For
Smut Sunday, I have a very raw excerpt from my MM erotic romance
Quarantine. This book is set in a concentration camp for confining
gay men. Dylan is a prisoner; Rafe, a guard.
If
this excerpt moves you, consider bidding in the charity auction to
save threatened gay men in Chechnya. I’m offering two autographed
print copies of this provocative book.
Meanwhile,
when you’re finished with this post, head back to Smut Sunday Central for more sexy, smutty fun!
“I
know you watch me,” Dylan answered, all the brashness gone from his
manner. “Well, I watch you, too.”
“How…?”
Rafe slid his fingers into Dylan’s reddish thatch and raised the
inmate’s eyes to his own.
“Easy.
I programmed a guard to change the video routing. To feed the stream
from here to the screen of my controller.”
So
there were spy eyes in the control room, after all. “No…”
“Yes.
You know that hard-on of mine that you enjoy watching so much? That’s
for you, man. When I jack off at night, I’m thinking of you.”
Rafe’s
mind reeled. He snatched his hand from Dylan’s hair as though he’d
been scalded.
“Unlock
the cuffs, man. Let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want
you.”
“Shut
up, faggot!” The key burned a hole in his palm. His rigid dick
strained against his zipper. He was tottering on the edge of a
precipice, tempted to jump. Tempted to give in, to release the rash
young man who’d delivered himself into Rafe’s hands.
But
that would be suicide. The penalties for breaking quarantine were
more severe than for murder.
He
could take what he wanted, though. As long as Dylan was still cuffed,
no one would really care. Rafe was H-negative—not queer, just horny
from the months cooped up here with nothing but eP, no normal
release. Oh, God, but he was horny!
The
pressure from his boner made it difficult to undo his fly. When he
finally managed to work the zipper down, his cock burst from its
prison, bobbing like a fat black sausage in front of Dylan’s hungry
eyes. Moisture welled up from the slit. Dylan licked his full lips as
though dying for a taste.
“Ah,
yes…” the prisoner sighed, leaning forward and reaching out his
tongue.
Rafe
didn’t answer. He grabbed the back of Dylan’s head and plunged
his dick into that wide-open mouth.
Heat.
Wetness. The firm pressure of a muscular tongue, kneading his pulsing
flesh. The tight seal of those ripe lips locked around his rod. Rafe
struggled for control. The sensations that flooded him threatened to
set him off before he even got started. He pulled back, popping out
of Dylan’s mouth. The other man moaned in disappointment. Rafe
drilled back in, hard and fast.
Dylan
gagged and Rafe let up for an instant. Dylan tried his tricks again,
swirling his tongue along the shaft, nipping at the head, sucking
like a vacuum cleaner gone mad. Pleasure swirled through Rafe,
tightening its grip, bringing his cum to a premature boil. Dylan’s
mouth was a garden of delights, but Rafe didn’t want that. He
didn’t want the inmate to give him anything. He wanted to take.
He
slammed his cock down Dylan’s throat, feeling the bulb graze the
palate. The man on his knees choked on the invading bulk. This time
Rafe didn’t relent. He jerked his hips, driving his cock even
deeper.
He
felt Dylan surrender, giving up all pretence of will or control. The
muscles spasming around his rod relaxed. The jaw went slack. Again
and again, Rafe buried his dick in that brazen, laughing mouth,
bruised and drooling now under Rafe’s assault.
In.
Out. In. Rafe stepped closer to the kneeling inmate so that he could
thrust deeper. His climax was on a slow burn now, building with each
stroke. He could fuck this raw, sweet mouth forever.
Something
brushed against his leg, a solid lump that sent a new thrill up his
spine. Dylan’s cock was hard—hard because Rafe was using him like
the fag pussy he was. Rafe had the cruel notion that he might stop,
push the inmate away and deny him any pleasure. He saw himself, using
his fist to bring himself over the edge, showering Dylan’s face
with jism but leaving Dylan without relief.
He
was too far gone to stop, though. The hot pleasure dancing in his
flesh made him generous. Let the twink come, he thought. As if
in answer, Dylan rubbed his crotch against Rafe’s knee awkward
because of his bonds and the inescapable cock plundering his mouth.
The
friction increased Rafe’s excitement. He seized Dylan’s head with
both hands. His back arched. His balls tightened. Then everything
exploded, sharp pleasure slicing through him like shrapnel. His cum
flooded the other man’s mouth. The sensation of Dylan swallowing
detonated new waves of delight.
Dylan’s
cock pulsed. Rafe pulled away at the last instant, not wanting
evidence of their games to stain his trousers. Dylan moaned as
convulsions shook his body. Gradually he stopped shuddering. He sank
back onto his heels, Rafe’s semen dribbling from the corners of his
half-smiling mouth.
