New Blurb & Excerpt: Loving Eden

Coming Soon From Breathless Press

March 2, 2012

Loving Eden
Lee Brazil 

Eden St. Cyr wants to let the boy who's crushing on him down easy. Drew Harris wants to protect his son from what he considers a disastrous relationship. Neither of them counted on being attracted to the other.

Eden St. Cyr has wandering feet.  He shuffles around the country from place to place and college to college, changing majors and lovers at whim. When Bailey Harris starts following him home, mooning around and showing signs of affection, Eden hatches a plan to let the kid down lightly before he leaves for the next semester, the next college, and the next lover.

Drew Harris is stunned at the changes in his son.  His responsible dependable, cheerful boy has become a moody despondent, irresponsible teenager. Drew knows exactly who to blame, too.  When Eden doesn’t' return his phone calls, he's forced to be a little more devious in his plans to get the bad influence out of his son's life.

An unexpected attraction derails both men from their plans, but when Bailey walks in at the least appropriate time, can things be put right?

Loving Eden 


"You're one of Bailey's friends? I'm Drew, his Dad." The man asked, reaching down and picking up Eden's back pack.
"Yes," He mumbled in reply, striving to fight down the shivers of arousal that rippled through him with the deep voice. The effect from the answering machine was magnified in person. That voice was a caress in itself, stroking over his body, making him tingle with awareness.
"Let me show you where you'll be sleeping. I'm putting you in with Bailey. Sorry I can't stay and talk, but I've got to get down to the market in town and pick up some supplies for our weekend."
Eden willingly followed the man into the house and down a short hallway. Bailey's dad opened a door and gestured into the room. "Here you go. People should be arriving soon, but I hope to be back before anyone else gets here."
Eden stepped up to the doorway inadvertently brushing against that hard muscled body as he did so. Heat seared through his thin T-shirt and gooseflesh prickled his arms. He bit his lip to keep the moan inside, just nodding his head, too afraid that his arousal would show to speak. He ducked his head and made to move into the room, when a hard warm hand closed around his upper arm. He found himself turned to face Bailey's dad, and looked up into puzzled blue eyes.
"We'll talk later, yes?" The man asserted. Eden was trapped in the depths of those deep blue eyes and unable to utter a response. A big, calloused hand came up to cup Eden's jaw, thumb rubbing gently over the two-day growth of beard he hadn't bothered to shave. Shaking his head, Drew began to speak again but then his head tilted slightly to the side and his lips came down. Eden caught his breath in surprise. Surely Bailey's dad wasn't going to kiss him?
But he was. Warm dry lips pressed to his own briefly, sliding a little to the side, nipping lightly at his own lower lip. The gentle kiss swept right across his mouth in a brief warm touch that left him craving more. It had barely begun before Drew pulled away. Wow. Pressing his fingers to his still tingling lips, Eden stared after the handsome man who'd shown him his room. Definitely scrapping plan A for this weekend.


Crawl in Bed With Dawne Prochilo

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?

These are 1500 count Egyptian cotton...the finest of the finest for me (gentle runs her fingernail along Lee's chin). When I have a visitor to my sanctuary, I want the softest most luxurious material caressing my skin.

*gulps* Uhm...What are you wearing?

My usual writing attire- a pair of cotton running shorts, a camisole and (giggles) not much else. I must be comfy when in my refuge and preparing to stir up my muse.

*Blinks* Oh, yes...comfortable...That's exactly what I was thinking, you look comfortable. What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?

Mmm... basil flavored gourmet wafer crackers and smoked cheddar cheese with a glass of Chardonnay. Oops, careful there Lee (reaches over, touches a crumb on his lower lip), wouldn't want crumbs in the bed. That can be very messy.

*blushes*  Oh, sorry... yeah don't want to make a mess.  *looks around for distraction* If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?

(Bats Lee's hand away and giggles) Oh, you mustn't go in there. That is the haven for all my 'special' visitors when I get lonely. Oh, Heaven's sake...would you like a demonstration?

*eyes widen*  Demonstration?  Seriously?  *Looks over shoulder* I would so get my ass kicked if I said yes.  So, er...do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?

