Category: Cameron D. James

Bump and Grind (Go-Go Boys of Club 21 #1)

Liam loves the life of being a go-go boy—dancing, partying, constant adoration from hot clients.  The only thing he has to worry about is if he’s using the right moves as he grinds to the beat to win the affection of the highest tippers.

But tonight, there’s a new patron at Club 21—Ryan, a dream hunk and former porn celebrity—and he’s got eyes for Liam, and Liam alone. A private dance is a no-touch affair, but when Ryan rents Liam for half an hour all for himself, the experience forever changes how Liam sees his life in the club.

Bump and Grind is a 12,500-word novella.

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Excerpt

We’re the go-go boys of Club 21. We dance, we fuel fantasies, and we give ourselves to the beat. We bump, we grind, and before each shift we have a jerk off competition; the order in which we come determines who gets the most desirable dance platform.

Normally, I shoot first, earning me the prime spot by the DJ. Ken usually comes shortly after me; he claims I get him excited. Lance, our new guy, he’s always last and ends up with the crappy spot by the pool tables.

Today, I decided to try something different—a strategy, if you will—to teach Lance an important lesson about being a go-go boy. I yanked down the front of my shorts and let my cock hang out, then grabbed it in my fist, stroking up and down the shaft. In front of me, Liam and Ken stood with their shorts tucked under their balls as they pumped with vigor.

I held back, loosening my grip just a bit, but still keeping it tight enough to stay hard and throbbing. I grunted and faked an impending climax, hoping it would give the other guys incentive to rush to completion.

The faking worked. Ken groaned and numerous rockets of hot, white cum launched from his cock. His load splattered on the tiled floor, like some abstract painter’s creation, a wad of it dropping on my toes.

“Sorry, Liam,” Ken said as he came down from that high of orgasm. I doubted Ken was actually sorry—he was definitely the bad boy of our trio. He drank, partied, and had a high-octane sex drive.

I looked at the cum on my feet and then winked at him. “Ken, you sick fucker. You can lick it off.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, then crossed his arms and watched Lance and I battle to the finish. I kept stroking, making my effort look convincing. Lance fixed me with his usual cocky stare. Lust glazed his eyes too, no doubt fuelled by the actions of his fist.

“Uhhh...” Lance groaned as his cock fired off a dozen good bullets of cum, showering across the diamond-tile floor. Fuck, he could shoot a mean load.

Lance had joined us three weeks ago and I didn’t know too much about him. He was a quiet jock, a much better fit than Aaron, the airhead twink who he’d replaced. Having a jock in our small group was good for bringing in more customers. Ken and I were well-toned and we all had boyish charm—it was part of the job, after all—but Lance’s body was hard and toned, and packed with an impressive array of muscle. And boy, could he dance.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped stroking until Ken said, “You planning on coming?”

I shrugged, letting go of my cock. “I don’t think it’s happening tonight...probably shouldn’t have tugged it this afternoon.”

Ken snorted. “Whatever.” He swiped a bead of cum from his dick and licked it off, then tugged up his shorts and headed to the staff bathroom to grab paper towels.

Lance and I pulled up our shorts too. I smiled at him, trying to give my best look of sheepish defeat.

“That was on purpose, wasn’t it?” He asked.

I leaned in close to him. “Yeah. Now, why do you think I did it?”

“Hmm...are you trying to teach me another one of your go-go boy secrets?”

I grabbed my thick bulge and gave it a shake for him. “See this?”

Lance looked down at my basket and bit his lip, then reached in his shorts and adjusted himself. “Mmm. I get it. Don’t come so you’ve got a bigger bulge.”

“The bigger the bulge, the bigger the tips, no matter where you dance. I’ll prove it to you. I plan to make a killing tonight. Tomorrow, you can try and do the same. I bet you’ll make more than your usual thirty-seven bucks.”

Ken came back with the paper towels and started wiping up the cum. He paused and looked up at us. I think he knew we had cut off a conversation upon his return. “Boys?”

I looked at Lance—he would keep a straight face if I lied. “We’re talking about bulges,” I said.

A wicked grin crossed Ken’s lips as he wiped more cum up from the floor, then from my foot. “Bulges are one of my favorite things to talk about.” He tossed the paper towels in the wastebasket. “Are we talking about a particular bulge?”

Lance looked as if he’d been caught red-handed with porn. “Liam’s.”

“Oh...in that case, that’s definitely a bulge I like.” Ken grabbed the front of my tight shorts, groping my cock and balls.

I swatted his hand away. “No touching unless you’re tipping. You know the rules.”

Ken laughed and swiftly turned around. He slapped my ass as he passed me. “I like your butt better than your bulge, anyway.”

