Wrestling Within - Morning Wake up Sex

Hey everyone: 

Started the next chapter of the third Wrestling Within book and Derek and Scott decided wake-up sex was in order. Enjoy! 

The next morning Derek and Scott had a class together. Music was one of Derek’s passions and Scott had electives to complete, so he decided to learn a bit about Derek’s talent. Maybe he’d even be able to give a shot at mixing himself if he learned enough.

Stretching his arms above his head, Scott savored the way his muscles strained in protest before shaking the remnants of sleep. His cock was straining in his boxers. The fact he had a clear view of Derek’s twin only served to fuel his horniness.

Slipping his hand along Derek’s abdomen, he wriggled his fingers under the waistband of snug briefs, deftly wrapping his slender fingers around Derek’s heated mast. Derek groaned and arched his hips into Scott’s hand, then cleared his throat. “Morning.”

“More like morning glory.” He felt a smile slip across his face as devilish thoughts filtered into his head. Leaning into Derek’s neck, he brushed air-light kisses on the soft skin, trailing a path down to his collarbone, down his chest and stomach, until his cheek nestled against Derek’s naval.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the rustic scent of sweat and arousal, then worked the barrier of fabric down Derek’s legs until they bunched at the foot of their bed. There was no instinct to draw his longing out, nor Derek’s

In one smooth motion, he swallowed Derek’s cock all the way to the base, delighting in the mixture of salt and semen stimulating his taste buds. He traveled up and down Derek’s length, each trip causing the vein at the back of Derek’s shaft to thicken and pulse.

When the first droplet of precome entered Scott’s mouth, his reserves burst. Releasing his prize, he slid back up Derek’s body and captured him in a heated kiss.

Derek tried to withdraw. “Scott. Morning breath. Yuck.”

“Does my breath stink? Shit.” He hadn’t considered that Derek would complain after waking to a blow job.

“No. My breath. I feel like a skunk crawled up another skunks ass and farted in there.” He smiled, but covered his mouth.

More determined than ever, Scott crawled on top of Derek, straddling his waist. “Do you think I give a shit about that?” He leaned down and kissed Derek once again, reaching behind him so he could fondle the hardened length of flesh brushing against his ass.

More precome adorned the crown and he used the slickness to coat Derek’s dick, then rubbed it against his own hole. Without speaking, he shifted his weight and sank onto Derek until the head popped through his tight ring of muscle. The burn only lasted a second, followed by blissful electricity flowing through him.

Derek gasped, but made no move to stop him.

Encouraged, Scott lowered his weight, stopping every inch or so to adjust to the stretch, then continuing his journey. When he finally seated himself against Derek’s pelvis bone, he paused, luxuriating in the sense of fullness and connection.

Derek’s eyes were closed and his lips pulled into a dream-like smile. Normally, Scott insisted they maintain eye contact during sex, but this morning wasn’t about tenderness. He wanted to feel Derek inside him, rough and manly, until he blew his load all over that beautifully toned chest. Or maybe he’d straddle Derek’s neck and come all over his face. He wouldn’t know until the moment was upon him, but the possibilities were endless.

Derek began to buck up in tandem with Scott’s rocking, rutting against his sweet spot with each stroke. It didn’t take long for Derek’s breath to become ragged and then his eyes to squint with that ecstatic sense of euphoria which always preceded a massive orgasm.

“Scott. Not gonna be able to―” He couldn’t even finish his sentence as his cock expanded even more inside of Scott, jutting inside him with each pulse of his release. Gargled sounds emitted from somewhere deep inside Derek’s chest as he fought to contain the shout itching to fill the room. Sweat formed on his chest and pooled in the crevice between his pectoral muscles, the rest of his skin shining with moisture.

Heat filled Scott from the inside out, and each movement of Derek’s body sent his head reeling with pleasure until his own limits were reached.

Raising himself, he felt the fullness of semen and come filling his ass. He slid up Derek’s body and straddled his neck, not recalling having decided to do so, and gripped his own cock in his right hand, stroking it feverishly as his orgasm built up inside.

Derek tilted his head up and opened his mouth, a clear invitation for what he wanted Scott to do.

All too willing to oblige, Scott angled his cock so the head pointed directly towards Derek’s awaiting lips just as the first wave of his orgasm his. The first gush of come coated Derek’s lips, the bulk splashing against his cheek. Derek gripped Scott’s ass and pulled him closer, wrapping his lips around Scott’s cock and swirled his tongue around the over-sensitized skin just under the crown.

The heat brought on a new rush of need and Scott’s body bucked a few more times, unleashing more of his fluid into Derek’s mouth. Once the waves subsided, he slid down Derek’s body and licked the stray ropes of white liquid from Derek’s cheek, then sealed their mouths together in a sloppy kiss.

