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Christmas Day with the Virgin Butt (Son Makes Three #3)

Posted on January 28, 2022 by indieerotica

Otto and his dad, Wolf, have been in a monogamous and emotional marriage for years, just the two of them. All of that changed on a hot summer night six months ago when Otto’s son, Delfin, turned eighteen and wanted to join his father and grandfather in their special bond.

It started with Delfin’s first kiss, then his first mutual masturbation, and finally his first oral experience. But the more this hot twink loses innocence, the more he wants it.

Now it’s Christmas Day and Delfin is ready for the ultimate experience: to lose his anal virginity.

And there are only two men in his life that he wants to share it with.

Christmas Day with the Virgin Butt is a 4,500-word short story.

“When can we…open the presents?” Delfin said in his youthful voice, looking at me and Dad.

I gazed at my beautiful boy as I lay on his left side. He looked just like his estranged Brazilian mom: honey-tan skin, honey-colored eyes, and thick hair so beautifully black that it shone like silk. Despite being mixed with German from Dad’s side and French from Mom’s, he looked more Latino.

“We’ll open them soon, don’t worry,” Dad said in his German accent, brushing Delfin’s hair with his knuckles. He’d been more affectionate with him than ever before, like the two of them had grown closer than I’d realized. Honestly, I was glad, and it was beautiful to watch.

I remembered coming home very early from work a few weeks ago, and the two of them had been in our bedroom with the door closed, making noises like they’d been lifting something heavy. Flustered, Dad had demanded that I didn’t go in and that I wait instead. Apparently, it’d been my Christmas gift, which I’d open soon enough. How sweet that they’d wanted to surprise me. They’d insisted on showering right after, and we’d spent the rest of the day together.

I stroked Delfin’s cheek. Growing up, he’d been different from many other kids. His maturation process hadn’t caught up fast enough. However, his slight speech impediment hadn’t stopped him from learning how to speak well because of me and Dad being rigorous about it. Even though he was still young at heart, Dad and I made sure never to treat him as if he were different because he’d never be in our eyes. His struggle with speaking longer phrases to where he had to break them up a bit didn’t matter at all. He still managed very well, and I was always proud of him.

After loving on my beautiful son, I rubbed Dad’s chest, his graying-blond hairs tickling my knuckles. His furry wolf body never failed to captivate me in all the horny ways my moderately-hairy otter body could respond. He stroked my brown hair, our green eyes locking with one another with the kind of desire whose flame would never be put out. He was the sexiest man I knew, whose German name, Wolf, naturally fit him. He looked younger for fifty-eight, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t. He’d always be my king. He’d always be the man I worshiped every single day of my life as the patriarch of the Melker family. I, of course, would always be his prince.

Or maybe he should now be the emperor, I the king, and Delfin the prince. Truthfully, the idea of just the two of us together as husbands had been morphing into an unexpected intergenerational triad, and we wholeheartedly welcomed it. We only hoped that Delfin would want to be a permanent part of it, but we knew he had to decide that for himself.

Dad reached for my average-size cock and stroked it, prompting me to stroke his seven inches of uncut man meat that was nice and thick. We jerked each other for a moment while Delfin gave us a horny smile, his own stiffy longer and thicker than ours.

Babysitting for the Hot Dads

Posted on January 7, 2022January 7, 2022 by indieerotica

Eighteen-year-old Daphne loves babysitting little Lisa, especially since her gay dads, Chadwick and Deckard, are so hot.

After putting Lisa to bed, Daphne takes advantage of some of the amenities of this expansive home by taking a soak in the hot tub. While Chadwick and Deckard have always given her permission to do so, she’s still more than a little embarrassed when the two hot dads come home early and find her in a skimpy translucent bikini and about to touch herself under the foamy hot tub waters.

But that embarrassment quickly eases, though the tension ramps up, when she learns that the gay dads are actually bi dads…and they’re giving her signals that they’re into her.

A curious young woman, two intrigued grown men, and a relaxing hot tub. What could go wrong when the night is still young?

Babysitting for the Hot Dads is a 4,300-word short story.

Now that she was deep asleep, I could finally relax in the hot tub from all the stresses of starting college in the fall. I’d miss babysitting her once I left. I’d started working here just after her birth two years ago. Sixteen and curious then, eighteen and bolder now.

I turned off the ceiling lamp that automatically switched to a comforting nightlight below. I sauntered into the guestroom, smaller than Lisa’s room but still bigger than my room. I got undressed, showered in the main bathroom down the hallway, and slipped on my white bikini. It was the nice thing about wearing this one in particular since white showed more when wet, and the bottom defined my small-but-perky ass; both dads were gay and totally not interested in me. I could wear whatever I wanted, within reason. The attention I got at the clubs I’d started going to with my friends was annoying. Immature horndogs hounding on us, a bit too pushy for my taste.