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Going All The Way (Men In The Hot Room #3)

Instructor Brad has cute young Simon all to himself, and this time he has a lot more than yoga sex in mind.

Join this hot duo for more of their secret exploits as teacher gives his eager student a few surprises. Amidst lessons about submission and daring public displays of lust in the heart of Toronto's gay district, Brad takes Simon to levels of pleasure he's never imagined.

A fling that heated up in Go Deep and Go Deeper takes on a new flare as Brad dares to dream of more than just pleasure.

Going All The Way is a 10,000-word short story.

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Excerpt

They entered the hotel lobby and then the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Brad threw Simon against the mirrored wall and nuzzled his neck. Simon hugged him tight, pulling him closer, his rock-hard dick jutting against Brad’s thigh.

“Is this allowed under the rules, master?” Simon gasped.

“Fuck the rules.” Brad grabbed the boy’s woody cock and squeezed, then kissed Simon on the lips, a trace of warmth from the martinis lingering on his breath.

When the elevator dinged, they pulled apart. Brad took Simon by the hand and marched him down the hall. He wanted to run, to get to their room as fast as possible, but he had to hold it together, hold his domination over the boy...the game wasn’t over yet. His heart kicked at his ribs as he calmly inserted the keycard.

The door opened. Simon went through and Brad followed. The door closed behind them.

“Lock it,” Brad commanded his boy, and as the lock slid in place a dam of excitement erupted within. He pounced.

The act drove Simon against the door. Brad humped him and he humped back, feathered light kisses on Brad’s lips and neck.

“It’s tortured me to go without you,” Brad hissed. He fingered open the buttons on the boy’s shirt and ran his hands over Simon’s smooth chest and abs. “We’ve waited long enough—you’ve been such a good little slave boy. Now I have you...all to myself. Do you want your reward?”

Simon wrapped his arms tight around Brad’s neck, trying to get closer, deeper into his mouth. He thrust his hips upward, grinding his crotch against Brad’s. The boy wanted him just as bad and Brad was ready to unclothe him, to take him right here, right now. He so wanted to abandon his plans.

No. Bed.

Brad bent and picked up Simon, scooping his hands under the boy’s thighs, then carried him across the room. The king size mattress squeaked when Brad dropped the boy on it.

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Bathhouse Nights

In the bathhouse, anything is possible, especially at night when all the studs come out to play.

For cheerleader Daniel, his dream-come-true is a football jock named Justin, but no one in the bathhouse measures up, no matter how hard he tries to play pretend.

Justin is straight, of course. Aren't they all? There's no reason for Daniel to expect he'll score with him...until the night he spots him in the hot tub.

Bathhouse Nights is a 9,300-word short story.

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Excerpt

NOW
“I need you, Daniel. I need you to fuck me. I want you to be my first.”

This must be a trick, or maybe I’m hearing him wrong.

And then he kisses me. He presses his lips to mine and thrusts his tongue in my mouth. He crushes my smooth chest against his hairy pecs and I wilt in his arms.

This isn’t a trick. This is real. We’re in a bathhouse, we’re naked, and he’s groping me.

He lies back on the bed and pulls me with him.

“You want it?” I grate in his ear.

“Uh-huh,” he whispers, as though he’s not the one whose muscled arms are holding me captive.

He makes a husky sound and it drives me wild. I kiss him, I taste him; I run my tongue down his neck. He arches his back and moans, driving his crotch hard against mine.

THEN
The change room was an uncomfortable place for most guys on the cheerleading team. Macho football players crammed together in the small space, teasing and taunting us, sometimes stealing our underwear. They called us “queer” and “faggot” as they loitered buck naked, pretending to be “men”. But I loved it. I always crammed in with them as soon as I could, ignoring their insults while I secretly eyed their muscled nudity.

Today, though, was the third game of the season and the third straight loss for the team. Vicky was the leader of the girl cheerleaders, and I was the leader of the guys, so we had a meeting afterward to discuss how we could better motivate the players. When I finally entered the change room it was empty.

I yanked off my clothes and walked naked to the showers. I grabbed a clean towel, but paused by the laundry cart nearby. Though I might have missed the show, that didn’t mean I’d miss some action. Fuck, no. This was my favorite part.

I slung the clean towel over my shoulder and grabbed a dirty one from the cart, pressing it to my face, inhaling the sweaty stink of some random guy. My cock went stiff. I thought of that anonymous guy squeezing his ass cheeks together, the way his buns knotted with muscle each time.

Mmm. I kept sniffing. My hand found my dick and I jerked it, thinking of those cheeks parting for me. I’d lose my load in no time like this. It always worked.