Derek slid one hand behind Scott’s neck, holding him in place, as he ran his tongue in circles inside Scott’s mouth. They kissed for what felt like several minutes, the pungent flavor of their essence fueling another hard-on from both of them.

With the sense of urgency sated, Scott, slid into a more comfortable position, his head resting on Derek’s chest. “Well, that was a great way to wake up.”

Derek laughed weakly. “Don’t I know it? Now if I can get my legs to move, we can shower and then grab some breakfast and head to class.”

Meant For Him - - coming soon

Hey folks.

After almost a year of nothing, I've finally come out from under my writer's hole in the ground and am plugging away at new stuff. There are two stories coming very soon. The first is called Meant For Him. It follows the first title Meant For Each Other (MFEO), not exactly as a sequel, but by focusing on a secondary character from the first book.

Andrew Jamieson was Jeremy's boyfriend in MFEO. They'd been together for eight years, but while Andrew had skyrocketed professionally, Jeremy had remained content to continue in his current path of teaching. Andrew's desire to live life ion a manner parallel to his increased wealth, became dissatisfied with Jeremy's stagnation and problems brewed. It was my intent in the first book to keep Andrew a likable character. He and Jeremy weren't right for each other, but Andrew was still a good guy who needed to get his priorities in order.

In this second book, Meant For Him, he meets Peter Johnson (yes, both first and last name refer to a certain appendage). Peter is a bartender at an East Village bar and he, like Jeremy, hasn't progressed much since his graduation from college. Unlike Jeremy, Peter had aspirations but was too afraid to follow through. Andrew, afraid he'll do the same thing to Peter he did to Jeremy, tries not to push, and in the process of getting to know Peter discovers something about himself he never knew before...something that helps to explain why he and Jeremy weren't meant to be.

True to my style, I put my characters through self-doubt and angst before they find their HEA, but I feel like that torment makes the ending so much more worth celebrating.

The book is currently in revisions and will be available through Ai Press soon.

If you haven't read Meant For Each Other, it was one of my earlier books and despite the cheating in it (which I did catch some flack about) is a story I really enjoyed writing. The book can be purchased at Ai Press, Amazon, ARe, Barnes & Noble.

Forbidden Cravings

I have read several of Sedonia Guillone's books and even collaborated on one anthology with her. She was the first to publish my work and has coached me as an author and as a friend. Recently, I read her book, part fo the White Tiger series.

As a spoiler, this book tackles a taboo subject of twincest. I know some people squirm at this subject matter and others have outright angry reactions. Beneath the subject matter, however, is a honest story about two men who struggle with their own insecurities which stand in the way of their love for one another. It's a s simple as that. The fact the two main characters are bothers...twins...does not deter from the sense of longing, struggle, and joy in knowing who you love and finding your way to that person's heart.

There were many qualities of this book which drew me in and kept me. The use of language and the natural flow of one moment to the next demonstrates the care and love Sedonia puts into her writing. Each scene, emotion, and event is purposeful and elegant, exploring both the inner and outer influences that motivate character behaviors.

The concept of the White Tiger, a hotel in Tokyo specializing in methods and practices for seeking inner truth and oneness with self, others, and the world, intrigued me. The owner is knowledgeable in the art of meditation and the teachings work their way into the story. Another character, Quan-Chan, is a specialist in the area of massage and bringing true awareness to one's connection with another person. The whole crew working together are a family, not literally, but in every other sense of the best meanings of that word.

By the end, I longed to figure out who Mod and Tatou would overcome their obstacles and find their way to each other.



Buy At Ai Press, Amazon, B&N

My submission to MM Romance Group on Goodreads

First Hook Up for Andrew and Peter

Andrew’s eyes dipped to Peter’s groin for a split second , but snapped back as if he were waiting for permission to look. The thought threw Peter over the edge and in one quick motion he slid his hand behind Andrew’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

 The first touch of Peter’s lips against Andrew’s hot skin sent a shock of anticipation through him. Pulling Andrew closer, Peter’s hunger grew. He licked at the seal of closed plump lips and was rewarded by immediate compliance.

A clean minty flavor filled Peter’s mouth as his tongue washed over Andrew’s and tumbled lazily in circles. Their lips sealed and a clean wetness added to the massaging tenderness of the kiss. Tumbles interspersed with swipes and laves of tongues as the two men explored each other for the first time.

Peter slid a hand down Andrew’s back, running the tips of his fingers along the spine. When he arrived at the bone cresting Andrew’s ass, he hovered, not stopping, but not continuing along the path he wanted to travel. 

As if on cue, Andrew hummed into Peter’s mouth and leaned forward, arching his back and providing greater access to his ass. 

It was all the invitation Peter needed. Curving his hand along one cheek, he allowed his fingers to slither into Andrew’s crack, and creep closer to his opening. 