I am trashy in bed...(blushing) what I mean is that, I start out all snuggled in with a “huggie” pillow and by morning Bed Trashing Gremlins must visit me (damn them for not waking me up for the fun) and the sheets are twisted, sometimes even flung off the bed and my pillows, which I must have at least six, are scattered all over the bedroom. It's almost like a pillow fight occurred and I missed it.

*whispers* trashy in bed? *Shake my head* I mean, Bed Trashing Gremlins? I've never met any of those. Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?

Oh Goodness...the calves are permissible but don't you dare inch your way up further...no further...not quite there yet, further up...yes, there (moans and squirms in the bed). That's the spot. You must never go up that far (moans again).

I see,  okay- well, I'll make a note of just how far I can go. *snuggles* What are we reading?

Oh this (flips through her print book) this is one of my 2011 releases and my favorite book called When We Meet Again.

Excerpt- When he got in the truck he asked, "So, where to?"
"Hmmm," she thought, nibbling on her lower lip. "Not much to do around here."
He started the truck, "Well, we’ll find something."
As he pulled out of the parking lot, Brynn remembered a park on the other side of the town and directed Ethan where to go. It was dark and the park was empty, so they parked near the entrance.
He removed his seatbelt. She followed suit and readjusted herself to be more comfortable. She turned to face him and sat with her legs bent beneath her.
She could still make out the contour of his face even though it was dark. Even though she could barely see his eyes, she knew they were gazing at her. She shifted a little and Ethan leaned in and kissed her. He placed his hand under her cheek and his fingers entwined with her hair at the nape of her neck. He pulled her closer to him and into the heated moment.
His mouth was so sensual she could’ve stayed here forever. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she inhaled with exhilaration. She met each of his tongue strokes with a feverish desire of her own tongue.
She leaned over the center console of the front seat and wrapped her arms around his neck. The kisses were becoming so deep and intense that before Brynn knew it, she was sitting on his lap in the front seat. She needed to be closer. His arms wrapped around her waist and she was running her fingers through his hair.
"You can’t be very comfortable," he said when their lips finally parted.
"I’m fine," she said breathlessly and swallowed.
"Are you sure?" he asked, trying to reposition to give her more room. He put his arm under her bent knees that were dangling over the console into the passenger seat. He tried to pull her body more onto his lap.
"I’m fine, really," she said, smiling in the darkness.
"What are we doing?" he asked her. "Are we going to stay here, park and make out all night?"
Just then a vehicle coming up the street shined its lights on them. She squinted at the bright intrusion.
"Not exactly a lot of privacy here," he said holding his free hand up to shield the car’s lights from her vision.
"So I’ve noticed," she smiled. "Well, I guess it depends on how much privacy we need."
She kept running her fingers through his hair and he laid his head back on the headrest. He shut his eyes enjoying the tranquil moment and arousing caress.
"Oh, babe, that feels so good," he moaned and began lovingly stroking his hands over her waist. His hand was under her cotton shirt, touching her flesh. It felt so warm and smooth; Ethan thought he’d lose himself in her softness.
"I’ve been thinking about this night and moment forever," she admitted and stopped touching his hair. "It’s almost surreal."
He raised his head and looked at her. She appeared so innocent, with a hint of alluring charm. Her presence captivated him.
For a moment, Ethan was twenty-four years younger and they were up on Hannaford Hill. Her soft body and sexuality hadn’t changed, it became more enhanced, and he felt his own enhancement growing in his jeans. He shifted again.


Welcome Guest: Diane Hartsock

A Gorgeous Set of Eyes

Hi Lee! Thanks for having me as a guest on your lovely blog today. But what better place to be during this month of romance than here? Don’t you all agree? When you’re done with my post, be sure to take a few minutes to look around. Lot’s of yummies to be found here.

Now grab a coffee and sit down. I have the most delicious story to tell you! Oh, and there’s a give-away. I’ll get to that later.

I was at work messing with the flowers, as usual—minding my own business, I might add!—when they walked in, the most gorgeous set of eyes I’ve ever seen. I’d never thought it was a true expression before, but my jaw actually dropped. I think I grinned like an idiot, too, but I don’t think anyone saw me.

See, I’m all flustered again! Let me start at the beginning. I’m the floral designer for a novelty garden and gift shop. I’d just finished an arrangement for a customer and was cleaning up my mess when this sexy six foot gorgeous hunk of a blond walks up to my counter. I blink, dazzled, when he flashes me a thousand watt smile, you know the kind that makes you forget who you are for a second?

