Showing posts with label Kenn Dahll. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kenn Dahll. Show all posts

Saturday, November 11, 2017

The Erotic Side of Gay Romances (#gay #erotic #romance @KDahll)

Ambrogio's Secret cover

Kenn Dahll (Guest Blogger)

It is possible to write a gay romance without explicit sex−possible but in my view unrealistic. Authors who eschew depicting realistic sexual encounters employ various devices such as euphemisms, “the two handsome young men kissed, hugged and united blissfully”; or behind closed doors transitions, “the pair went into John’s bedroom hand in hand.” I’m not fond of either avoidance mechanism. My take is that gay romance by definition requires hot, erotic coupling depicted in exquisite detail. Hence, my style is often criticized as “raw” or “gritty,” and I won’t deny the criticism is fair−if coming from the perspective of someone puritanically inclined. Based on my published works, I’ve identified several reasons for injecting graphic sex in gay romances.

Gay men often initially connect through sex frequently through cruising in gay bars for sex partners, engaging in sex in gay baths, or even trolling gay internet hookup sites as a means to meet other gay men, ostensibly for sex, but often with the ulterior motive of connecting on an emotional dimension. It would be inaccurate to eliminate such venues and motivations from a story about contemporary gay romance.

Stories with an historical setting are considerably different in that the means of same sex partners meeting are more constrained. In the few non-contemporary stories I have written, getting the main characters into situations were sex develops faces a thin line between consensual and non-consensual. Depictions of brute force and master/slave relationships must be carefully crafted to tread carefully while maintaining the power dynamics of the time period selected. One mechanism I used in an early story−Soaring with a Hawk−was to force myself to limit common vulgar terms such as “cock,” or “ass” to more faithfully capture the encounters between a young pioneer son and a Native American brave. They had sex but the language was “softer.”

Additionally, explicit sex in gay romances can reveal a character’s personality allowing for the storyline to portray an evolutionary change in his personality. In my works I’ve done this for various types of personalities.


In one category, the Main Character (MC) is portrayed as a Machiavellian manipulator. Two stories make this point. In Naughtical Buoys, the extremely wealthy MC uses his fantastic yacht to lure attractive young men into virtual sex slavery, fully described in gritty detail. He also uses money to buy sexual favors from hustlers and strip club dancers, often paying for humiliating sexual demands in front of an audience, also depicted in full rawness. In At Your Service, the charismatic scion of a wealthy family uses his sex appeal, as well as his position as boss over his valet, to procure elaborately detailed sexual services. In both stories, the MC experiences crises motivating him to drastically change his views on sex and commitment, resulting in more romantic−yet explicit−sex.

A second type I’ve depicted is the naive MC who experiences uncaring or even manipulative sex before meeting an individual who respects his sexual autonomy. They then engage in romantic sex as sensitive lovers in a thoroughly depicted sexual encounter which becomes a dramatic highlight of the story.

Finally in a story involving a dominant MC, usually in a BDSM situation, the control over other characters’ sexual release becomes a major factor in the narrative’s direction and ultimate resolution. My most common resolution in this type of story is redemption. Some event causes the abusive MC to realize the concern and even love his abused has for the MC. A primary example of this, one recognized by a reviewer, is Irish Punk.



Given my belief in the validity of explicit sex in gay romances, I face one big issue−a largely female audience preferring more romance for gay erotica. Recognizing the problem, I engaged a female editor for a story included in a Valentine's Day bundle under Selena Kitt’s Excite Spice forum. Other than some grammatical changes she had two issues: 1) she questioned including what she termed "icky behavior” involving armpits, and 2) she felt the story lacked romantic buildup. I followed her advice and managed to keep the sex toned down−took out the armpit scene, for one thing−so it's not as explicit as many of my stories, leaving it caught between gay romance and gay erotic sub-genres. I also upped the romance factor, delaying overt sex until mid-story. Even then, I held back for a sex scene or two before going fully raw. Since it was part of an anthology, I didn’t get any exclusive reviews of my story, but the anthology reviews were favorable and one singled out my story.



My current work in process, a novel, is historical−set in Las Vegas, New Mexico in the late nineteenth century−and I have created various unusual settings in which sex occurs−railroad cars, a church rectory, barns, boarding houses, a mansion, and a farmhouse. My MC has romantic notions but, unfortunately, his first love doesn’t appear to be interested, the first person he has sex with betrays him and he sours on the possibility of a “happy ever after” situation. On his journey, the MC encounters brutes who threaten physical−even sexual harm−witnesses a rough sexual threesome, and is pestered by younger men curious about sex. I won’t give out the surprise twist in the story except to say it ends in lots of loving−but explicit−sex.

About Me

Kenn moved from the gay ghetto called Wilton Manors, Florida to the much more dynamic, yet still extremely gay, District of Columbia area. More than twenty-five years ago he submitted a short story to a “one-hand magazine” contest and won a year's subscription. Since then he has written many stories, none of which he submitted for publication until August 2008 when one was included in Alyson Books’ Island Boys Anthology. Currently, he is thrilled to be published in eXcessica.com with over thirty titles. He is also published in two additional Alyson Books anthologies: Best Gay Love Stories 2009 and 2010.

Generally, Kenn says he sees a hot male and constructs a fantasy story around him−how he’s dressed, what he might be thinking, what is his relationship with the other males around him be it in a bar, a bus, a restaurant, a bank, or even a church. Sometimes a situation encountered in Kenn’s daily routine, on vacation, or simply on a casual stroll around the neighborhood, inspires him and a story will take shape in his mind, which is then populated from his vivid imagination. Kenn claims to find few outlets outside of erotic fiction for his innate creativity and is pleased others are interested in reading what he writes.