I wouldn’t mind a bit older, though.

I gave my straight hair a few brushstrokes in front of the bathroom mirror, yanked the blonde strands and dropped them into the trashcan, and left. If only I could live in this mini mansion. Well, no, a chateau after being corrected by Chadwick, the more anal of the two. How dare I forget.

I grabbed a cherry-flavored lollipop to save for the hot tub, as well as a towel and my phone. I decided to start with a little swim in the large, artfully-shaped pool decorated with soft outdoor lights that lit rainbow colors to coincide with Pride. This June was going to be a hot month; I could already tell.

I set the folded towel near the cemented edge and laid my phone on top of it. I dove into the water in a light splash and swam random laps for a few minutes, eventually floating on my back. The deep-purple sky greeted me with its starry beauty.

I smiled, and thoughts of college life filled me with so much curiosity. Going from living at home with Mom, Dad, and my two teasingly-hot stepbrothers, to a cramped room with strangers while surrounded by more rooms and more strangers. Yet I couldn’t wait.

I swam back to the edge to check my phone, and I rolled my eyes at a text from Erwin. Again? How did he keep having a different number every time I blocked him? He was good with tech stuff, but still. I wasted no time blocking his new number, promising myself that the next time would lead to a restraining order. Ugh, had I known he’d been toxic, I wouldn’t have lost my virginity to him. It wasn’t that losing it had to be extra special. It was losing it to him for a bitter memory. Now, he was back to being “in love” with me after hating me for not wanting to date him, apologizing for calling me an ungrateful bitch who’d only used him for his monster cock, and that he’d been “joking” about wishing I’d sent him nudes to use against me.

Whatever.

More like a series of bad sex, one pounding after another, much to my discomfort.

I clamped my hands onto the edge and pulled myself out of the pool. I left my towel and phone there since the hot tub was really close by. But I grabbed my lollipop, unwrapped it, and headed along the stone path for a steamy soak. The immaculate garden that decorated the back of the mini man—er, chateau—made me smile, its exotic flowers exuding a pleasing scent.

Once I was in the bubbling water, I found myself sliding my hand between my legs while savoring the cherry taste. The steam and massaging jet streams combined, enhancing the “wet” experience. What was it like having good sex? Erwin was my only experience, and I refused to believe sex was always that bad. What a selfish jerk who’d only cared about getting off and then insisting he’d been too tired to wait for me to come. Why had I waited a couple of months to end it?

And then, my biggest crush ever: a hot jock with dimples, big muscles, and a nice bubble butt to look at. He was dating my best friend; so, that was out of the question. Girl code, but especially a friendship I cared too much about to break.

“Having fun, Daphne?”

I was startled by a deep, sexy voice, and I jerked my hand away from my crotch, my heart pounding. I gave Chadwick and Deckard a sheepish grin. They must’ve been ready for a swim since they wore their designer swim trunks that highlighted their smooth and muscular bodies. I’d read about the gay-wolf body type. That was definitely them. “Sorry, I-I was just relaxing.”

“I see,” Deckard said, forming a subtle smirk. Was that…intrigue in his voice? God, he was so hot. His greenish eyes sparkling with amusement, dark-blond hair in a sexy mess, his face just a touch scruffy, and his full lips asking for a nibble. He never failed to capture my attention. He was the tanner of the two, clearly enjoying the sun more.

“Mind if we join you?” Chadwick asked, always the more polite one. He was just as hot with his blue-gray eyes softening with kindness, dark hair in a combed style, paler tone, and a more-chiseled face than Deckard’s. Both had the kind of power in their voices to send electricity from my naughty brain to my wet pussy.

A Brotherly Christmas

Posted on December 24, 2021 by indieerotica

It’s Christmas Eve and Josh turns eighteen at midnight.

For years, he’s pined over the forbidden love he harbors for his brother, Jake, but he knows he’ll never get to act on that taboo desire. But Josh is the kind of guy that never gives up on hope…just like he never gives up on believing in Santa.

For Josh, Santa is real, he sees him every Christmas Eve. Normally, Josh is a good boy and always ends up on the good list—but this year, his eighteenth, he wants to play a little prank on Santa, even if it risks putting him on the naughty list.

But when the prank is caught and Santa confronts him, his potential punishment turns into a gift he’ll never forget.

A Brotherly Christmas is a 4,500-word short story.

