanted with me, but only when Master allowed it. John seemed to be one step away from being a sub alongside myself. I think the only thing that prevented that from happening was that I doubted Master had any sexual interest in John. In fact, that may be why Master arranged this — since he saw no attractiveness in John, he didn’t consider John a serious threat to the Master/sub relationship that we had. I doubted Master would’ve arranged this with a younger, more attractive man to be my stand-in Master.

The soft shuffle of feet drew my attention to the door of our cell. The range was unnaturally quiet this evening — I bet Master had something to do with that — so the almost imperceptible sound of John’s footsteps was surprisingly loud.

John walked in with his hands in his pockets and his gaze downcast. When he came to a stop, he looked up at us rather shyly.

Master stood up and walked over to John, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Given the harsh tone, it sounded like instructions. I could’ve sworn I heard the words “be confident.” John nodded and Master looked back at me.

“I’ll be back in half an hour. I’ll ensure you have complete privacy until then. Do me proud, kid,” Master said. He had a big grin on his face. It seemed he wasn’t concerned in the slightest of how this might go wrong — I would do my best to live up to his expectations.

“I will, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” I watched him walk out of the cell, leaving John and I alone. My heart was pounding against my ribs. I was ... nervous. But I was also turned on, as evidenced by my aching erection.

John looked at me. He seemed a bit more confident, a little less intimidated. Still, he didn’t move and didn’t say anything. Perhaps he needed me to get us started.

“How can I please you, Sir?” I asked, giving him my best submissive look.

He jerked, almost as if he had been startled, but then he relaxed and began to smile. “You can start by getting naked,” he said. There was a slight tremor in his voice — while he now looked like he was ready to be in command, he sounded like he was still struggling with the idea.

“Yes, Sir,” I said. I stood up and quickly took off my shirt, shoes, socks, pants, and underwear. I was fully naked, gaze directed at his feet, my cock rock hard and dripping, pointing straight out in front of me. I stood there, quiet and motionless, waiting for my next command.

Slowly, John came closer to me. He circled me, looking at me from all sides, but still didn’t touch me.

“I have to tell you something, sub,” he said. I liked his use of the word “sub,” as it helped cement our newfound relationship. “I’m a little ... inexperienced and out of practice. I think I can dominate you, but I’ve never actually done it to a person. And as for gay sex ... well, it’s been quite a few years.”

“That’s okay, Sir,” I said. “Master says I follow orders well, so I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”

“Good, good...” John said, trailing off. Though he was my stand-in Master, I still couldn’t mentally think of him as my Master, but only as John. To me, my real Master would be my one and only Master.

John circled around me again. He brought his hands close to me, but still didn’t touch me. He wanted to, I knew, but something was holding him back. Perhaps it was nervousness, fear that this would all come to a screeching halt. But I was desperate for him to touch me — the tension in the room was driving me wild, making my cock ache even more.

“Touch me, Sir,” I begged, “please.” It was something I could never request of Master — he had to be the one in total control — but I had a feeling John was a little different.

And just like that, he put his hands on me. One hand trailed down my slim chest and my tight abdomen and the other hand cupped my balls. I let out a heavy sigh of pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you, kid?” John said, in a tone of voice very much like Master’s.

“Yes, Sir.” I trembled under his touch. As he fondled my balls, electric sparks of pleasure shot through me.

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My Black Master Protector

Adam has been Tyrone’s sub for a couple months now, and with every passing day, he’s living more and more into his submissive role. His Master provides him with everything he needs and gives him sexual pleasures Adam never thought possible. It’s certainly helping him survive jail. But not everyone is happy with the arrangement. Paco, one of the most dangerous men in prison, is determined to take Tyrone down a notch or two — and he plans to do that by claiming Adam as his. A violent confrontation turns into a struggle for domination over Adam and it’s complicated by a realization Adam recently had… that Tyrone, his Master, is falling in love with him.

Protected By My Black Master picks up after the events of Pleasing My Black Master.

Warning, this 8,300-word short story contains explicit sex scenes between a submissive twink and a dominating alpha male that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

We had just come back from the showers and my skin was still wet, making me feel chilly in the cool air of the prison cell. My skinny twink body didn’t hold much heat — especially since I was hairless and completely naked. I spread my legs about shoulder-width apart and placed my hands on the frame of the upper bunk, then took a deep breath.

