Wednesday, 24 September 2014

Thank you. Yes, you.

Thank you guys....Game On is now free at Amazon.UK and Not only that, it reached the dizzying heights of number 2 in the UK, kindle, free, gay chart....and number 1 at A huge, huge thanks to everyone who has read and downloaded this (now free) story. An even bigger thank you to everyone who has reviewed or rated it. Also - a big thank you to Natasha Snow, without that fabulous cover it wouldn't have caught the eye of so many readers.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Halloween Dream by Olley White

As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, last month in the clubhouse there were two Unicorn birthdays. I shared one story with you, now it's time for the other. While Plum Celestial Moon is all about daddies and fun, Fern Sweet Legs likes the more ethereal, whimsical love. So for her I wrote Halloween Dream. My inspiration can be found here and here. Enjoy. 

Halloween Dream by Olley White
It was dark as they made their way into Old Priory woods. Silver moonlight reflected off trees and cast shadows all around. Tendrils of fog edged the forest floor, wispy hands claiming the feet of the small group. Olivier’s heart was beating particularly fast, but he wasn’t going to admit that to anyone. He adjusted his hat and shivered in the freezing October air, steampunk perhaps hadn’t been the most sensible style to wear this All Hallows Eve, he reflected.

“Where’s this ruin then?” asked Kari, in an almost bored voice. Olivier wasn’t sure how she managed to sound jaded, when his heart was thumping so loudly he was certain the others could hear it. Haunted houses were not his thing, so not his thing. But sometimes you just had to go with the flow. A twig cracked behind him and he spun round straight into the laughing clown mask Rob was wearing.
“Fuck off!” he said, with just slightly less malice than he felt. He hated Halloween with a passion, always had and always would. Yet every year he got dragged into something. This was the worst idea to date though, a visit to a haunted house. Haunted his foot – just because it was an abandoned building didn’t mean it was haunted.

“So?” Kari asked again.

“Not far.” Rob leapt ahead and executed a pratfall in front of the Goth-clothed girl. Olivier snorted. Girls may not be his area of expertise, but he was pretty sure Rob was not going to get the attention he craved from Kari by acting the fool. While the rest of the group tried to outwit and out-scare each other, Olivier just carried on quietly behind.

After a few more minutes, the sound of creepy music drifted through the air towards them. Olivier wasn’t sure, but his guess would have been music from an old horror film score. They were nearly at the house then. Great, just a few hours of drunken antics to get through and then he could go home. If he agreed to this next year he hoped somebody would shoot him.

He followed the group to the edge of the tree line and got his first glimpse of the building. He took in the spectacle in front of him, the ornate iron gates that hung from tall posts resting atop a crumbling wall. The riot of plants that twined round and up and over everything. Brambles, he realised as he stepped closer.

The house beyond was majestic against the silver, moonlit sky. Dark and domineering, it spoke of majesty and power, the decaying rot at its core only visible when Olivier was nearly in its grasp. Unlike any other Halloween party he had ever attended Olivier was surprised to find a lack of thumping music and rowdy drunks. Sure, the eerie film music was still playing, but it was a world away from the heavy beat he had been expecting. Even Kari showed some signs of being impressed.

“Welcome to the house of fate.” A faery materialised as if out of nowhere. Glittering wings twinkled in the moonlight and the slender body shimmered like spun silver. The face though, the face was a monstrous parody of beauty – a cartoon faery face on a body of ethereal beauty. Ironic, Olivier supposed as he pulled his eyes away from the painted on horror. Over-large eyes and super-full lips maybe the designers’ idea of beautiful but in real life they just looked monstrous.

“Tonight belongs to the spirits and the fae, both good and bad, your experience is theirs to with as they please. Pleasure or pain, it is not our choice. May your evening be...fulfilling.” Olivier shivered at the words that fell from the faery’s lips and a shudder worked down his spine. It was barely ten o’clock; he had at least two hours before he could leave.

“Whatever,” said Kari. “Come on Rob, I need to find some beer.”

Olivier was starting to follow them when he felt a tug at his arm. The faery was looking at him, a strange expression on her face. Olivier started. The face was different. Before it had been only beauty in an artificial imitation. Grotesque and ugly in its quest for beauty but the features were the most beautiful he had ever seen. Delicate and chiselled and almost painful to look upon.
“If you want your night to be everything you’ve dreamt of don’t follow them, find your own way. The house is old and full of treasure for those who seek honestly.”