In the dimly-lit living room, I sat on the bear rug with my legs crossed in anticipation, just a few feet away from the large Christmas tree. The heater had turned off for the cycle, and the embers in the rustic fireplace barely glowed. The only sound in the house was Dad’s snoring, drowning out any of Jake’s snores. At least the stench of cheap cigarettes had finally faded away, which did nothing but yellow the chipped walls.

I wore an old set of Christmassy PJs that still fit me because I was a twink who could fit into practically any small size. To be fair, it had originally belonged to a cousin of mine who had grown into a twunk.

Even though Mom was no longer around to tell me to be a good boy, I already knew to carefully leave a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk on the wobbly coffee table, just like every year. Please, as if I didn’t know what the surprise was. I’d just kept it to myself because it was part of the fun. Life was hard, and so was family life. Let me have something magical to hold onto, at least.

Now that it was past midnight, I was officially eighteen. So, this year, I wanted to have some fun and mix things up. I’d jerked off and shot a big load inside the glass of milk as a devious little prank. I couldn’t wait for Santa to drink it all up so that I could see his reaction.

After more minutes of waiting, Santa finally came from right behind me in quiet steps. I never turned around because I wanted to wait until he circled around to face me for a proper surprise. He always stood right by the Christmas tree.

Like every year, I forced myself to believe Santa really was here again, albeit slimmer and younger than the old and jolly version, but still much bigger than me. He towered over me in his famous red suit and hat that made me melt in ways I couldn’t begin to explain. “Ho, ho, ho!” he cheered in a low tone, his voice so deep in a contrived way.

He knew just how much this meant to me. He knew I didn’t want to grow up, but since I had to at my age, I might as well cling onto this part of my childhood. That was the whole point of this yearly experience. Some things, I just didn’t want to let go of, even though I was expected to.

Santa ate the cookies, looking pleased. Then, he gulped down the milk, but he made an awkward and pensive face. He sighed, shaking his head. “I think I know why this milk tastes a bit funny.” He didn’t sound mad, though.

I pursed my lips, trying my hardest to suppress a giggle. I was so naughty this year!

My Bratty Nephew: 4-Pack Bundle

Posted on November 30, 2021 by indieerotica

Bruce isn’t pleased to have his bratty nephew, Cody, come and live with him for a year, but he’ll put up with the annoying twink as a favor for his sister. She’s hoping that a year of hard work and no partying will help Cody straighten up and fly right.

But the discomfort and awkwardness ratchets up when Cody starts making passes at Bruce…and Bruce is giving it his all to resist Cody’s efforts. If only they weren’t uncle and nephew, then maybe Bruce would give in.

A man can only hold out for so long, though, and when Bruce’s sexual urges become impossible to resist, he gives in to this taboo desire, taking him down a forbidden path that he can never return from.

My Bratty Nephew: 4-Pack Bundle is a 40,000-word collection of four previously-published uncle/nephew erotica short stories.

Included in this bundle are:
- Pounding My Nephew’s Butt
- Locking My Bratty Nephew in Chastity
- Fisting My Bratty Nephew
- Loving My Bratty Nephew

I slowly woke up and felt utterly content and completely at peace. My nose was buried in Cody’s hair, his smooth naked back was pressed against my hairy naked front, and my cock was still buried in his ass. We’d fallen asleep post-fucking last night before I could pull out to clean up and, well, things just stayed where they were.

And now with it being morning, I had a major hard-on. I ran my hand down Cody’s shoulder and upper arm and kissed the back of his neck.

“Mmm…” he moaned, then quarter-rolled back to glance at me over his shoulder. “Good morning, Uncle Bruce.”

I still couldn’t believe my luck. I had reluctantly taken Sarah’s son in—my nephew—to hopefully help him sort out his life and get started out as an adult. It had been rough at first with him being a little dickwad that moped all day and jerked all night.

But then there was that fateful day where boundaries had been crossed. I fucked my nephew. I fucked him hard. And he wanted more.

Since then, we’d fucked and sucked over and over again in all sorts of places—at home, at work, outside, in my truck—and, if anything, that fire of lust never burned out. Instead, it had only grown and something I could only describe as love had started to infuse it all.

Even when he was being a brat, I loved him and desired him.

“Good morning, boy,” I murmured back to him. I kissed his neck again and then nibbled at his earlobe, making him gasp.

He reached back between us and wrapped his dainty fingers around the girthy base of my cock, as if confirming what he felt in his ass. He brought that hand back to his mouth and spit in it, then used that spit to slick up what he could reach of my dick.

“You sure you want it?” I asked him. The part of be buried inside of him wasn’t lubed at all. “It’ll be a bit dry.”

“Just go slow,” he said, voice full of lust, “and add spit now and then.”