I felt Master’s hands on me a second later. It was our regular morning inspection. He wanted to be sure that I — his submissive, his property — was clean, intact, and ready for sex at any given moment. His skin was rough, his fingertips calloused, but there were no other hands I wanted on my body.

The way he ran his hands up and down my back and sides, the way he pinched my nipples, cupped my balls, pressed his finger against my hole, gripped my dick ... it made me feel like I was completely and totally his possession. I lived to serve my Master and it made me pleased when he was happy with me. More than that, it made me horny when I knew Master liked what he saw. Already, my dick was swelling and growing hard, pointing straight out in front of me.

Master came closer to me, pressed his body against mine, and I felt his fat cock nestle in the crack of my ass. He felt massive, making me wonder, yet again, how I managed to take that sausage deep inside me every day. His skin was hotter than mine, warming me as he pressed his muscular chest against my slender back. His dark-skinned hands travelled up my chest and to my neck, and then he curved a couple fingers around my chin so they poked in my mouth.

I closed my lips around his fingers, suckling on them like they were a couple of cocks. It was nowhere near as good as the real thing, but just having any part of Master inside me, even simply his fingers, made me feel good.

He slipped his fingers out of my mouth and he gripped my shoulders, then suddenly spun me around. I almost lost my balance as I turned to face him, but his strong grip kept me standing upright. I looked up at him, into his dark and deep eyes, but while I saw a hint of emotion there — perhaps, love? No, not love — I also saw dominance. I was not to be making eye contact with Master. I quickly cast my gaze downward, looking instead at the scar that slid across his pec.

“You’re looking good, boy,” he said, his words barely more than a whisper.

“Thank you, Sir,” I said. It was an automatic reply, one that slipped out of my mouth without even having to think about it, but it was still one I felt deeply. I served my Master and I was grateful for it.

He pushed me down to the floor and I fell hard onto my knees. I managed to hold back a yelp at the sudden burst of pain — Master would not appreciate me making noise. I stabilized myself and waited for him to make the next move. His cock hung in front of my face. It was huge — thick and long — and my mouth was almost watering as I waited for the opportunity to taste it. But I couldn’t take that initiative. Yes, I knew I’d be sucking that meat soon, but I had to wait until Master gave me the privilege to do so.

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Pleasing My Black Master

Adam has been in prison for one week—and he’s been Tyrone’s submissive the entire time. But that week of submitting to this dominant man has awoken something deep inside Adam, a desire he never knew he had, a driving need to service as many men as possible. He’s seen the other men in the showers, knows what they’re packing, and he craves what he sees. Adam wants to live into his newfound urge for gay sex with as many men as possible. The only problem is that Tyrone would never allow it. Tyrone has always made it clear—Adam is his and his alone. But Adam no longer accepts that.

Pleasing My Black Master picks up after the events of Submitting to My Black Master.

WARNING: This 6,700-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a skinny white guy and several dominating men that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

“Good morning, white boy,” Tyrone whispered into my ear. He pressed a finger against my hole, testing its resistance. “You’re tight this morning, sub.”

With how tense my body was, I knew he wouldn’t be able to fit his massive dick into my ass — and I wasn’t about to loosen up. This would be the first time since coming here that I wouldn’t be able to give him sex when he demanded it.

“Tyrone,” I said, but before I could continue or roll over to look at him, he grabbed my ass hard and pressed his finger harder against my tight hole, slowly pushing past my resistance.

“I told you to call me ‘Sir.’ Don’t make me remind you.” His words were harsh and sharp, underscoring the threat implied by his tight grip on my ass.

“Sir...” I began again, accommodating his order, even if just for the moment. “We need to talk.”

Tyrone’s other arm, which had been folded under the pillow beneath our heads, quickly moved and his calloused hand grabbed the front of my throat — not dangerously, but with enough pressure to reassert his dominance.

“We don’t talk, boy. What happens is you shut the fuck up and enjoy my cock pounding your tight man-cunt. Got it?” I felt a spray of spittle across my cheek as he bit off his words.