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Sunday, August 7, 2016

Sunday Snog 238: Quarantine (#mm #scifi #giveaway )


Hosting Kenn Dahll yesterday made me long for a bit more M/M loving, so I dived into my backlist and came up with an edgy kiss excerpt for today’s Sunday Snog, from my M/M scifi erotic romance Quarantine

Give it a read, then leave me a comment telling me why you think M/M erotic romance is so popular. I’ll randomly select one person to receive a copy of any of my M/M books your choice!

When you’re done with my snog, do head back to Victoria’s place for more sexy Sunday kisses.

When love is forbidden, the whole world’s a prison.

Dylan Moore will do anything for freedom. Seven years ago, a gay plague spread to heterosexuals, killing millions and sparking brutal anti-gay riots. The Guardians rounded up men who tested positive for the homogene and imprisoned them in remote quarantine centres like desolate Camp Malheur. Since then, Dylan has hacked the camp's security systems and hoarded spare bits of electronics, seeking some way to escape. He has concluded the human guards are the only weakness in the facility's defences.

Camp guard Rafe Cowell is H-negative. He figures the lust he feels watching prisoner 3218 masturbate on the surveillance cameras must be due to his loneliness and isolation. When he finally meets the young queer, he discovers that Dylan is brilliant, brave, sexy as hell – and claims to be in love with Rafe. Despite his qualms, Rafe finds he can't resist the other man's charm. By the time Dylan asks for his help in escaping, Rafe cares too much for Dylan to refuse.

Dylan's plan goes awry and Rafe comes to his rescue. Soon they're both fugitives, fleeing from militant survivalists, murderous androids, homophobic ideologues and a powerful man who wants Dylan as his sexual toy. Hiding in the Plague-ravaged city of Sanfran, Dylan and Rafe learn there's far more than their own safety at stake. Can they help prevent the deaths of millions more people? And can Rafe trust the love of a man who deliberately seduced him in order to escape from quarantine?


Dylan took a step or two towards the white-suited guard, holding the candle high. Rafe rose from the bench, scowling, sweat gleaming on his proud forehead and prominent nose. The powerful gloved hands clenched and unclenched, a clear signal of the man’s uncertainty. Good.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You want another stint in the hole?” he growled. Dylan moved closer and, by God, the guard backed away.

You look like you’re feeling hot, Rafe. Why don’t you take off the monkey suit? You know I’m not contagious.” Dylan kept his voice low and even, as though he were trying to reassure a frightened animal. “Make yourself more comfortable. Don’t worry, nobody knows we’re here together. I blinded the spy eyes. And there’s no electricity anyway.” He stepped forward again. This time Rafe held his ground.

Keep away from me, faggot!” Despite Rafe’s glare, this sounded more like a plea than a command. Dylan set the candle down on the rail separating the generators from the aisle. He closed the few feet of distance between them.

Let me help you,” Dylan murmured, pulling the zip on the suit down to Rafe’s waist.

Get your filthy hands off me!” Rafe yelled. But he didn’t move as Dylan opened the suit all the way down to his crotch. Dylan resisted the temptation to reach inside and stroke the erection he knew he’d find there. Instead, he pushed the garment off Rafe’s shoulders. The slithery fabric crumpled around Rafe’s knees.

Relax,” said Dylan. “Sit down.” He seated himself on the bench, the polished wood cool against his bare buttocks. Like an automaton, Rafe did the same. The black man kicked off the biohazard gear. For a moment they simply stared at each other.

Dylan felt his nipples tighten and his cock lift under the guard’s scrutiny. It really was lucky the guy was so attractive. It made everything easier.

He could read the emotions shuttling across Rafe’s face. Hell, the guy was an open book. The anger was mostly gone. Now fear, guilt and lust battled it out on those noble features. Dylan sat quietly, holding Rafe’s eyes, his cock growing harder with every passing second. Rafe’s nostrils flared. He breathed through his mouth, panting as though he was running a marathon. His gaze flicked down to the rod of flesh rearing up from Dylan’s groin.

What do you want?” he asked finally, his voice almost a whisper.

You know what I want. You.”

He leant forward, brushing his lips across Rafe’s. The other man started. Dylan seized the guard’s shoulders and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Rafe did not resist. In fact, he opened his mouth to allow Dylan’s questing tongue inside.

Exultation flared in Dylan’s heart. Still devouring the guard’s mouth, he slid his hands down Rafe’s massive biceps and then over his solid chest, pulling at the Velcro that kept the shirt closed. The guard’s skin was smooth, warm, and moist with sweat. Dylan’s fingers skimmed over the patch of tight frizz between Rafe’s breasts, then fastened on one fat nipple. Rafe gasped, grabbed Dylan’s head, and deepened the kiss.

This was almost too easy. Dylan cupped the huge bulk of Rafe’s erection, trapped inside the tight trousers. “I want to see you naked,” he said, close to Rafe’s ear. “Please, baby…”

Rafe abruptly broke the embrace. Damn. Had he moved too fast for the homophobic guard? Rafe turned his broad back to Dylan and shucked off his shirt. Dylan licked his lips at the sight of the muscles shifting in that sleek, chocolate brown expanse. Rafe kicked off his boots then yanked his pants down to his ankles. Finally he peeled off the gloves and tossed them onto the concrete floor.
When he faced Dylan again, his eyes were glowing coals. His cock rose like a pillar of basalt between his powerful thighs. His abdomen rippled as he sucked in breath. He was magnificent, like some ancient god. Dylan wanted to worship him.


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