I nudged an arm underneath him and draped the other arm overtop him, hugging my much smaller nephew against my broad, muscular frame. From there, we worked as one, the way that only two lovers who share a soul can do. We slowly eased my cock deeper into his ass, and whenever I withdrew it, I slathered more spit on the shaft, then shoved back inside to slowly lube up his chute.

“Uncle Bruce…” Cody moaned. I loved the way he said my name when he was getting it good.

My Loving Amish Father

Posted on November 29, 2021November 29, 2021 by indieerotica

Eli returns from a life-changing rumspringa. Now eighteen, his home is no longer the Amish community he grew up in, but rather, a rural trailer park where his excommunicated father moved to. After four years of living in a bustling big city, the quiet and simple life isn't exactly what Eli had in mind. However, he's willing to put up with it in hopes of growing close to his irresistibly handsome father.

Eli has warded off plenty of horny men just so that he could save himself for the one and only who matters most to him: the man who gave him life and even gave him his own name. He doesn't just have sexual feelings for his own father, but romantic ones too.

Now, wherever Father goes, son goes.

Even if it's right inside the shower stall where a different kind of wash could alter their father/son relationship in the most forbidden of ways.

My Loving Amish Father is a 3,500-word short story.

The door finally opened, and Father stood tall, sporting a stunned face. Of course, he was stunned. He probably hadn’t expected to ever see me again. Four years, after all. At forty, he looked the same: short and light-brown curls, warm and hazel eyes, rough and suntanned skin, and lean all the way. He wore a white tank top that revealed some brown hairs peeking out from under his arms. He had it tucked inside a pair of fitted, dark pants he still had since before his excommunication from the community. He was still handsome and virile as ever, even with the short beard and growing moustache—Amish men didn't wear moustaches for political reasons.

In contrast, I was clean-shaven, but had recently considered growing my beard; I wondered if I’d look as handsome as him.

I suddenly couldn’t look at him anymore, but I could hear him choking up with emotion.

“Well, blessed be!” That raspy voice in a breathy tone, cracking. Yet for the first time since before I’d left, it filled me with something I shouldn’t have been feeling in my dick.

“C-can I come in, Father?” I couldn’t hide the shame in my voice.

“Oh, son, of course!” He stepped aside, allowing me to enter, and he shut the door. As I was about to burst from my emotions, his strong arms held me close.

I lost it and sobbed, quietly at first.

“It’s okay, Eli. Let it all out. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He pulled off my hood and kissed the top of my buzzed head, just prickles of brown hair barely there.

His sweet affection only made me cry harder.

“I never thought I’d see my boy again. I prayed every morning and night to see you again, and I prayed in between as well.”

I was torn again, just like when I’d started developing these feelings four years ago, shortly before rumspringa. His scent: masculine, dried sweat, light musk, and no cologne, comforting in both my heart and dick.

After some minutes, I let go and sniffled, wiping my eyes and cheeks with my sleeves.

“Thank you for this visit. Will you live with me?” Oh, Father. His hopeful tone said it all.

I nodded, too emotional to speak. I sniffled again.

That put a stronger, warm smile on his face.

I looked around the tiny place that had just one bedroom. At least, I assumed there was only one. How could another one fit in this narrow “hallway” of a home? There was wood paneling everywhere, and a couple of small, curtained windows on the front wall.

On the right side of the place was a worn, brown couch for two with random stains and a few tiny rips, and a tiny bookshelf across from it. No TV or stereo, unsurprisingly. Actually, that was it for the living room.

On the left side was a wooden kitchenette that needed updating, a small card table and two foldup chairs against the front wall, a narrow shower stall right beside the left end of the kitchenette, and a toilet beside that. The sink in the kitchenette was the only one, cluttered with dish soap, hand soap, and toiletries, and a small mirror hanging from above. Finally, an archway that revealed the edge of a seemingly-big bed. Everything was dull in color and style, which proved Father hadn’t changed a bit.

Ugh, I needed a drink. “Do you have alcohol?”

Father looked puzzled. “Goodness, son. Why would you need that?”

I shook my head, muttering, “Nothing, forget it.” I should’ve known better than to ask that. Of course, he didn’t drink and probably hadn’t left his old ways of living.

He inhaled and exhaled, attempting a tiny smile looking pained. “Look at you. My boy is a man now.”

I managed a tight smile, wanting to chat, but also tired and emotional and just…lost.

“Do you have any other clothes? It’s too hot to wear that, don’t you think?”

“I have nothing, Father. And I need a shower right now.”