He explained that he and his partner were looking for a gift for a friend. Partner? I didn’t see… But then I did and lost track of mister blond-god for a minute. His boyfriend wasn’t much taller than my 5’ 8”, but his blue jeans hugged him, oh so nicely! And the dark grey sweater molded lean muscles and a smooth stomach.

I groaned in silent frustration. The silky black hair that swept his shoulders also hid his eyes. I have a thing for eyes. His glance at me was too quick to see their color, and I had to be content with watching his lips as he handed blondie a cup of tea from the tea bar. They spoke softly while I contemplated the contrast of white skin softly blushed from the cold outside and full, pouty pink lips you want to kiss just to see if they’re as soft and sweet as they look.

They came to a decision and ordered the flowers they liked, then wandered the store for a gift while I put their selection of tropicals together in a vase. I couldn’t help but watch them. They were adorable! I don’t want to say the sexy blond hovered over his man, but they were never more than six steps apart. It was more like the dark beauty was the most precious thing in his life. He’d bring over things for his lover to look at. Touch his shoulder and reach something off a high shelf for him. Ah me, true love is beautiful to see, isn’t it?

When they came to collect their flowers, the dark haired dream finally looked at me. God…damn! His eyes were a clear sapphire blue, intense, amazing eyes that flashed across the room and nailed me to the floor. Wild fancies filled my head. What would those eyes be like blazing with passion; or soft and sated, dark hair spilled on the pillowcase… I tell you true, if I were twenty years younger and a man I would have given blondie a run for his money! I no longer blamed him for hovering. If those eyes affected me like that, what must they do to anyone who stood a chance at him? Wow.

I told you I had a thing for eyes! And that’s my segue into the reason for my post. In my m/m erotic romances, Nevil has just such a pair of gorgeous eyes and Shelton finds them just as irresistible. And what better way to spend this special month than curled up with your lover reading a sweet romance?

To help you do that, I’m giving away a PDF copy of any book in my ‘Shelton’ series to a commenter who tells me who, in their life, has the most beautiful eyes they’ve ever seen. I don’t need names! Just describe them to me.

Thanks so much for stopping by! Feel free to contact me any time.

Dianne Hartsock

Shelton in Love

Shelton is falling hard for his best friend and roommate, finding Nevil’s dark good looks and moments of gentleness almost impossible to resist. But Nevil is more interested in affairs of the body than the heart. As Shelton’s desire for the man grows, he wonders if he can change Nevil’s mind. But does he even want to? Nevil might not stay, once he learns Shelton’s secret, and then his loneliness would be complete.

Shelton’s Promise

Shelton has a gift he’s eager to give to Nevil. At a party, Nevil flirts with one man after another, keeping Shelton on his toes. Then Percy, an ex, shows up to complicate things. Despite his best efforts, Shelton can’t find the right moment to give Nevil his gift. Will Nevil ever let Shelton get close to him, or will Shelton have to keep the gift in his pocket all evening?

Shelton’s Choice

After a year of bliss with Nevil, Shelton is offered the promotion he's been working toward at the bank. Unfortunately the new position is in another state, and Nevil doesn't want to move. As tension mounts between them, Shelton is given another challenge in the form of a besotted coworker. Torn between the pressures at work and at home, Shelton has to choose his future. That is, until Nevil takes the decision out of his hands.

Excerpt from Shelton’s Choice:

"What's that?" he asked sharply when a soft burr filled the room. He bit his lip. He knew that sound. He'd been mesmerized the times he'd watched Nevil use one. He'd even participated a time or two, holding Nevil's shuddering body in his arms as Nevil came with a shout of abandoned pleasure.
He'd been hesitant to try it himself, though. He sighed, embarrassed by his timidity. Nevil caressed his hot face and leaned close for a sweet kiss.
"You're such a delight to make love to," Nevil murmured as if reading his thoughts. "Trust me. This'll blow your mind."
Shelton drew in a lungful of air and let it out slowly, relaxing his muscles. He heard a click, and the humming of the vibrator stopped. Nevil's quick breathing filled the room, and Shelton smiled at the sound of his excitement.
"Now where did I put the lube...? Oh, yes."
Nevil moved on the bed, and Shelton heard him fumble with the nightstand. The mattress sagged again, and Shelton held his breath as Nevil blew cool air over his penis, hard and ready for their games.
"God, Nevil," he groaned as Nevil continued to tease him, flicking his tongue along his aching shaft. He cried out in surprise when Nevil licked the tip. Slippery fingers pushed against his hole and slid inside him. Shelton squirmed blissfully as Nevil stroked the sensitive tissue.
The fingers withdrew, and Shelton caught his bottom lip with his teeth as he felt a strange pressure against his hole—not unpleasant, just different. Nevil must have used plenty of lubricant, because there was little resistance as he carefully inserted the head. A tingle spread through him as Nevil pushed the vibrator in deeper, creating little ripples of pleasure.
Nevil slid the device in and out several times, then rotated it. God! "Nevil! I can't..."
"I think we found the spot," Nevil murmured gleefully. "Do you like it there?"
"I don't..." Shelton groaned loudly, arching his back as Nevil nudged the vibrator in farther, then turned it on. Intense pleasure instantly swamped Shelton's senses.
"A little faster?" Nevil urged, his voice sounding thick.
Shelton helplessly tossed his head. "I don't know."
Nevil did something, and a feeling bordering on ecstasy burst in Shelton's brain. He couldn't think as waves of bliss danced along his nerves.
"Nevil," he whimpered as his balls tightened, the pressure building toward climax. His body twitched, and he pushed his hips downward against the vibrator. He cried out, on the verge of coming, the exquisite pleasure of the vibrator almost painful against his prostate.
Then Nevil's hot mouth engulfed his penis, and it was all over. Shelton came in one quick thrust, his hips rising off the pillow. The orgasm went on and on, shattering him. He panicked slightly as a buzzing grew in his head. His lips tingled then went numb.
"Take a breath, dear.”

Welcome Guest: Johnny Miles

Hey, today I am pleased to welcome talented writer and fellow coffee addict, Johnny Miles to my blog! Johnny has written what is one of my all time favorite books, Casa Rodrigo, and if you haven't read it yet, you are missing out!

But, Johnny is here to talk about something I spend a bit of time ruminating on ...Reality in Fiction.

After Loose Id released my second male/male romance I received a unique compliment from Bryan Murphy, a friend, reader, actor and performer. He said he enjoyed reading “Lauderdale Hearts” because the characters and their situations were real to him. They were believable and thus, Bryan was able to accompany Blake and Ricky on their journey to falling in love.
         Now, I know many people who would prefer to immerse themselves in something that’s purely escapist whether it’s television, movies or books. I understand the reason for it as well as the need. After all, I like escapism as well. Between watching Doctor Who, The Lord of The Rings Trilogy, and devouring all of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books, I can relate with the need for escape. That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for reality within that escape. As long as it rings true for me I can follow and enjoy the romp, no matter what genre.
         As I writer, however, the problem for me is in believing not only the characters, but the premise as well. I need to understand the circumstances and feel as if I myself were, or could be, in that situation. I need to be sucked into the drama as if it were my own. I need to be moved and compelled by the adversity that’s befallen my characters. Most importantly, realistically speaking, I need to know something about the topic or character of which I’m writing.
         Perhaps this is the reason why I was so surprised when, after mapping out “The Rosas of Spanish Harlem” chapter by chapter, it turned on me; even after it had already morphed, 27 years ago, from the story of a young Latino male to a caucasian and then to an 18-year-old high school graduate who likes to dress in girl’s clothing. It’s about as alien to me as trying to imagine myself in rich, conservative, religious middle America.
         “The Rosas of Spanish Harlem” was never meant to see the light of day. It was an experiment in learning to let go and tap into the subconscious so that I might work on the next story unfettered. It was meant strictly for me, for getting off. It was intended to be nothing but pure smutty stroke material. Instead, it turned into a pleasant surprise with an unexpected outcome. What was even more surprising is that, after submitting the story for consideration, Loose Id said yes.
         “Rosas” doesn’t fit the typical romantic arc expected in this genre. In fact, the story was described as “porn noir” and accepted for publication with the understanding that it was a radical departure for my publisher.
         I don’t really know if “The Rosas of Spanish Harlem” will ring true to anyone. I hope it does. Especially to those who feel the need to dress in women’s clothing. I’d hate to think I made light of someone’s fetish or lifestyle.

