Best Gay Erotica 2015 (15 page)

pressing him into the back wall, my arms held up to trap him there.

“Really?” Chase said, trying to find the humor in it and failing most miserably. “Really? It comes to this?”

I rocked my hips, dancing my cock into his. His answered in reply, rising despite the occasion. Chase flushed, weakly pushing at me. I didn't go anywhere. I just rocked him harder until he cried out, his own hands fumbling to release himself and to open my jeans. His cock poured out, fat and throbbing. I cradled it as he took my own cock in hand. I found his mouth and devoured him, needles out in full. Sweet salt filled my mouth, thick as cream down my throat, and I pulled away, to look at his face.

I'd said to my monster,
Go! Be free!
And he was and it was too late to call him back into the cage. I honestly wasn't too sure I even wanted to. Chase was a most terrible man. He'd betrayed me twice now. I think my monster wanted a turn or two.

Chase opened his eyes, blood running down his lip to his chin. He had to have seen it on my lips, ruby red. I waited to see what he'd do. He wiped his chin and then rushed forward, his mouth clamping down on mine, his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me forward. He ground his mouth into me, into my teeth, opening himself up to me and my need. My monster sang in my head and thrummed my heart. I kissed Chase and drank from his mouth: blood and saliva, all wrapped in pain and pleasure.

He pulled me downward. And there, on a dirty floor that still ran with blood and piss, he knelt, his ass teasingly bumping against my crotch. I slid my fingers in his ass. He purred, pressing against my hand. I loosened him, softening him with saliva and gentle fingers, and then slowly I entered with my throbbing prick. When he had me full within, both of us trembling like horses, I held on to his hips for dear life. We fucked like it was the first time, like it could be the last, like it was the only thing that mattered.

He pushed back into me, taking my cock and milking it with his muscles. I let him have it, full cock entering and leaving, my balls warm and wetly slapping the back of his ass and thighs. When I came, my cock sputtered within him as he danced along with the fuck. I pulled out wetly, my hand stroking down his back as goose bumps rose under my palm.

Chase gingerly sat up to brace himself on his back heels. I pulled his head back and kissed him again, cleaning his warm mouth with my tongue. He turned, nary stopping the kiss, and rose up again on his knees, pressing his strong stomach against mine, his hard nipples glancing off and on mine, teasing them to awareness. We kissed now like friends winding down.

“If we're going again, Irish, I'm gonna need some time,” he said, pulling away. He winced a little when he sat back onto his heels, and then he seemed okay, his blue eyes examining me fully as if he'd never seen me before. “So what now?”

I glared at him. My cock was tired and resting a bit, but my balls were already rebelling and tightening. My nipples were in on the game of working against me, too. It came to me that what I should do was fuck him again and drain him. Chase smiled wryly as if he could hear that thought.

“I dunno,” I finally said.

“Huh,” Chase grunted. Then he stirred, moving toward me. “Well then, while you're thinking on it, why don't I take care of that?” And his warm mouth fell onto my cock, my traitorous raging, hard cock. Pleasure rocked me, warmth spreading throughout my body as I swayed into him, giving in to him, surrendering, letting my guard just float away.

Chase bit me. I snarled, looking down, while he smiled, staring up. There were pink traces of blood mixing with the saliva on his mouth. He slowly, deliberately licked his mouth, his eyes gleaming with black mischief.

“Oops.”

My cock was still hard. A light coating of blood and a wee bit of pain didn't deter it at all. It did call the monster, though. He waited within for my response.

“Do you want me to continue?” Chase innocently asked. “Or should I stop?”

My cock jerked in response. “Yeah,” I growled out. “Go for it.”

Chase laughed with open delight. His mouth found my cock, and my hands found their way down to stroke his head, his jaw, his throat, as he in turn drank me full and true.

All in all, it was a partnership even monsters could agree to.

Logan Zachary

Austin Clark was dressed as a clown, a rodeo clown. He looked at the clock on the scoreboard as his favorite bull rider saddled up.

0.0 seconds

Austin watched as Jake McKenzie curled his fingers around the bull rope with his riding hand and pounded them into a fist with his left hand while he sat on top of a huge bull. Jake nodded, letting everyone know he was ready.