“Go ahead. The shower stall is right over there.” He pointed to his left, just before the archway to the bedroom. “I’ll go in after you, so you may want to take a quick one because the water gets cold fast and it takes a moment for the hot water to come back.”

I decided to lower my voice to avoid being heard. The neighbors were too close, and some of their windows were open from what I remembered seeing. “Take one with me like you used to, I don’t care.” I wasted no time getting naked, feeling spaced out from the reality and confusion and whatever else I felt.

The Berlin Tales: 4-Pack Bundle

Posted on November 26, 2021 by indieerotica

Peter has come to Berlin to do what he’s always wanted to do—give in to his most base sexual desires.

What starts with an anonymous hookup in the dark at a sauna is actually the first step Peter takes on his journey into the sexual underworld of Berlin. As Peter goes deep into kink and forbidden desires, he comes to learn of the very secret—and very erotic—Antinous Society, an elite club of Berlin’s most powerful men engaging in their most carnal desires.

The Berlin Tales: 4-Pack Bundle is a 41,000-word collection of four previously published stories following Peter’s descent into this erotic underworld.

Included in this bundle are:
- The Chastity Cuck of Kreuzberg
- Servicing My Dominant Chastity Boss in His Office
- Slaves Have No Right to Say No
- A Bull at the Forced Chastity Cuck-Fest

I was a few steps behind, but he led me to a part of the sauna I hadn’t discovered yet, and wasn’t sure I would’ve found on my own. The dry sauna was near the showers, and the sandy heat wasn’t my thing. But he led me down a dark corridor that turned into a surprising six-man shower block, then a translucent door to the steam room. The twink hung up his towel outside and slipped in, watching me as I hung my towel up too. Unsure of whether to fully commit (the story of my life), I hung my own towel up and stayed under a cool shower for a good few minutes, trying hard to let the apprehension wash away.

Surprisingly, the steam room was empty. I wondered if the twink had evaporated, but then I noticed a dark door inside the steam room itself. I went into a stifling hot, pitch black room. It seemed to be an open space rather than a maze, but I staggered with my hands out just to be sure. Yet my eyes were useless in the hot steam and thick blackness. I had to listen, to taste the air. Without a doubt there was more than just the twink and I in this hidden place. In fact, it seemed to be the reason why the men I passed by in the corridors before disappeared into nothing. They were all here.

I felt a body next to me, large and hairy. My eyes adjusted to the man standing with his back to the steamy wall. He had his towel around him and was doing nothing. Deeper in I could hear the sounds of cocksucking. There was someone on their knees, and someone else jerking off into their mouth. Then I hit the back wall with a bench. It was too hot to sit, but through the steam I picked out another man, long armed and long legged, sitting on the bench.

I didn’t make it to the other side of the dark steam room from where groaning sounds and growing sights were also coming, because the tall man reached out a long hand and grabbed my cock. In the darkness there was no need for permission, and no chance to be rejected. He smacked my balls like a cat pawing string as I discovered the outline of his large dick laying against his thigh. I’d found what I never knew I wanted.

Passion overcame me. And the thrill of being alone and utterly unseen. Dropping to my knees on the hot floor, I tongued the tip of his cock, salty and thick, exploring the shaft with my wet lips and having him moan out loud as I did. Maybe this was a signal to however many others were here, the twink included, because as I worked his cock, the heat coalesced around me, as if the men were moving to the back corner of the steam room.

But I concentrated on sucking this ever-expanding cock. His balls were so heavy they rested on the hot tiles themselves, and it took both hands to twist and play with them. He liked that, lifting a heavy leg over my shoulder to draw me in closer. With his hand pushing the back of my head almost to the base of his cock, wiry pubes scratched my nose and it was getting harder to breathe. Eventually I had to retreat from his cock, the hot, wet air reflating my lungs. But he wasn’t letting me go.

I had to stand and stretch my back and click my sore knees, so his hand found my ass. He squeezed and slapped it, ringing the bell out to the men around who I sensed were nearer. I saw the door at the other end of the dark room, the crushed light flicking in the moving shadows of naked bodies. More seemed to be coming in than going out.

He was sitting forward now, jerking his cock as two thick fingers explored my hole. Perhaps he was content to do just that, but I had not come this far, over seas and mountains, carrying luggage and drinking from strange water bottles, to not take what I’d come for. Maybe tomorrow I would wake up feeling different. Maybe I would retreat back to my own world, but I couldn’t come all this way, come to Berlin to have sex, and run away the second it presented itself.