         Ironically, all I needed was some escape but, in that escape, what I found was something that, hopefully, might be someone’s reality.

Buy Link: Buy Link: http://www.loose-id.com/The-Rosas-of-Spanish-Harlem.aspx

An Excerpt from Johnny Miles's The Rosas of Spanish Harlem

Brighton Beach was practically empty when I climbed the steps from the street up to the boardwalk. I could have walked beneath it, but that was something I usually left as a treat for myself at the end of the day. After spending hours baking in the sun, it was refreshing to sink my toes into the cold damp sand beneath the elevated walkway.
In a way, it was mysterious, foreboding, and exciting. If I was lucky, a guy would stand still long enough for me to look up the inside of his shorts between the cracks and gaps of wood. If I was really lucky, he’d have no underwear on. Not that they were aware, mind you. It was just one of those happy accidents where you happened to be at the right place at the right time. In fact, if any of them knew about the pervy boy ogling their stuff, they’d probably chase after me and beat me to a pulp. Brooklyn men weren’t exactly known for being gay-friendly. At least not in public.
The other thing that intrigued me about walking beneath the boardwalk was all the litter. It consisted mostly of shattered glass bottles and empty cans. Every once in a while, you’d come across a syringe or a used tampon. But the one thing you could
always count on were used condoms—lots of them. I’d think of all that cock, all those people out there having sex, enjoying themselves, having a good time connecting.
I was hungry for the same thing.
Once I stumbled upon a condom that looked as if it had only recently been used. It had been stretched out quite a bit, and I was so intrigued I picked up it gingerly between thumb and forefinger and held it up. I was astonished at how much cum there was in there.
Unfortunately, the boardwalk could also be dangerous. More than once I’d seen homeless people hanging out. That wasn’t bad, because all they’d ask for was money; it was the group of older boys that scared, yet excited me. I had this fantasy that they would stop me, accost me, toss me around for a bit, then strip me naked in a playful manner and have their way with me.
In reality, what could happen to me was nothing like what I envisioned, and none of it had to do with sex.
Despite the dangers, the thought of feasting my young, horny eyes on a big pair of balls and a thick, meaty cock made me feel even hornier than I already was. I pushed my thoughts away and took in the last few moments of silence before the crowds came; the shop owners hadn’t opened up yet to hawk their wares and even the seagulls seemed hesitant to molest the quiet.
In the distance, to my right, Coney Island beckoned with all its gaudiness and tacky amusement rides. I used to love going there as a child. Any other time, and I would have stayed on the train two more stops—end of the line—but after the argument that morning, I preferred the quieter end of things.
I crossed the boardwalk to the beach side and drank in the vast expanse of ocean. The ocean breeze caressed my skin, and I inhaled the salty air deep into my lungs. All the tension I’d felt earlier seemed to evaporate.
Yes, this is definitely where I need to be today.
The only other people around were the city workers and the dirty old men—most of them Eastern European immigrants who sat on the benches all day, facing the ocean to ogle whatever it was that caught their fancy through the binoculars strapped around their necks.
Overhead, a rogue seagull screeched and hovered nearby, daring to break the silence and beg for scraps. It pulled me out of my reverie. With a peaceful sigh, I gripped the metal railing and made my way down the stairs, onto the sand.
To my right, a big, beefy black janitor with a shiny, bald head whistled, glancing from side to side as he unlocked the public men’s room, then disappeared inside with a metal bucket on wheels and a large mop with a dirty head.
I trudged along the beach, sand between the bottom of my feet and the flip-flops I wore, until I found the spot. I shrugged the oversize canvas bag from my shoulder. I pulled out one of my old cum-stained sheets from my twin bed and shook it. It fluttered in the breeze, flapping like a flag before finally falling gently to the sand, where I anchored it with a flip-flop at either corner. Then I placed the bag at the top corner, to my right. I pulled out the thermos filled with grape soda and propped it at the other corner, burying it a little in the sand.
Satisfied, I pulled out my towel and made a pillow out of it as the surf began to churn a bit more urgently. I pulled off my bloodred tank top then undid the top button of my cut-off jean shorts. They fell to my ankles.
I imagined one or two of the old geezers on the boardwalk, sitting on their bench, binoculars glued to their eyes as they trained on my slim, lithe body.
Eat your hearts out, I thought and bent over dramatically to step out of my shorts. I envisioned the old men leering and licking their sandpapery, wrinkled lips as I stood up straight, hands on hips.
I still wore my sister’s pink panties.
With a nasty, playful glee at whomever—if anyone—was watching me, I plopped down on the sheet and proceeded to apply baby oil to every inch of exposed flesh. Then I leaned on one elbow, and after fiddling with my transistor radio—using only my fingertips to avoid getting too much oil on the dials—I found the AM music station I liked. My favorite song was on. “Afternoon Delight” by the Starland Vocal Band.

Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tightgonna grab some afternoon delight.My motto’s always been: when it’s right, it’s right.Why wait until the middle of a cold, dark night.

Half humming, half singing, I lay down, closed my eyes, and was soon asleep under the hot, prickly sun.
* * * *
Voices carried on the wind. A woman giggled. There were soft whispers, and a man laughed. Something about them made me stir. I could tell they were young but still a little older than me.
“No, papi. Stop it. I already told you. Not here.”
“Aw, c’mon, baby. Who’s gonna see?” The man was cajoling, somewhat syrupy. He definitely wanted something.
Roll your bod! Roll your bod!” This from the radio, which was fading. The nine-volt battery was dying.
I came awake and slowly rolled over, realizing I’d probably been asleep longer than I should have been. Tomorrow I’d have a real nice sunburn.
I looked up slowly, discreetly. A young Puerto Rican couple lay on a blanket about 10 feet away from me.
The woman was a typical Latina: big boobs, wide hips, a sensual mouth. She looked to be in her early twenties. Her wavy black hair blew in her face. She reached for it, pulled it from her mouth, and tucked it behind her ear.
The man was about twenty-four, and his skin was the color of caramel. His body was lean, toned, and perfectly smooth. His hair was black, and he wore it tight to his scalp. I got the impression he was quite a charmer. How else could he get away with calling her babe or mami?
It was obvious to me they were doing their best to keep their voices low, but they might as well have been talking out loud. Their whispers carried in the wind, and I could hear them as clearly as if they were beside me.
I propped my chin on folded arms and closed my eyes to slits so it would appear as if I were still sleeping. It helped that my hair was loose and wind-tossed, covering half my face.
The young man’s fingers tugged at the side of the tiny triangular patch of cloth covering his girlfriend’s pussy.
“Angel, no! Stop it, papi!”
She slapped his hand, but I could tell she was just as aroused as he was. I could sense that all he had to do was push a little harder and he’d soon get what he wanted.
Pulse racing, my small cock now fully erect, I ground into the sand to readjust myself and continued watching them.
Angel succeeded in pulling the material of her bathing suit to one side and exposed her shaved pussy. I gulped and found myself inexplicably thirsty quite suddenly.
“Papi, no. Please.” She hissed, then moaned as Angel inserted his fingers into her pussy. A small sound escaped my throat, as if I could feel what he was doing to her. He cast a glance in my direction, and I froze. After a moment, satisfied they weren’t being watched, Angel turned his attention back to the girl lying on her side before him.
She parted her lips and threw her head back, eyes closed. Angel chuckled. There was something lewd, sexy, and seductive about it.
I watched him wriggle his fingers inside her, pumping them in and out a few times before pulling out completely and sucking on them, one finger at a time. Then he brought them back down between her legs, finger fucked her some more, and pulled them out only to insert them in her mouth. She slurped on them noisily, greedily.
And all I could do was imagine I was her.
“You’re so fucking wet!” Angel whispered, his voice carrying on the wind.
Ahhh! You’re such a pig, Angel!” Although she complained, she did nothing to stop him. “Don’t you ever get enough?”
In response, Angel pulled his fingers out of her pussy, then reached for the waistband of his black Speedos. Out flopped a large, fat, uncut cock. My eyes bugged out at the sight of him casually stroking the thick, meaty shaft in the open.
I briefly wondered if any of the old buggers on the benches could see what I was watching, and suddenly realized why they had those binoculars. For unexpected moments like this.
Mira, mami,” Angel said. She glanced down at his cock and chewed her lower lip. “See what you do to me?”
He pulled the foreskin back, exposing the head. He looked even wetter than she did as he rubbed the tip up and down her fleshy folds. She moaned. Slowly, Angel slipped his cock inside her, filling her completely one glorious inch at a time as he placed a hand on her ass and pulled her hips closer.
Angel had stopped glancing around by this point, and I doubt either of them cared anymore if anyone was looking. With the length of his cock inside her pussy, they started to kiss.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.
