Sex in the Sky

One mystery is solved.

Jamie clutched both envelopes to his chest. He’d been holding them like that the whole time–all the way from the bank to his house–but he couldn’t seem to make himself let go. He was afraid to open them. For now, those letters were a silent link to Ben. If he opened either missive and found proof that the money was dirty–as Dillon seemed sure it was–Jamie knew that link would be shattered.

Dillon pulled into Jamie’s drive. “We’re here.”

Jamie nodded. “Thanks, Dillon.”

Dillon hesitated, then finally said, “What are you gonna do about the money?”

The seduction of male bonding.

*Chapter 01: John*

Why had he left the photograph there, standing right there in a leather frame on the dresser top? More important, why was the photograph here at all? I had gone into his room to put his things together so they could take them down to Hayden along with the body, and there it was.

To some extent the whole success of the Wolf Creek Ranch had hinged on J. Harvey Kincaid’s patronage and good will. He had been coming to Wolf Creek for as long as I could remember. And where J. Harvey Kincaid went, everyone else of note followed. He was the pied piper of world literature, an icon of unique proportions.

Do or die, shit or get off the pot time.

“This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me - all E-mails will be answered to the best of my ability.

I would like to thank all of you that wrote and told me how much you like the story. Keep the letters coming and send in a donation to the site you are reading this on. Special thanks to L.D.”

You better be nice to employees!

I had just received some money in a will from an uncle I hardly knew. At 22 years old, I knew nothing about investing money but, was getting advice from all my friends on how to earn a good financial return. At the time, the safest and easiest thing to do with the money was to flip a house. So after watching the housing market for a couple of months, I settled on a small fixer upper. The house I found listed for 32 thousand, well within my budget and leaving me about half of my inherited will money left for improvements.

Learning special wrestling techniques.

I was nearing the end of the fourth group lesson on self-defense techniques at the store-front gym under the instruction of a heavily muscled Syrian wrestler named Anwar, when he took me aside and, after telling me he thought I’d make a natural wrestler, asked me if I’d like to stay after class and have him demonstrate some holds to me. I had admired his massive build—a bodybuilder’s barrel chest, huge arm and leg muscles, bulbous but firm butt, and tiny waist—and, although I was pretty well built myself, I figured if I could build up to anything like him by developing wrestling techniques, I was game to have a go at it. I saw how all the women students—and some of the men too—licked their lips when they took in his light-brown, hairy body and his rugged, yet handsome features.

A military man learns to take it, including from his son.

For an instant, I could think clearly: “What the fuck have you let yourself in for, man?? Your mouth is in a big ‘O’, a man’s cock is down your throat (the same cock that fucked you on the jogging trail), and you just caught the guy in your house using that cock to fuck your son!

It’s true, damn, it’s true.” I clenched my eyes shut in shame. “Have to admit it: I want the sonofabitch to fuck *me.* Again.” I closed my eyes and saw it all: “Mounting me like a bitch, his cock-hungry slave, skewering me, roasting me on that big, hard spit. Oh, yeah, he fucked me before. And I want it again”.