With plenty of varied man-on-man action and stunningly erotic themes these stories will provide a memorable feast of quality fiction that demonstrate, when a man loves a man, anything can happen!
Two-Man Assault by Landon Dixon
World War I. The Western Front. Two soldiers go over the top. One keeps running, through enemy lines and beyond, shedding his weapons of war. While the other follows close behind, watching and lusting. They capture more enemy ground than the entire 1st Army’s taken in four years of fighting. And then they capture each other, celebrating their temporary personal victory in the comradeliest manner possible.
Ladies Man by Jade Taylor
When Aidan asks Nate to stay late at work he wonders why he’s been asked, but as Aidan is tall, dark and Italian looking he doesn’t exactly mind. When Aidan offers him a beer and seems to be flirting Nate’s confused; Aidan’s always seemed such a ladies’ man. But could he be wrong? There’s only one way to find out … A Date with the Popo Bawa by G R Richards
In rural villages across Zanzibar, the Popo Bawa is the most feared of all creatures. He is known to paralyse dreamers and sodomize them as they sleep. When Gus sets out to investigate the case, he’s certain it’s nothing more than sleep paralysis coupled with some sort of shared cultural nightmare. But, as he and his Swahili translator, Ayize, talk to more and more victims, the Popo Bawa becomes so real Gus he decides he must capture it to save the villagers from further brutality. He doesn’t mind taking one for the team. But how will Gus react when it turns out the Popo Bawa has been right in front of him throughout the entire investigation?
Male Secretaries by Richard Allcock
Ray knows that finding a good secretary isn’t easy so when Brad comes along he wants to do everything in his power to keep him. He has a feeling Brad’s gay, not that it makes any difference to him getting the job, his qualifications are impeccable.
One day he notices Brad has a sore neck so he offers to massage it, but the massage turns into much more than either of them bargains for.
Driven To It by Elizabeth Coldwell
Even the best brief in the business can’t help star striker, Jordan Kennedy, escape a driving ban. Needing a ride to the training ground, he hires cute chauffeur, Callum, to ferry him around. Their relationship gets off to a frosty start, and it doesn’t help that Jordan’s fighting a fierce attraction to Callum, taboo in the closeted world of football. But an unexpected detour on a stormy day brings their mutual lust out into the open.
These stories have also been published in When A Man Love a Man ISBN 9781907761638
We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon carefully exploring the section we’d taken. It was a real no man’s land, not a soldier or civilian in sight, just open snowy fields and copses of green snowy trees. By nightfall, we’d located an old abandoned stone barn, and settled in.
‘Better than a hole in the ground any day,’ I said, unslinging my rifle and looking around the small barn.
There were a couple of empty stalls, some firewood stacked in one corner, hay in the other. Carmichael was shaking like a leaf, his sky-blue eyes just about popping out of his head with worry.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked. ‘We’re out of the fighting, aren’t we?’
He gulped, nodded, his face as pale as the pristine snow outside. ‘That’s just the thing. Isn’t the captain going to think we went … over the hill?’
I laughed and flung an arm around the kid’s bony shoulders. ‘What are you talking about? We’ve captured more enemy ground than the whole 1st Army’s taken in four years of fighting. We’ll probably get medals.’ I let him go, slapped his ass, my hand bouncing briskly off his thin taut buttocks. ‘Now, go get some of that wood and start a fire. We can risk it – better than freezing to death.’
He had a warm blaze going in minutes. I gathered up some hay and made a pile for us against the wall in front of the fire, stretched out on it and lit a cigarette. After a moment’s hesitation, he stretched out next to me and I popped a cigarette in between his red lips. We puffed in silence, the night growing darker through the cracks in the weathered wooden door of the barn.
Suddenly, Carmichael started sobbing. I gripped his shoulders again, pulling him in tight against my body. ‘What’s the matter now?’ His blond hair tickled my nose.
He turned his head and looked up at me with those baby blue eyes of his, tears sparkling in them. ‘It’s – it’s just that things are so nice here … but – but we’re going to have to go back to the front in the morning, aren’t we? Back to the trench and the fighting?’
I tousled his hair. ‘Don’t worry about that now. We’ll deal with that in the morning. Out here you’ve got to grab any pleasure you can, wherever you can find it, and not think about tomorrow.’
I stared down into his wide eyes, my own words of hard-bitten wisdom ringing in my ears. And then I followed the spirit of those words of experience, bending my head down and planting my lips on Carmichael’s ripe red lips.
He drew back, surprised, staring at me. I smiled, warm as the crackling fire, and he tentatively moved his head forward, met my lips with his, our mouths pressing together.
My cock surged in my pants as we moved our lips together, hungrily kissing one another, desperate, greedy for this most intimate of human contacts after so many weeks of inhumanity. I could feel the excited pulse of the kid all through my body, and I reached my right hand down, in between his legs, covered the warm, pulsating bulge in his pants with my big warm mitt.
He moaned into my mouth. I squeezed his cock, thrilling at the feel of it growing, rising up in my hand, the kid wriggling against me. I shot my tongue into his mouth and his tongue eagerly jumped up and tangled with my sticker, his hot breath flooding my face like his hot erection was filling my hand.
The whole barn gained warmth, our body temperatures soaring. I gripped Carmichael’s cock and pumped it, and his tongue danced in my mouth, his body shuddering against mine. The guy had poled out to an amazing extent between my fingers, so big my hand could hardly grasp it all. I had to see what I’d aroused, see it and stroke it and suck it, relieve the rest of the tension the kid was still feeling.
I fumbled with the bottoms on his fly. He broke away from my mouth, looking down and grabbing onto those buttons, deftly opening them up, drawing his cock out of his drawers and pants. He held the thing in his hand, a huge, pulsating, pink member that stretched eight inches or more in length, smooth-shafted and mushroom capped.
I gaped at it. Carmichael turned his head and looked at me again. Then he let go of his incredible appendage and picked up my big hand, placed it on his cock. We both shuddered, my thick fingers closing around the swollen shaft, my rough palm stroking up and down.