“No,” I said. I grabbed the hand clasped around my throat and tugged at it — he resisted, but eventually let me pull it off. Despite all of Tyrone’s violent dominance, I knew there was a kind and decent man hidden under all the layers of bluster. But I would never tell anyone about that, because he’d surely kill me or at least leave me wishing that he’d kill me. He might have a soft center, but it didn’t mean he was a pushover.

I rolled over so I could look him in the eye, something I rarely did as his submissive. I saw defiance in his gaze, like he was about to rebuff anything I said and put me back in my place. But I also saw a small amount of fear there, like he knew what was coming and couldn’t find it in him to stop me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was starting to develop deeper feelings for me — but Tyrone didn’t do relationships, he just did sex.

“I’m no longer your submissive,” I said, deciding to just blurt it out.

“Yes, you are. Only I decide when this arrangement ends,” he said. He grabbed my cock, holding tight. I could see through his bluster; he was already hurting. It wasn’t obvious; most people wouldn’t be able to see it, but then, most people weren’t as close to Tyrone as I was.

“No, Tyrone,” I said, choosing to use his name again, instead of calling him “Sir.” I hoped it drove my point home. “I’m moving on. I will always show respect and deference to you, especially in public, but I’m moving on.”

“Why?” he asked. His grip on my cock loosened and his voice wavered on his one-word question.

I decided to be honest. “I want to have sex with other people. You’re an amazing fuck, but you’re also my first gay fuck. I’ve been eyeing the guys in the showers and I get so horny imagining what it would be like to suck them off or bottom for them. It’s not that I’ll never have sex with you again, but I just can’t be exclusive to you anymore.”

There was sadness in his eyes, but, if I was reading him right, I also saw acceptance. He let go of my cock and took his hand back. “Fine,” he said. “But don’t expect any protection from me. If someone beats you to a bloody pulp — if someone kills you — don’t expect me to stop him.”

The lights in the cell and in the rest of the facility flickered on to full brightness. In a few moments the cell door would unlock and slide open, allowing us to access the showers. And with that would be the next stage in my sexual awakening, when I could be the true bottom slut I knew I wanted to be.

“I know,” I said. “It’s a risk, but one I’m willing to take.”

“Fine,” he said. “You want to get fucked over by half the guys here and die, then so be it. Fuck you, Adam.” That was the first time he’d called me by name. Tyrone got off the bed and stood at the cell door, waiting for it to open.

I stared at his back and ass and legs — all of it was heavily muscled and a lot of it was decorated with tattoos and scars. Tyrone was an impressive mountain of a man, one that I desired immensely, but one that I couldn’t submit to any longer.

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University Sex Encounters Bundle

This hot and sweaty bundle collects all five of Sandra Claire’s university-themed erotica stories. Each scorching entry features university students doing what they do best — getting hot and sweaty and hooking up at any chance they can get.

Included in this volume are:
SEDUCED BY MY PROFESSOR: A college jock gets seduced by his MILF professor when he asks for extra help.
SPANKED BY THE NAUGHTY LIBRARIAN: When Dale returns his books late, he gets a spanking from the naughty librarian.
SORORITY SEDUCTION: Jessica wants nothing to do with her ex, Josh, until she encounters him in his underwear.
PLEASING MY PROFESSOR: Vanessa will do anything for an A — anything.
DOING MY TUTOR: Lisa has been lusting for her math tutor for months now — and today, she’s ready to finally make the moves on this shy, timid man!

WARNING: This 22,300-word short story collection contains multiple explicit sex scenes between lustful university students, dirty professors, football stars, sorority members, and more and will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

Kevin reached out and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Professor Cameron called. Her honey voice, with just a bit of a husky edge, always went straight to his groin. He nudged the door open so she could see him. She leaned back in her chair, her short skirt riding up her crossed legs. “Ah, Kevin, nice to see you. What can I do for you?”

“I’m having a little trouble with yesterday’s assignment. I was hoping to get a little help,” he said. He tried not to stare at her milky thigh. She pointed at the only other chair in her cramped office and he sat down opposite her.