Andrew leaned even further forward, breaking the seal of their kiss and panting into Peter’s ear. 

Spurred on with inflamed desire, Peter shifted his hand just an inch more so his fingers could caress the sweet spot. At first pass, he could feel the taught pucker of Andrew’s tight hole. He pressed lightly to determine whether Andrew would clench or open to him. When neither happened, a surge of pleasure shot straight to Peter’s cock. He’s gonna make me work for it.

He ran a few more circles, then pulled his head back enough to stare into Andrew’s eyes. The greens of his irises had inflamed to epic proportions, but as hypnotic as they were, nothing could deter Peter from his ultimate goal. 

With eyes locked in Andrew’s piercing gaze, Peter pushed his finger through the tight opening. Heat engulfed his finger which was now wrapped in satin fire. Then Andrew’s hole clenched, enough to halt Peter’s movement, but not enough to push the finger out. After a few heartbeats, Andrew leaned forward, devouring Peter’s mouth while pushing back onto the invading digit.

Perfect For Me - Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

Sean hurried down the street, using his umbrella more as a shield against the horizontal onslaught of rain. With the wind and the sudden downpour which decided to occur right after he’d found a parking space, there were more areas of his body getting wet than remaining dry.

Coming to a skidding halt on the polished linoleum floor of his middle school lobby in the Bronx where he worked, Sean closed his umbrella, watching the multiple droplets of water form a small pool on the floor. Better get Chuck to mop that up before the teachers arrive. Last thing I need is someone to slip and hurt themselves. The way his luck had been running since his evening with Jerry two nights earlier, a fall would most likely result in a work-related injury the outcome of which would be a gaping hole in his teaching staff as someone took a long-term disability leave to “recover”.

It wasn’t until he was surrounded by the familiar pictures, books, and his ever present stack of observation reports, letters, and professional development plans which required his feedback that Sean felt any sense of normalcy. His suit coat, placed carefully on a hanger, was nearly soaked through. Small patches of his shirt were also wet. Luckily he wasn’t wearing white otherwise his skin would’ve shown through the material. At least his pants were dry, only the bottom part having been exposed to the rain.  Without a change of clothing, he’d just have to deal with it.

As he flipped on his laptop and his email screen appeared, Sean scrolled through the list of new messages, the tension in his shoulders slowly seeping away. Whatever else was going on in Sean’s life, he could always count on work to ground him. 

There was nothing of tremendous importance in his inbox and Sean wasn’t ready to tackle the paperwork. Standing, he raised his arms above his head and stretched, allowing even more tension to edge its way out of his body. Strolling casually to his credenza, he ran his hand along the worn spines of his favorite educational books. Dewey, Gardner, Burns, Routman, greats in the educational field. 

But it was the collection of quotes which he finally picked up, the one with the lettering nearly completely faded, smudged pages, and hundreds of dog-eared corners. This particular book he’d received as a gift from his grandfather. He’d brought it with him when he served in Korea. “The words in this book reminded me why I was there,” he’d said. Even after his grandfather had passed, the saying helped Sean to feel like the man was always with him; still his guide and mentor. 

He flipped the book open and it fell to the page with the quote he read at the beginning of each day. “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.“ - Corrie Ten Boom. 

He’d lived the truth of those words day in and day out, year after year, as students came and went from his school. 

Middle school was a hard enough time in a person’s life, but to experience adolescence in an environment filled with drugs, abuse, and gangs, his work took on new levels of importance. He could worry about each student every day, but then he’d become paralyzed, incapable of making any choices, let alone the right ones. Something in him, nothing he could point to or name, just a natural talent genetically imprinted in his core, gave him the ability to strike the balance with his kids so he could maintain objectivity; could make a real difference. 

Sean ran his finger over the quote on the page, worn from frequent touches, yet the words could vanish completely and he’d know each one. Maybe his ability to think objectively, to remain rational in the face of chaos, was more than a professional calling. He’d reacted the same way when he’d tested positive for HIV.

He replaced the book, pushing such thoughts from his mind. There were far too many things requiring his immediate attention. There was no room to harp on mistakes he’d made in the past even though they continued to impact his present and future.

About to tackle the pile on his desk, Sean was saved by the phone. A double ring. Hmmm. It’s an external call. He glanced at his watch. It was only six forty-five. Teacher and student absences were routed to the outside office phones, not his personal line. A call at this time of the morning equaled something bad.

With a heavy sigh, Sean skidded across the room to the phone. Picking up on the fourth or fifth ring, he made a mental note to ask his secretary to have his calls forwarded to message after two rings. “Hello. This is Principal Sullivan.”

“Good morning, Sean. It’s Margo Brown.” Her voice, normally bubbly, was clipped and formal. “How are you this morning?”

What the hell is the Superintendent calling me at this hour? “I’m fine Margo. What can I do for you?”