The soft hiss of a shower hit my ears. I paused; someone was still here. I tossed the dirty towel back.

I tiptoed until I stood half behind the edge of the tiled wall, enough to see who was here, but enough to hide my hard-on.

I took in the yummy bulge of a hunk’s ass, soapy water cascading down its curves and along the crack. A guy’s ass mesmerized me, but the sculpted buns of a football jock drove me wild.

It took me a moment to register that this was Justin, captain of the football team—Vicky’s boyfriend. He was one of the players who was actually nice to me.

Justin. Oh, God, how I could go for Justin. I bit my lip, all but grinding my cock against the shower tile as I watched how the water flowed over his piles of muscle, how the soapy streams veined his ass.

He turned slightly, enough for me to view his side profile, but not enough for him to see me. Mmm—he was hot! His front was even more beautiful than his back. His pecs bulged, his torso tapered at the waist, his abs rippled; his dick and balls swung low and heavy between his legs.

“Hey.”

I looked up. Justin was staring right at me.

“Uh...hey.” I pretended I hadn’t been standing there spying his glorious package. I yanked the towel off my shoulder and folded it in front of me, hiding the boner I sported.

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Go Deeper (Men In The Hot Room #2)

Three weeks ago, Brad was seduced by Simon, a sexy young yogi twink. Every hot yoga class since then, he’s hoped the boy would return for another steamy encounter, but it seems their rendezvous was just a one-night stand.

When Simon does finally show up, though, it’s with a friend, a young man who’s just as hot, and they can’t keep their hands off each other. Brad is pissed and intends to humiliate the young men and put them in their place, but Simon and his friend have something else in mind.

In this sequel to Go Deep, a fling that started with an after-hours practice session now takes a new twist as shorts come off and sweat splatters the yoga mat. Brad goes deeper into his wildest fantasies, at the whim of not just one horny young man, but two - both with different ideas of how they want to make him their daddy.

Go Deeper is a 6,300-word short story.

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Excerpt

The flow of students trickled then stopped, and still there was no sign of Simon and Randy. No longer needing to hide his prominent bulge, Brad pushed himself to his feet and locked the front door. He double-checked that the women's room was empty, then walked down the hall to the men's.

What's taking them so long? A deep-seated ached pulsed through his groin--he need to jack off and he needed to do it soon.  As soon as those boys are gone...

The men's room was empty, but just as Brad left it, he heard voices on the other side of the hot room door.

"Fuck...aaaaw--that's it. Yeah...let me grind your ass.  Hard." The words were muffled, but still clear.

Brad touched the doorknob. He stilled his breathing, and brought his ear close.

"Harder, Randy--oh!  Harder."  That's Simon.

He couldn't hold himself back. Brad turned the handle slowly, then nudged the door open a fraction, enough for him to get a glimpse. Simon leaned on his hands and knees, spine arched down so that everything from his forehead to his chest touched the yoga mat beneath him. Randy kneeled behind, hands on Simon's hips as he humped at a fast rhythm. Both still wore their skimpy shorts.

Sweat rolled down their bodies, splattering on the mat below them. Randy grunted, leaning all his weight against Simon's deep crack, supported by the strength of Simon's curved lower back.

Jacking off to a free show beat imagination any day. Brad's heart pounded. He slipped his fingers beneath his waistband and caressed the head of his cock. Within seconds, his fingers were wet with precum.

"Oh, fuck, you're gonna make me cream." Randy screwed his eyes shut and grabbed Simon's shoulders, pulling his body in even harder. A shudder ran through his frame and he groaned with the sound of orgasm. When his body stilled, he let go of Simon's shoulders and stood up. "Suck me. Lick me clean."

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Gaymer

Since start of term, Carter has been secretly lusting after Zack, a quiet twink with smooth arms, geeky charm, and enticing proportions. When Zack invites himself over for retro video games, Carter waits and hopes, but the dreaded "game over" approaches. He has to do something -- anything -- to get a shot at tasting this delicious young man.

Out comes a strategy to save a gaming disaster. If Carter's wrong, he might get a black eye, but if he's right, then this session's about to level up to something better than his wildest fantasy.

Gaymer is a 3,900-word short story.

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Excerpt

“We’ve got to turn this around,” Zack says. He picks up his controller and gives the level another try.

Now I’m watching him and only him. I chew my lip, captivated by his gorgeous face, his rosy cheeks, his brown eyes behind his geeky glasses. God, he’s smoking hot, every bit of him.

Zack loses another life, and the game switches back to me. “You’re down to your last guy. After this, it’s over.”

Yeah, after this it’s over—both the game and Zack sitting next to me. Soon I’ll be alone, jacking off, wiping up my load with a pathetic wad of Kleenex. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead.