She looked at him over her thick-rimmed glasses. Kevin couldn’t quash the fantasy that she looked like a naughty librarian, especially with those glasses, that skirt, and the tight white blouse she wore that barely contained her large breasts.

“That’s what I’m here for, Kevin.” She bit her lower lip. “I’d love to help you with anything you need.”

Is she coming on to me? No...fuck...why would she want a stupid first year student like me? Fantasies of Professor Cameron had fuelled many masturbation sessions over the past few weeks; and every time she so much as looked in his direction, his first thought was always that she was hitting on him.

But his runaway imagination didn’t explain why she squeezed her arms together just slightly, pushing her chest out. Her heavy, melon-sized tits strained at the fabric, the buttons holding her blouse closed nearly snapping off.

Kevin watched the gap at the center of her blouse—there was no sign of a bra underneath. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, then forced himself to look up, to make eye contact.

“I’m glad you came in, Kevin. Your last quiz didn’t go so well, and it was basic anatomy.” She uncrossed her legs and parted them slightly, her dark skirt rising just a little higher. The skin of her inner thighs was smooth and shiny, drawing his eye up toward her crotch.

“Yeah, I just—I just don’t seem to get it that easily,” he said, voice cracking a couple times. It was difficult enough to concentrate on the subject matter when he was in Professor Cameron’s classroom, along with a hundred other people. But in the warm, cramped space of Cameron’s tiny office, concentration was just damn near impossible. Professor Cameron was like a wet dream come true. God knows how many times he’d jacked off to fantasies of her.

“What area are you struggling with right now?” she asked.

Kevin couldn’t stop the blush that heated his cheeks. He looked down at the papers clutched in his hand and then up at her again. “Um, the, uh...sex organs.” He put his papers down on the desk, to show her the diagram of a cross-section of the female reproductive system. “I’m, uh...unfamiliar with it and I’m struggling with memorizing it.”

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Doing My Tutor

Lisa has a burning lust for John, a math tutor, and has been faking difficulties in math for months now, just to get close to him. But every time she’s hit on him or dropped a hint that she liked him, he would always ignore it. John likes her, she was sure of it — it was just his morality keeping him away, his sense of the line between tutor and tutee. Lisa can’t wait any longer; she needs to seduce John today or she’ll go crazy with lust. It starts with laying her hand on his leg while they’re in the secluded back area of the library, and soon heats up when John responds in a way that confirms for her she’s been right all along.

WARNING: This 4,800-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a student and her tutor that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

I had to make my move now — a move that neither of us could back down from. I either needed to get fucked right here and right now, or I needed to end this and go home and get off with a vibrator. While he continued to examine my answers and studiously avoid looking at me, I half-undid the button on my shirt — the one button that was holding everything in place.

“It looks like you’re getting this,” he said. His voice quivered a bit — god, he needed this as bad as I did, he just had to act on it. He finally turned toward me again and looked me in the eye. I watched as a bead of sweat gathered at his hairline and rolled down his temple. This boy had it bad. “I think you could do this step a little cleaner,” he added, pointing at a problem I deliberately messed up on, just to give us something to talk about.

“Oh?” I asked. I turned my upper body toward him and, just as I’d hoped, that crucial button popped free and my breasts fell out. “Oh my God!” I said in an urgent whisper. “I’m so sorry!”

I scooped up my breasts and put them back in my shirt. But I had won — his eyes locked onto my boobs and focussed on my nipples. His face went beet red when he realized I’d caught him staring.

“Maybe we should, uh,” John said, fumbling for words. He shoved my papers back in front of me and reached below the table for his backpack.

I put my hand on his hairy thigh and he froze. “Don’t leave,” I begged. I leaned toward him, to the point where my breasts almost fell out of my shirt again — and, fuck yes, his eyes were locked on my cleavage. “I still need some ... one on one with you ... we need to penetrate this homework assignment, really go deep...” I moved my hand further up his thigh, the hair beneath my fingers becoming coarse and thick. “I need you to help me...”

He looked around nervously, eyes scanning the room. “I, uh, I...”

