A collection of five erotic gay stories with explicit male on male action by Landon Dixon.
Man Wanted: The sign on the flyblown restaurant window read: ‘Man Wanted’. To Chester, it had a double meaning, being on the run from the Law. To Russell, it had a double meaning also, needing a man to help out around his place, and his person. The wide-open spaces of 1930s Arizona sheltered all kinds of secrets, some of the best kinds.
Hood: What do you do when a young, hung man washes up on your private beach? Take him for a swim, of course, in the lake and in your bathtub. Take him deep and hard, and then deeper, and harder, until he stops making with the questions for good.
Nailed By Noir: One man’s raging Noir fetish suddenly becomes dark, dripping, black and white reality, when ‘Danger’ shows up on his doorstep.
Owner-Operator: He wrecked his truck a couple of months back, hasn’t got the cash for a new one, and his driving record is a little bumpy. So he came to Northern Roads Trucking, the discount outfit that runs on winter roads up north that are nothing more than frozen ruts on a lake, summer roads full of more craters than the moon, stocking the remotest reserves and docking at the crummiest tin can terminals. Could he handle that? ‘Let’s ride,’ was his response to the big, grizzled guy in charge.
Rendezvous in Porcelain: He was using the occasion of the week after his eighteenth birthday to attempt to progress on his personal journey to flaming gaydom, by staking out the men’s washroom/changeroom at the local beach that had a reputation for being a meet/meat market. But after four straight days of beach bumming, he’d gotten nothing more than a few glimpses of shrivelled prick at the urinals and one raging sunburn. Until the Nubian god’s bladder reached maximum capacity, that is.
These stories have also been published in Hot Tales of Gay Lust Two 9781908192462
Man Wanted: The sign on the flyblown restaurant window read: ‘Man Wanted’. To Chester, it had a double meaning, being on the run from the Law. To Russell, it had a double meaning also, needing a man to help out around his place, and his person. The wide-open spaces of 1930s Arizona sheltered all kinds of secrets, some of the best kinds.
Hood: What do you do when a young, hung man washes up on your private beach? Take him for a swim, of course, in the lake and in your bathtub. Take him deep and hard, and then deeper, and harder, until he stops making with the questions for good.
Nailed By Noir: One man’s raging Noir fetish suddenly becomes dark, dripping, black and white reality, when ‘Danger’ shows up on his doorstep.
Owner-Operator: He wrecked his truck a couple of months back, hasn’t got the cash for a new one, and his driving record is a little bumpy. So he came to Northern Roads Trucking, the discount outfit that runs on winter roads up north that are nothing more than frozen ruts on a lake, summer roads full of more craters than the moon, stocking the remotest reserves and docking at the crummiest tin can terminals. Could he handle that? ‘Let’s ride,’ was his response to the big, grizzled guy in charge.
Rendezvous in Porcelain: He was using the occasion of the week after his eighteenth birthday to attempt to progress on his personal journey to flaming gaydom, by staking out the men’s washroom/changeroom at the local beach that had a reputation for being a meet/meat market. But after four straight days of beach bumming, he’d gotten nothing more than a few glimpses of shrivelled prick at the urinals and one raging sunburn. Until the Nubian god’s bladder reached maximum capacity, that is.
These stories have also been published in Hot Tales of Gay Lust Two 9781908192462
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