Enter the Dungeon at Your Own Risk (The Berlin Underground #3)

Posted on November 23, 2021June 10, 2022 by indieerotica

As the fabled Berlin dungeon games take place, a first-class ticket to the Antinous Society final trials is at stake. The men will stop at nothing to win. Despite the raucous crowd and mean-spirited master, Peter is forced to fight off his rivals to secure a place in the final round. Losing is not an option. To fall at this stage is to be subjected to the tortuous instruments of the most extreme dungeon in Berlin. What fate will the losers face in the dark, twisting world of the Berlin Underground? Peter is determined to never find out.

Enter the Dungeon at Your Own Risk is a 9,500-word short story.

My balls ached from the ruined orgasm. I’d been one of the last to cum from being bound to the chairs, and so secured my place in the next round, but at what cost? I was an empty shell. What should be the soothing energy of a post-orgasmic glow instead screeched through my body like a spanner jammed into the mechanism. Sparks flew, but angry ones. Frustration built in the back of my throat, and I wanted to scream.

There was enough screaming rippling through the room we’d just left, though. The five losers of round two of the dungeon games were presently tied to chairs, hooded, cuffed, their holes torn apart with whatever abuse the horned-up Berlin audience chose to subject them to. And who could complain? We’d all signed up to this, even if we’d not all read the fine print of the contract.

“You’re not alphas and betas anymore,” Stefan, the dungeon master said as the five of us who've made it through to round three stumbled punch-drunk and exhausted down a chilled basement corridor. Lukas, my arch-nemesis, trotted up front beside the hairy-armed Stefan decked out in a tight tank top. Bareiß, the senior politician turned winning sub walked alongside him, whispering together, and obviously about me. They turned back, looked me up and down, and carried on whispering. “Round three is a free-for-all. Three-for-all, get it?” Stefan groaned as none of us laughed, or even paid much attention to what he was saying. The concrete corridor froze my feet, and my body shivered from being naked and streaked with cum.

Double doors greeted us at the end of the corridor, with a sign above reading Extreme Dungeon: Enter at your own risk. But Stefan blocked the way forward, arms folded. We all stumbled to a halt. I walked straight into one of the others’ naked backs; a young, slim Indian guy who even if I didn’t know that Lukas and I were the only alphas to make it through, I’d assume he was a sub.

“Sorry,” I whispered. He smiled in response. The thin act of kindness a welcome change to the Lukas-Bareiß axis of evil constantly on my ass. “I’m Peter,” I said, craving the slightest chance of an ally.

“Vivek,” he replied, cautiously covering his cock even though we were all naked. He stood in stark contrast to Bareiß and Lukas, like two jocks swinging their cocks in a locker room. Our fifth winner was a muscled Black man with a shaved head and tattoos covering most of his torso. He could’ve passed as a professional wrestler. Who he must have lost to in round one to end up as a beta I didn’t want to imagine. Perhaps I was lucky to have faced Bareiß. The Black guy’s cock hung low and heavy, like a weapon. If round three was a dick measuring contest, he would win hands down.

“The audience in here are the elite,” Stefan said, nodding to the closed door. “Long-standing members of the dungeon. Some of them underground masters themselves. Now, does anyone want to take advantage of the pussy clause in their contract? If so, you can fuck off now.” None of us did, although I sprung gingerly from foot to foot, watching Lukas and Bareiß watch me. I breathed quietly but harshly; my gut twisted like I needed to pee. Maybe I did, the wrecked orgasm played havoc with my balls. “Go get your sorry asses cleaned up and ready,” Stefan said, nodding not to the double dungeon doors, but to an unmarked door to his right.

We crowded into a small shower room. Three pipes, cracked tiles and a pile of threadbare towels gone gray with too many bleaching’s were stacked on a bench. I was about to ask if we should take turns, but the other four went straight in. I joined Vivek on the right, while Lukas and Bareiß shared the left and the Black guy squeezed himself alone under the middle shower head. The water was harsh and hot. Sharp streams hurt my balls and still-sensitive cockhead as I tried to wash away all the lube and unseen memories of being blindfolded on the chair.

Forced on a Plane

Posted on November 16, 2021November 16, 2021 by indieerotica

Kyle is a twink on a mission.

Two months ago, while flying to Australia for vacation, the two hunky seat mates next to him took him to the Mile High Club. They blew his mind while he blew his…you know.

That first time he was nervous, uncertain, a little inexperienced.

But now, on the flight home, he’s prepared. He doesn’t know who his seat mates will be this time around, but if they’re anything like the ones he had on the flight down under, he’ll eagerly give in to any advances they make.

As the lights dim and the seatbelt sign switches off, carnal lust is about to take over.

Forced on a Plane is a 3,500-word short story and the unofficial (though author-approved) sequel to Forced in Public by Sandra Claire.