I didn’t bother looking around, ensuring we were alone; it didn’t matter to me. Besides, if he’d spotted someone, I would’ve seen the panic in his eyes. I leaned in closer, bringing my lips to his ear, and slipped my fingers up the leg of his shorts, to the warm bulge that lay just a few inches away. My fingertips brushed against his long, hard cock, contained by a thin layer of cotton, and he jolted. Heat rose within me at that briefest of touches — John was much thicker and longer than I had thought he’d be.

“Stop hesitating,” I whispered into his ear, hot and heavy. “Touch me.”

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Pleasing My Professor

Vanessa got a C on her university paper and is desperate to get it bumped up to an A. She hatches the perfect plan — seduce Dr. Barnes and give him what he wants in return for a better mark. After all, Dr. Barnes has a reputation for sleeping with students for this very purpose. But to bump up from a C to an A requires more than just quick and simple sex.  No, to get an A, Dr. Barnes has something else in mind for Vanessa.

WARNING: This 4,800-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a student and her older university professor that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

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Excerpt

I set my backpack and purse down on the floor and I sat in the chair facing him. “I’ve got my paper in here,” I said, leaning forward to dig it out of my bag. My breasts nearly popped out of my shirt. I resisted the temptation to look up at Dr. Barnes, but I was sure he was staring down my shirt.

When I grabbed my paper and sat upright again, I saw the guilty shift in Dr. Barnes’s eyes. Yeah, he’d been staring. I edged forward in my chair, so just the edge of my ass was on it, and crossed my legs, letting my skirt rise even higher. I’d gone without panties today and I hoped it was noticeable from where he sat. I would’ve gone without a bra, too, but this one does amazing things to my rack.

I looked Dr. Barnes over as I handed him my paper and he quickly scanned through it. Could I fuck him? He was maybe in his forties, quite fit, had a full head of hair without a single gray. He was a hot daddy-type. I felt my pussy suddenly become a bit wet — maybe I wanted this more than I realized. When planning this, I’d expected to have to put up with it, but if the heat building in me was any indication, I might actually want this as much as him.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “I remember your paper. You had a great opening argument, but your supporting evidence was a bit forced and your conclusion more or less fell flat.” He looked up at me, his eyes never rising higher than my chest.

“Is there ... anything I can do ... to improve my grade?” I asked, pausing every few words, doing my best to sound seductive.

“We might ... we might be able to come to some sort of arrangement.” He finally looked up at my eyes. “Depends how much work you put into it. You could ... rewrite it this weekend and send it to me on Monday morning.” By the offhand manner in which he said that, and the way he waved his hand dismissively, I could tell he didn’t want us to take that option. No, he wanted a different kind of arrangement, but I could also sense some nervousness in him, like he wanted to be sure we were on the same page before he made his move.

“I was,” I said, pausing and running my fingers down the V of my shirt, stopping where it dove between my breasts, “hoping for an alternate arrangement.”

Dr. Barnes sat back in his chair and spread his legs. His bulge was noticeable — huge and hard. “What kind of arrangements did you have in mind.”

I let my hand fall from my shirt to the hem of my skirt. I nudged it up my thigh even more as I uncrossed my legs. The cool air of the office brushed between my legs, kissing me tenderly. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

He groped himself. “The final question, is how high do you want your grade to jump? Because if you want an A or an A+, we’re going to have to come to some sort of ... deep understanding.”

I groaned seductively and let my head fall back a bit, exposing my neck to him, as I ran my fingers across my mound. “I need an A ... and I’m willing to do anything to get it...”

When I heard the zip of Dr. Barnes’s fly, I brought my head back up and watched as he reached into his pants and pulled out his long, thick cock. It was so much bigger than my ex-boyfriend’s.

I licked my lips as I stood up and came around to his side of the desk. I fell to my knees in front of him and wrapped my fingers around his shaft — it was hard and very warm, throbbing in my grip. I looked up at him and bit my lower lip, a look I’ve seduced men with before.

“I want that A,” I said, gently stroking up and down his shaft.

“Then you better start sucking,” he said.

I opened my mouth and took the crown of his dick in me. It tasted clean and his skin was velvety-soft. Slowly, I sunk my face down on it, taking it deeper in my mouth, until it brushed against the back of my throat. I bobbed my head up and down, moaning into his dick.

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