“Wha...” Olivier started before a loud clang made him jump and turn around. The rusty gate was being pushed by a Freddy Kruger impersonator. The girl with him in a tight cat suit laughed and clapped at his antics. Olivier turned back to the faery...but there was no sign of her. The garden behind him was empty, save for the over-grown plants, silvery moonlight and low-creeping fog.

The fog was illuminated by the soft shine of the moon and looked for all the world like a path through the night. Something pulled inside of him, begging him to follow and hopelessly, helplessly he did. Soft music enticed him, curling through the air, a delicate tinkling sound yet more powerful than anything Olivier had ever heard. He strained to hear the sound of the film score that had been playing or for the noise of the other guests, but hard as he tried he couldn’t hear anything other than the gentle, calling notes.

Letting himself be wrapped in their soothing sound he let himself be lead by the sound and the light and moved away from the front of the house to a garden that was full and beautiful and showing no signs of decay.

While the fog swirled around the edges, inside the garden, lit bright by the night sky, there was none. Roses bobbed in a non-existent breeze and Olivier couldn’t ignore the urge to push his nose into one and draw in the heady perfume. The air, he realised, was full of the scent of lavender and honeysuckle. Part of him realised that this was not possible at this time of the year. That summer had passed and autumn was here, the time for death among plants before regeneration. This garden though was full of life, and Olivier wandered from one plant to the next joyful in the beauty they exuded.
He drifted along, no longer cold in the October evening, no longer tired or worried or fed up of Halloween. There was no urge to find his friends, to seek company, he was happy alone...yet when his eyes caught sight of the lithe limbed boy stretching under a rose covered arbour he wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“Hi,” the boy said shyly as Olivier drew close. “My name is Joaquin.”

Joaquin was the most stunning person Olivier had ever seen. Naked but for some silky black lingerie, a soft black shrug and fishnet stockings, his body lean and delicate and beautiful. His feet were clad in high platform shoes, both gentle and masculine at the same time. His eyes were outlined in black, defining the perfect slant of them, and fingerless-leather gloves covered his hands.

“I’m Olivier,” he said moving forward towards the boy. He wasn’t aware of making this decision consciously, but he knew it was what he wanted.

“I know,” said Joaquin and then no more words passed between them. Joaquin’s mouth was soft and tasted of strawberries. Sweet and tasty and so moreish. A tongue licked at Olivier’s lips til they parted and then wisped inside, searching and seeking, though Olivier knew not for what.

Olivier’s hands found their way round Joaquin’s body and despite the night, it was warm to touch. Warm and smooth and he traced his fingers up over the delicately defined muscles and the sensitive nipples that hardened beneath his fingers. The gasp Olivier gave as he traced back down to toy with them further had him hardening in his leather trousers. Knowingly Joaquin reached for the zip, tugging it down and exposing Olivier to the night air. Groaning Olivier returned the favour, pushing his hands inside the silky scrap around Joaquin’s groin and pushing it down.

The cock that sprung free was as perfect as the rest of him, Olivier realised, shyly taking hold of it. Joaquin pulled back and offered a shy smile before enveloping both their cocks together and gliding his hand up and down. In the enchantment of this unknown garden Olivier’s soul began to sing. The pulling in his core was more than he’d ever felt before, yet it was kind and gentle and so, so magic. Need built and rose and grew inside him. A yearning that was more than just physical. Long, cool fingers fondled his balls, the motion so unexpected, so wonderful, that orgasm rose and Olivier came. Colour and light and a million sparks flooded his body. A need he’d never felt before, a satisfaction so complete he found it hard to believe.

He drew back a little, not enough to break contact, but enough to watch as Joaquin found his own pleasure. As the beautiful almond shaped eyes widened and a delicate huff of breath left his body. Come, as warm and sweet-scented as the perfumed night air spilled from Joaquin  and Olivier realised, he never wanted to leave this place, not ever.

“But you must,” whispered Joaquin, though Olivier had not voiced the thought out loud. “You must. If you stay you will always belong here. If you leave, don’t look back, just go, then maybe we can both be free.”

Olivier didn’t want to...he wanted to stay here, to never leave to be with Joaquin always.
“But you must.” Joaquin’s voice was but a whisper as he re-dressed them both. “I can never leave if you don’t go now. Now with the taste and smell and feel of me on you. Only then can I be free.” Tears laced his eyes, threatening to spill down his perfect cheeks. One last strawberry kiss was placed on Olivier’s lips then Joaquin pushed him and Olivier took a step backwards.