The horn blew, the metal gate swung open and the bull shot out. The numbers on the digital timer started whirling, but appeared to be in slow motion. Ads for Jack Daniels, Wrangler jeans, smokeless tobacco, Pro Bass Sports and Bud Light whizzed by.

0.9 seconds

Jake's gloved hand hung on to the bull rope that was wrapped around the raging, twirling bull, the man holding on to it for dear life. His Levi-clad ass bounced off the back of the bucking black body as his cowboy boots dug in for purchase. Austin watched the cowboy's body work not to lean too far forward and thereby smack his head on the bull's impossibly thick neck.

The bull swung around and around, kicking up its hind legs, tossing its raging head back and forth, side to side, trying to throw the rider.

2.5 seconds

Jake clung on for all he was worth. His even white teeth gnashed against his mouth guard as he was flung forward and around. He shifted his back and leaned the other way.

His cowboy hat flew off. Sawdust and dirt rose up as the raging beast continued to try toss him off.

4.8 seconds

Jake's ass slammed down hard on the bull. The rider's black leather vest was covered with badges of awards and sponsors, the vivid colors flashing in front of his eyes.

6.7 seconds

The crowd roared, the bull snorted and Austin waved his arms in the air. The world swirled around and jerked to a halt, only to swing in the other direction. Jake's cowboy boot slipped off the rib he used to maintain traction and his jean's seam rode deeper into his butt crease. Sweat streamed down his body. Austin licked his lips at the sight of it, of him.

8.0 appeared on the clock, a horn sounded and Jake's wrist snapped louder than a gunshot.

Austin heard the
SNAP!

Jake let go of the rope and jumped free of the bull. He threw a leg over the mighty beast and high-stepped out of its way as he carried his wounded wrist in the palm of his other hand. Austin noticed Jake's wounded hand now dangled at

an awkward angle from the end of his forearm. Jake looked down at it with a blank stare. Austin knew he felt no pain, not completely understanding what had just happened. He watched as Jake spit out his mouth guard.

Austin rushed over to Jake as another clown waved his hands and distracted the raging animal, luring the bull away.

“Ninety point five!” the announcer shouted to the cheering crowd. It was the rider's score.

Austin noticed Jake's face had gone a ghastly pale and his eyes were glazed over. He wrapped an arm around the other man's broad shoulders and guided him to the escape gate. “Medic!” he hollered over the crowd's cheers as he ushered Jake to the first-aid station.

The doctor was nowhere in sight.

Despite his wearing clown makeup, Austin knew what to do. He grabbed Jake's hand and pulled it back into place before he picked up a splint and wrapped it around the injured wrist. Carefully, he Velcroed the straps into place to hold the dislocated hand in line with the forearm. He grabbed an ice pack and wrapped it around the splint and then Ace-wrapped it into place. “Does it hurt?”

Jake shook his head.

“Your prostaglandins haven't kicked in yet, but when they do, your wrist will really start to swell and throb.” Austin removed his clown gloves as he searched the medicine chest and pulled out the Advil. He dumped four tablets into Jake's good hand, grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the cap.

Jake swallowed the pills and sipped the water without question.

“Are you light-headed? Maybe you should lie back in the hay, get your legs and arm up, and your head down.”

As Jake settled back and did as he was told, he asked with a shit-eating grin, “Are you propositioning me?”

“And he's back.” Austin smiled underneath the white makeup. “I thought I'd lost you there for a moment.”

“What's your name?” Jake asked.

“Austin Clark, at your service.” He saluted and backed up as he saw the doctor approaching. “He's the one who'll be able to help you.”

“No, please stay,” Jake said.

The doctor stepped in front of Austin and looked down his nose at him. He then stared at Jake's wrist and nodded at it. “Who did that?”

“I did,” Austin replied. “I figured he needed ice, compression and immobilization to protect his dislocated wrist.”

The doctor carefully picked up Jake's arm and inspected the work. He raised one finger in front of his eyes and asked, “You got any double vision, son?”