I hit pause.

Zack looks at me. His lips are moist after a fresh swig of pop. He looks so innocent, but his brown eyes gleam with something else…

My heart thumps. “I…”

Zack waits, doesn’t say a thing.

Fuck, this better work. “I have this fantasy.”

His lips part, glistening wet—plump, delectable lips. “What kind of fantasy?”

“I’ve…” Fuck, do it Carter. Do it! “I’ve always wanted to get blown while playing a video game. It’s weird, I know, but…”

He doesn’t reply. He just stares at me.

I chuckle awkwardly. “I’m just kidding, but, I mean…who knows? I’ve heard it works, on the internet…uhh…something like that. It’s supposed to relax you. But, uh, I don’t mean you have to blow me, I’m just saying it might work, or…fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying. It was supposed to be funny. Forget I said anything.”

Zack’s staring at me like he’s figuring out the quickest path to the door. He adjusts his glasses again, cheeks darkening with a blush. “If I blow you, then you have to blow me on my turn.”

I run through those words, over and over, trying to figure out if I misheard or if I’m missing the sarcasm or something. The more I replay the sentence, though, the clearer it becomes that Zack is serious. My cock leaks, my cheeks warm with their own blush, and my pulse pounds in my ears. I try to force everything down, to appear cool and calm, as if I hadn’t been dreaming of this moment for weeks now.

“Deal.”

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Go Deep (Men In The Hot Room #1)

Hot yoga instructor Brad finds a tantalizing surprise when he closes up his studio for the day. Simon, a young yogi twink, is waiting for him in the hot room, preparing for tomorrow's tournament. He asks for help, but soon Brad realizes this young man has a different sort of yoga in mind.

By the time they reach Poorna-Salabhasana, the hot room's not hot enough. Brad teaches Simon how to relax, take it slow, and go deep, and Simon discovers the secret to mastering yoga.

Go Deep is a 5,500-word short story.

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Excerpt

Simon licked his lips, then eased out of position. His erect cock protruded long and slender against his red spandex, threatening to poke its head above the waistband. Brad smiled daringly.

“What’s your optional asana?”

“Dandayamana-Bibhaktapada-Paschimotthanasana. But I might need your help.” An impish grin twisted the young man’s lips.

Brad’s heart thumped hard. “A good position—posture. Very well. How do you want me to help?”

In answer, Simon spread his legs wide, held his hands out at his sides, then folded forward at the waist. He wrapped a hand under each heel and brought his forehead to the floor effortlessly. He stared at Brad from between his legs.

“I need you to check that my posture is perfect.”

Brad moved closer, loving the sight of Simon’s ass high in the air, the cheeks spread wide, the spandex taut over the crevice between them. “How do you want me to help?”

“I need you to hold my hips.”

Brad moved closer, until the twink’s ass was so close the heat of it warmed his cock. He put his hands on Simon’s hips, stroking the spandex with his fingers. “Like this?”

“I think I need more support.”

Brad shuddered, biting his lip, hesitating only a moment before pressing his crotch against the crack of Simon’s ass. He groaned as his cock tingled.

“Mmmm… That’s it. A bit harder. I don’t want to fall.”

Brad obliged. He leaned forward, running his hands over the young man’s lower back, his fingers sliding over hot, wet skin. His cock throbbed with pleasure, fully excited, eager for release. “You might want to adjust your legs a bit, get them a bit straighter. It will give me more leverage.”

Simon shifted his legs, wiggling his ass and grinding it firmly against Brad’s dick. “Like this?”

Brad’s jaw slackened. “Yes. Perfect.” He slid his hands toward Simon’s hips again, one resting on each side. “I think you have this one down. Good work. You can rise.”

Simon spread his arms out and raised his torso all the way, then brought his legs together, squeezing his cheeks tight around Brad’s dick. Brad examined their reflection in the mirror, holding Simon’s hips tight. The boy’s cock now pulled his shorts away at the waist, creating a small gap.

They stood motionless, sweat trickling down their bodies. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Brad’s words were low and quiet. He held Simon’s gaze for several more moments, waiting. The young man didn’t say anything, didn’t quiver. Brad hesitated only a moment. Fuck, if I get fired for this, it’s worth it.

Opening his mouth, he found the back of Simon’s neck with his tongue, tasting him and his sweat. Simon let out a heady sigh. Brad relished the sight of him in the mirror, the way his eyelids fluttered and his lips parted—the way the haze of sex clouded his features. Brad ran his hands across Simon’s tight stomach, wrapped his arms around his slim form, and pulled him close. He thrust his pelvis forward, grinding his firm cock against the boy’s supple ass.

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