Peering up at the man, his eyes were still focused on his papers, his pen moving quickly as he wrote. Glancing down, I noticed the briefcase had been moved a bit further down on his lap but still in comfortable writing distance. Looking up again, I saw the man’s forehead glistening, despite the coolness of the plane.

I smirked as I adjusted my eyes to the darkness beneath the man’s arms, along the handle of the briefcase. I noticed the man’s zipper was down and a red sleeve was partially disappeared within, creating an extra lumpy bulge. Raising an eye, the businessman was now panting slightly, both of his hands in clear view on the briefcase, although the pen had stalled in its work.

A leg bumped into mine and I startled, glancing up into the brown eyes of the man, then focused on the forked tongue grazing his lips as he stared right at me. I felt a wave a panic overcome me, unsure what this stranger would do for catching me watching. I started to tremble when the man leaned toward me and flicked his tongue against my lips, then sat back again, going back to his writing.

Was that an invitation?

My heart pounded heavily in my chest, one of my legs trembled, and I started to sweat as I was reminded of the original flight. Will this be like the previous time? Was I going to get to suck on this guy’s cock? What did the cock look like? Smell like? Taste like?

Glancing down again, licking my bottom lip, I saw more of the red sleeve as it began to retract from the crotch. As much as I wanted to know who was attached to that sleeve, the sudden appearance of a dripping cock head distracted me, and it pointed directly at me. Bulbous, cut, I watched as a drop of pre-cum dangled, on the verge of falling. Before I knew it, that single drop fell upon my finger I hadn’t realized I moved toward the tasty treat.

Bringing the finger up to my lips, I tasted the drop, and reveled in its taste. My vision blurred as I lost all sensation of the aircraft and my surroundings. The only thing that mattered was that cock.

Boys in the Clouds

Posted on November 4, 2021 by indieerotica

It's summer vacation, and Bailey has the house all to himself. What better way than to take advantage of lots of alone time with his best friend, Claud. The two of them plan to have so much fun before their last year of high school in the fall.

Now that Bailey and Claud came out to each other, there are many new things to explore in their lives. They can relate to each other's personal struggles, and they're able to confide in each other more than ever. They can also check out other boys together, because why not?

But maybe instead of checking out other boys, they can check each other out and take their friendship to a whole new level. Testing the waters with a serious flirt here and there could be a promising start. They've already flirted harmlessly before, after all. It would just be the next step. If only being virgins didn't make them more anxious.

Bailey also has a crush on Claud, so it's not only physical on his part. He just doesn't know how to go about it. He's more outgoing than the shyer Claud, yet he doesn't feel like it in a unique situation like this.

Who will make the first move? Where will things lead between them? What will happen to their friendship? What they do know is that this summer isn't going to be the same as any other hot one.

It's going to be hot in a whole new way.

Boys in the Clouds is a 3,700 word short story.

Publisher's note: Zay de Parco books are more steamy than explicit, but still very hot!

Thank God school’s out for the summer.

Claud and I just came out to each other. It took us long enough after suspecting each other’s sexuality for a while. We flirt with each other a lot, but we never question it. We flirt because it’s fun and something we got used to doing. I swear we’re the only gay guys in town, even though that might not be the case. It just feels that way because of how conservative our bumfuck Michigan town is. If we’re not the only ones, then there can’t be many others.

What’s awesome about this summer is that my parents are away. Since they went to Hawaii last year, they decided to go to Puerto Rico this year. They’re still very much in love and enjoy spending lots of alone time together. It works out in my favor because I have the lake house all to myself for the whole summer.

Now, Claud and I are floating on our blue, inflatable rafts in the large in-ground swimming pool, the hot sun tanning our backs. We had a splash war a moment ago. I didn’t win because Claud is bigger and stronger than me. Even though we’re both jocks, he’s just huge in comparison. He’s on the wrestling team, so he wins at everything. I never win anything. Plus, he’s taller, so there’s that too.

After being too antsy to stay in one position for too long, I flip around and gaze while Claud remains on his stomach. The clear, blue sky looks pretty with how the fluffy clouds almost form a heart, a rare shape for such a thing. It makes me wish I could fly up there. Maybe I’m just in the mood for some weed. Maybe Claud and I could buy some off our neighbor.

I turn my head to glance at Claud, smiling while my heart and body tingle everywhere. What a hottie who has the ability to make me want him more than he knows. Eyes focused, I trace the outline of his back and stop at his clothed bubble butt, then trace his long legs and toned calves. Who would’ve thought I’d end up feeling this way about my own best friend?

He forms a grin, oblivious to my gawking at him. “Hey, Bailey, do you ever regret our slack-off year in the ninth grade?” He has a real deep voice for hitting puberty after a delayed growth spurt. And I thought mine was deep. “Well, our first ninth-grade year, not the second one, obviously.”