“My office received a call from precinct thirty-seven, domestic violence case, it involves one of your students.”

Sean heard Corrie Ten Boom telling him to fill today with strength. He’d received numerous calls such as the current one, but something about this call felt off. Bracing himself, he ventured the one question he needed answered. 

“Who?” 

“Lamar.” The gravity in her suggested she understood the internal reaction Sean was currently experiencing. His heart leapt to his throat and he fell back, gripping the chair just before he fell to the floor.

Lamar. His favorite. The diamond in a mountain of rough.

“Was he arrested?” In a community where arrests were the norm, a student spending time behind bars served more as a badge than an embarrassment.

“No, no. The father was arrested.” A silence filled him as he waited for the superintendent to continue. So far this sounds pretty standard, so why the early call and the urgency of the voice? “The boy was hospitalized. He won’t be in today, but you’ll need a plan for when he returns.”

Shit! Counseling kids off drugs, away from drinking, helping them to resolve conflicts without violence, even talking to them about the pressures of joining gangs; these were things he could handle. 

Having a kid hospitalized, on the other hand, stole from Sean’s resilience, chipping at his sense of control from the outside in. The fact it was Lamar,  a soft spoken, smart, beautiful young man ripped at Sean’s guts and for a moment he thought he might puke, but the sensation passed after a few deep breaths. The kid was thirteen-going-on-twenty. He exuded kindness. He had skin the color of coffee and cream, round brown eyes,  and a lanky body which was somehow sturdy at the same time. Lamar was someone who could go far if given the right supports along the way. 

And, Sean suspected, Lamar was probably gay. Lamar wasn’t overly social, having a small group of friends, most of whom were girls. He’d often take his lunch back to his classroom, helping his teachers organize their rooms or prepare for their next class. 

There’d been a rumor a few months earlier that he’d kissed a boy, but rumors weren’t worth attention unless students began to talk and ridicule. Still, Sean kept an eye on the kid. Made a point of greeting him in the hallway, checking in on how he was doing in his classes and how things were going at home.

To picture this child, the sweet, unassuming student, in a hospital as a result of domestic violence was not something Sean was prepared to handle. Yet prepared or not, he had never let a student down and wouldn’t start today.

“Tell me what you know.”

Margo continued with an even and understanding tone despite the fact she’d just waited through several seconds of silence. “I don’t know anything other than what I’ve told you. Like I said, it was a message. We haven’t reached the mother yet. But I think you might have an idea why your eighth grade student may have received a beating from his father.”

Ice shot through Sean’s system, starting in his heart and radiating outwards, like little shards were bounding inside his veins. “Because he’s gay.”

“I don’t know. But I’ve contacted Child Services and a case worker will meet with you today. If your suspicions about this student are correct and this domestic dispute is related to sexuality, you’ll need the extra support.”

A hint of defensiveness flashed in Sean’s mind. He was perfectly capable of handling the situation. But the thought vanished as quickly as it’d come. This isn’t about you. It’s about a scared, hurt boy.

“I think that’s a great idea, Marge. Do you know when I should expect a visit?” 

“First thing.” Sean looked at his watch once again, as if it held the answers to all of his questions. “He’s a great guy and really good. I know this boy is special to you, and Emery Benton will help you help Lamar.”

That one comment was why Sean loved what he did. He worked with a woman who supervised about a hundred and thirty schools in the geographically poorest urban district in the country and still knew a specific student was special to him. “Thanks Marge, I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Good luck.” Her voice had returned to its normal tone. “Keep me posted on this one.”

“Will do.” Sean hung up the phone then lifted his hands to his face and rubbed vigorously. “Shit.” He’d kept his voice quiet, measured, but his mind was racing. A picture of Lamar, unconscious, in a hospital bed, ripped at his nerves. As much as he helped his kids make the right choices, he had no control over the choices other people made. This came close to his worst nightmare coming true. 

Sean closed his eyes and took several deep breaths through his nose, releasing them evenly through an open mouth. With each breath, Sean focused inward, gently urging his body to relax and release. After ten breaths he was able to regain some measure of balance.

There was no use overthinking the situation until he had information. All he knew was Lamar’s father was arrested, Lamar was in the hospital, and whatever happened was being labeled domestic violence. That didn’t mean Lamar was the victim of a homophobic hate crime. 

Turning to the stack of papers, Sean took the first one into his hands. An unsatisfactory rating for a senior teacher. The union’s gonna have a field day with this. He skimmed through the report, attempting to convince himself he’d actually pushed Lamar from his mind and moved on to other responsibilities. 

After reading the first sentence for the third time, he had to submit to the truth. He wasn’t going to be able to focus until he found out what happened and formed a plan. Evaluations, letters and professional development took a back seat to his students, and right now Lamar needed his full attention.

Fill today with strength. From your mouth to God’s ears Corrie.

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