By Sean Michael (Guest Blogger)
I don’t get to choose my characters, they choose me. And they arrive with all their own baggage already packed. Looks, names, foibles, kinks, the whole kit and caboodle is totally not my choice. This works for me – I love getting to know my characters as they tell me their stories.
Trey from Size Matters happens to be blind. It’s always a challenge writing a blind character, but it’s one I’ve taken on before. More times, actually, than I had realized. My first book featuring a blind character was Second Sight where Marc goes blind during the course of the book, but there are plenty more as well: Welcome Home, Love is Blindness, Wallflowers, The Sight of Home, Seeing Love.
Sometimes being blind is a part of what drives the book, sometimes it’s just a part of who the character is and that’s it. In Size Matters, it’s a bit of both. Being blind has affected Trey’s ability to go out and get what he wants in the bedroom, so when Lucien comes along, he seems almost too good to be true. However, the story isn’t about Trey’s blindness. It’s about a writer who is also a size queen. It’s about the man he meets who ticks all his boxes, even the ones he didn’t realize – or hadn’t admitted – he had. And in the end, it’s about love.
Trey is a natural submissive, but no one wants to take on a blind man. When Trey and Lucien hit it off, it could be the answer to Trey’s prayers.
When Lucien meets his favorite author at a book signing, he's surprised to discover the man is not only blind, but much younger than he’d expected. He’s even more surprised to discover that Trey shares a passion of his—BDSM.
Trey loves his life as a horror mystery writer, but it is a lonely one. Immediately drawn to Lucien, he’s surprised and intrigued when Lucien ferrets out his interests in certain aspects of BDSM right from the start.
Is Lucien exactly who Trey’s been waiting for, or is it too good to be true?
Trey could hear the teasing tone in Lucien’s voice and that eased his nerves more than anything else so far.
“Nope. I know, impossible to believe.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Trey. It suits you better than Guy anyway.”
“At least they’re both single syllables, huh? Thanks for coming out to my side of town.”
“I wanted to see you and it was no trouble, honestly.”
Trey didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything, he sipped his coffee and grinned. Okay. This was going okay.
“I have to admit, when I came to the signing, I wasn’t expecting someone…”
Lucien chuckled. “That too. I was going to say sexy.”
“Oh, you’re funny. Thank you, though.”
“Oh, I wasn’t joking.”
There was no way. None. Trey appreciated the compliment anyway.
“Do you mind if I touch you?” Lucien asked.
“I don’t guess so.” Trey didn’t think anyone had ever asked.
Lucien’s hand slid along his cheek. “Silky and smooth, like it looks.”
Trey’s cock jerked, filling almost painfully.
“Your cheek makes me want to know if your other cheeks are as lovely.”
What? Wait. Surely he’d misunderstood. “The other cheek’s the same.”
“I must need to work on my flirting. I imagine I rely too much on my eyes. It makes you a challenge.”
“You’re… Oh, you are something else. You have a blind guy kink?” Because that would suck, just to be some guy’s fetish.
“No, I have a sexy guy kink. I’ve never been with a blind man before. I could let you know if it’s a kink if we get together.” Lucien chuckled, the sound as amazing as the man’s voice was. “I hope I’m not being too pushy—I’m just used to going for what I want and I want you.”
“I don’t know what to say, man. I’m flattered.” And completely unsure about how to deal with this.
“I would love for you to be more than flattered.”
“I don’t… I have to be honest, man. I’ve never dated a man who could see.”
“Why not? And where do you pick up gay men who are blind? Is there a bar for that? I’m only half joking, too.”
“I haven’t met many. And how did you know I was gay? And bars are loud.” Trey never went to any.
“My gaydar is pretty good and you didn’t smack me when I touched you.”
“Oh. That’s probably a sign. We blind gay boys usually just rub.”
“Just rub?” Lucien sounded confused.
“You know, rub in the hope that someone springs wood?”
“Ah.” Lucien chuckled again, the hand on Trey’s cheek dropping along his arm to his thigh. “And are you springing wood?”
“Absolutely not.” God, yes.
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Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organising his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channelling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago".
A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.
Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.
Smut fixes everything