I shift my gaze back to the sky. “Why, because we’ll be the only eighteen-year-old seniors for a while when we go back to school this fall?” I didn’t really care if we were mocked for it. Then again, most of the students probably didn’t, either. Claud’s worrying over nothing.

“Well, maybe that too, but more like colleges won’t be impressed that we failed a year since it’s permanently on our high school records.”

“That’s a good point, but I’m not planning to go to some pretentious university that won’t guarantee my acceptance even with perfect grades.”

“So, we’re probably stuck going to a community college, then, huh?”

“Not necessarily. There might be some universities out there that are more lenient. Besides, it was just the one year, and that was a few years ago.”

“Because of that stupid challenge to see what would happen if we did literally nothing at school.” Claud chuckles.

I grin. Yeah, we were pretty stupid for skipping school, not doing our homework, and getting drunk and high all the time like stupid asses. Well, we still got high at times, just less stupid. I’m not sure how Claud felt at the time, but I wanted to spend so much extra time with him because of whatever it was I felt and still feel for him.

Punishing My Himbo Slut Brother: The Complete Series 3-Pack Bundle

Posted on October 22, 2021November 4, 2021 by indieerotica

Noah is a man of God and a soon-to-be ministry student. When he discovers just how sinful his himbo brother Ark is, he’s determined to save the man and turn him away from sin and toward a better life.

But as Noah delves deeper into Ark’s sexual deviancy, Noah feels pulled toward the sin…to engage in it himself. After all, if he’s to save his brother, he must first understand the allure of that sin.

As he’s pulled deeper, Noah realizes that he loves Ark as more than just a brother, and what he wants from his brother is something God could never condone—but that doesn’t stop Noah.

Punishing My Himbo Slut Brother: The Complete Series 3-Pack Bundle collects all three stories in the series (Sin, Release, and Punishment) in one 14,000 word bundle full of taboo desires.

“We all sin, though. Sin is sin in God’s eyes.”

“I disagree. But I get it. Ark’s your brother, so it makes sense you don’t want to accept this. Anyway, I have to go. See you in church. God bless you.”

“God bless you too.” I ended the call and stared at the text that contained nothing but the suddenly-infamous link. Our cozy little town in northern Wisconsin had no room for gays, so why would our family? Dad would disown Ark if all of this were true. He’d said so multiple times about hypothetically having a gay son, while he’d use corrective rape for a pretty and feminine lesbian daughter. I didn’t agree with the latter because it was disgusting and just wrong. Gay was gay regardless of gender, and they all had a chance to be righteous with God if they repented. I just prayed it was all a big misunderstanding and that Ark really wasn’t gay.

After staring at the link for a moment longer, I bit the bullet and tapped on the link to open the browser. Ginger The Jelloboy? But was that Ark’s face pic used on the profile? Red hair, greenish-blue eyes, lightly-freckled face…oh, goodness, it really was him, and with a horny expression I’d never seen. The fact that we strongly resembled each other was even more humiliating because I could almost see myself in his face, just that he was a jock like Dad used to be—Dad was still in good shape for his age, though. Meanwhile, my skinny body couldn’t fatten up no matter how much I ate, just like Mom. I was a lot taller than Ark too, about Dad’s height, so our faces were all we had in common.

And that bio? Why would Ark call himself a “buttslut jock with a used hole?” That was disgusting. This wasn’t right. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe someone had created this profile and used his pic.

I reluctantly clicked on the videos tab, and my eyes grew wide at a slew of video thumbnails popping up. What the… I rushed to grab my earbuds and plugged them into my phone. This needed a proper investigation. It was too important to ignore. I swallowed, not wanting to accept any of this. Maybe it really was a prank. Yeah, yeah. It had to be. Ark wasn’t the type to do this. I knew him my whole life!

I clicked on the latest free teaser and started the video clip. Loud pop music with horny female moans and sexually-vulgar lyrics played, startling me enough to quickly lower the volume. Ark’s big and smooth butt bounced like jello on a huge, Black cock, moaning in a tone I’d never heard before while saying, “Fuck me like a dirty slut.” What…? Then, a big, white cock pounded his butt in hard thwacks, making it jiggle some more, along with cock after cock after cock. Even a double penetration scene involving two Black guys! Finally, his face was jizzed on by a bunch of jocks in a chorus of loud groans, his tongue wiggling around as if hungry for it. The video ended with a caption that said to subscribe to his videos “for more sinfully sweet fun.” And it had all taken place in his room.

On the other side of my left wall.