“Nope.”

“Blurred vision?” He moved his index finger back and forth.

Jake scanned as the doctor moved his hand. “I didn't hit my head. I just heard a snap in my wrist when the ride ended.”

“Was it a loud snap?”

“Like a gunshot,” Austin added.

The doctor shook his head and frowned at Austin.

“I'm a hand therapist and I rodeo clown on the side,” Austin spoke up, “and—”

“I'm the doctor,” the man interrupted before turning back to Jake.

“And I have one more ride tonight,” Jake reminded the both of them.

“Not tonight you don't. You need an X-ray of your wrist, and you—”

“Cowboy up, Doc,” Jake said. “I have a splint on it, and there's no pain.”

Austin grabbed Jake's arm. “He has a great splint on.”

The doctor rolled his eyes as Austin quickly released the arm. “Unwrap him,” he said. “Let's have a look-see.”

Austin undid the ice and Ace wrap. He slipped the splint over Jake's thumb and pulled the brace off to expose his wrist.

The doctor shook his head and said, “You can try, but I wouldn't if I were you.”

Austin again helped Jake don the splint before he wrapped the ice and bandage around and around. “We'll rewrap your wrist with the ice until the last ride.”

Jake moved his wrist and found it secure and reported it was relatively pain free. “I'll try anything at this point.”

Austin held his breath as he watched the next ride. It went off without a hitch. Jake's wrist held, he lasted eight seconds and jumped free of the bull, and landed safely on his feet. But just after the ride, the bull spun and swung his powerful hind end into the rider. The impact sent Jake sailing, propelling him into the metal gate. Austin watched as Jake flew straight through the air into the bars. He landed hard on the ground and stopped moving.

Austin's worried face looked down at Jake when the cowboy finally opened his eyes. The doctor clucked his tongue. Austin had been knocked against the gate once before and knew Jake's vision had to have been all messed up. The expression on Jake's face also let Austin know that the rider was in pain. Austin asked, “Do you feel like you've been struck by a truck?”

Jake nodded slowly.

“You scored a ninety-six point five, but the bull knocked you out.” Austin forced a worried smile.

“Why does my head hurt?” Jake asked as the ice pack slipped down his face, blocking his view.

“Your head hit the gate and you have a goose egg on your forehead.” The doctor held up his finger. “Are you seeing double?”

The way Jake's eyes moved, Austin knew the doctor's fingers blurred and doubled as he tried to focus. “You're going to make him throw up,” Austin warned the doctor.

“Whoa, the world is spinning and shaking.” Jake closed his eyes to stop the pain.

“See,” Austin said.

The doctor frowned and shook his head. “Someone will have to stay with him tonight.”

“I can stay with him,” Austin replied, angry with the doctor's apparent lack of concern.

“I don't need a fucking babysitter,” Jake said as he struggled to sit upright. His arms moved out to the side to catch himself before he toppled over.

Austin caught him.

“The world's spinning,” Jake said.

The doctor leaned down and stared into Jake's whirling eyes. “If you don't agree to have someone stay with you, I'll have to call nine-one-one and have them bring you to the hospital to stay overnight. Your choice.” He then held up his cell phone and threatened to dial the number.

Jake looked at Austin and exhaled deeply. “Are you sure it's not a problem?” He closed his eyes and pressed his hand against his forehead.

“I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” Austin stood and started to gather up Jake's belongings.

“Your place or mine?” Jake asked as he stood on unsteady legs.

“Where are you staying?” Austin asked, setting Jake's cowboy hat on a nearby table.

Jake bit his lower lip in thought. “I wish I knew. Where's my wallet? I should have a hotel card key inside.”

The doctor shook his head, but before he could say any more, a new arrival with blood pouring down his face forced him to rush over.

“Is it in your back pocket?” Austin motioned for Jake to turn around. He held his breath as he watched the tightest ass in jeans spin right in front of his eyes. No bump of a wallet, but a huge basket in front.

Austin smiled. “I guess it's my place then.”

Austin pulled into his driveway and ran around his Blazer to help Jake out before grabbing the roll bag and Jake's cowboy hat.