“Shhh! It’s okay, baby. No one’s looking. Besides, there’s only a few people nearby.”
“What about that girl?”
“What girl?” Angel asked. I blushed at the realization she was talking about me.
“That girl. Down there.” She raised her leg slightly and pointed toward me with her toes. I remained perfectly still, hair in my face. I closed my eyes just in case, grateful I’d rolled over onto my stomach. I might have a small dick, but an erection is an erection, and I’d have given myself away. Not to mention that I probably wouldn’t be able to see what was happening as well as I could now.
“Honey, she’s sunning herself topless. You think she’s gonna care if we’re fucking out in the open?”
Seconds later I heard slurping noises. I dared to open my eyes and looked up to see them kissing. Their hips gently rocked to and fro. Their movement was barely perceptible, but it was apparently enough to cause the right amount of friction. One of them sighed, the other gasped.
Unable to believe what was happening, I could feel precum oozing from my cock as if it were a small faucet with a leak.
Soon she was moving back and forth more quickly than he was. I could see a bit more of the underside of his shaft; it looked slick and wet from sweat and pussy juice.
My pulse was pumping in my head and my dick was throbbing as I continued to watch. I longed to crawl on my hands and knees between their legs and lick them both, but I fought the urge.
A bit more brazen now that he was lost in the excitement, Angel rolled the girl over, moving with her without pulling out. Now on her back, she spread her legs and placed her hands on his ass. He corkscrewed discreetly, pushing in and pulling out of her ever so slightly. His hip movement would’ve been easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. But I could tell. His ass cheeks dimpled as he ground into her; I could see the hollows even through his bathing suit.
As I watched them fuck, I pressed my own erection into the sand, moving my hips from side to side. I was close.
The girl suddenly gave a single, soft moan, and her entire body shuddered. Seconds later, Angel sighed, and I followed with a load of my own.
My heart was in my throat, and although I’d just come, I was now hornier than ever. My pulse raced and hormones raged. What with having just watched the couple before me, the heat of the sun, and the sound of the surf, I could barely control myself. In that moment I understood how someone might become so frantic with desire they’d pounce on the first person they saw without thought or regard to consequence.
Fuck first; ask questions later. That pretty much summed up what I was feeling.
At that moment, even though I didn’t like girls, I’d have gladly eaten her pussy just to get a taste of him. Of course, I would have preferred to suck him and sample the juices from his foreskin, but there was no chance of that happening, no matter how much I wanted it.
Frustrated, I rolled over, stood up, and raced into the ocean. I imagined myself as a red-hot poker, glowing while steam rose as I submerged myself. A moment later, I burst through the surface and bobbed in the water as my breathing went back to normal.
I’ve just got to get my hands on some dick. Oh, please! I’m so fucking horny!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I glanced toward the beach and saw Angel stand. Even from that distance, I could see him reach inside the pouch of his suit and readjust himself. He swaggered as he walked toward the ocean and, even though he was now soft, I could see the outline of his cock as he drew near. His balls looked to be huge, round, and smooshed up against either side of the now soft length of meat.
Obsessed with Angel, his cock, and the image of him fucking, I decided to leave the beach. I could no longer stay there. I had to get off, and masturbating alone wouldn’t satisfy me. I simplyhad to find cock! But where? How? It wasn’t the kind of thing they taught you in school. Then it hit me.
I know. I’ll go under the boardwalk.
With all those used condoms I kept finding, I was bound to run into someone horny enough who didn’t care whether he got a blowjob from a boy or a girl. But would there be anybody there at this hour, cruising around and looking for trouble?
I clambered out of the water, walked back to my spot, and quickly packed up my stuff.
© Johnny Miles, January 2012
All Rights Reserved

Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955