He could feel the truth of what Joaquin said, yet he did not know how it was possible. He took another step back and pain zapped through him, an ache, bearable but strong. He looked at Joaquin and took another step back, then another.

“Go.” The words were whispered but he knew they were important. “Look around, don’t watch me” And so he did and the fog that had stayed out of the garden was working its way in. The roses, so full not minutes earlier, were dying and brittle. As he breathed in he noticed the air no longer smelt like lavender and honeysuckle but the dank, rotted smell of dead leaves and dying autumn foliage. He looked to the arbour, needing to see Joaquin before he left the garden completely...but there was nothing there. Only a tumble-down structure framed with decaying stems.

Unbelievable sadness caught in his throat and he turned and fled. Back through the tangle of brambles and the rusting gates. Past the house that bore all the signs of a college Halloween party, back through the woods and town til he was home in his own room.

That night he dreamt of almond eyes, black silk and roses.


The gift-shop where Olivier worked was thriving as shoppers looking for early Christmas bargains searched the shelves and rails. Olivier was wrapping a delicate ivory coloured photo frame in pale pink tissue paper and thinking about the paper he had to finish before the end of term, when the sound of wind chimes filled the shop. He paused in his task and looked up, but nobody else showed any signs of having heard. He carried on wrapping until the subtle scent of roses made him pause again. This time as he looked up his eyes found those that had been haunting his dreams.

Joaquin was looking straight at him, a grin playing across his perfect mouth. He was different, though Olivier couldn’t put a finger on why. He passed over the gift wrapped frame and took the customers money, repeating this action until it was Joaquin standing in front of him. He took the faery statue from Joaquin’s hands and chose silver tissue to wrap it in, barely able to suppress the shaking that had started in his hands.

“Hush,” said a rose-scented scented voice in his ear. “I’m different because I am real now. I am here and real and we will have forever.”

Thursday, 18 September 2014

A favour, a favour...pretty please.

Hi guys...I'm here to ask a favour....

Game On, First Time, Fighting Dirty and In Deeper are all available for free at Smashwords (yay). My intention is for these stories to be free in all places - however, Amazon does not have a facility for an author to make the book free. The lowest price we can choose is $0.99, which is about 77p.

There is a way though, and it's people power. Or reader power. If readers go to the Amazon page selling the books, under the Product Information section there is an option to tell Amazon about the book being sold cheaper elsewhere. I've highlighted it in yellow on the screen image I've put below.

Readers in America have kindly done this for Game On and it is now free on This doesn't carry across all the Amazon sites though.

When you click on the tell us about a lower price tab it opens a window,  asking where you saw the lower price. If you click the on-line option it will ask for a URL and price option. The price will be 0.00, and I will put the URL's below, for copy and pasting purposes.

Thank you in advance to anyone who helps me out - I would much rather all these stories were available for free.


Game On:
Smashwords URL:

First Time (Game On 1.5):
Smashwords URL:

Fighting Dirty:
Smashwords URL:

In Deeper:
Smashwords URL:

Amazon screen image.

Product details

Format: Kindle Edition

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

First Time (Game On 1.5) by Olley White

For all of you who wanted that little bit more of Stefan and Max, here is their....First Time.
Available for free from Smashwords.

(14.5) What if I don’t like it?
Max would have sworn up and down, left and right and on the holy bible that he wasn’t nervous. The hands that shook as he tried to shave, betrayed the lie though. Pausing for a minute, he took a deep breath and stared at his sud-covered reflection in the mirror. He wanted this more than anything. He’d thought about it a million times a day for weeks now. So why was he so nervous?
Steadying his hand, he pulled the razor through the soap on his face. It was after all only sex, he thought as he tapped the razor and rinsed it. It’s not as if you’re a virgin. “Yet it kinda is,” he muttered, wiping a flannel over his face and inspecting for any missed bits. Smooth as a baby’s botty, he was good to go. Sure, he’d lost his actual virginity at a best-forgotten year eleven party with Karen Philips when he was fifteen, this though was different. This was with Stefan, the man who turned him on more than anybody he’d ever met. The person Max had fallen so hard in love with he felt permanently stunned. It was more important than a fumble and spurt.
And. And. Max sighed. No matter how much he avoided thinking about it, the fact that there was going to be another dick involved was scaring him senseless. Not that he had any issues with Stefan’s cock, per se. No siree, it was a very nice cock. The touching, stroking and frotting they’d done so far had been magical. Better than any sex he’d ever had, but that made sense – he’d never been in love with anyone else and he didn’t care what anyone said, sex was much better when love and lust were involved. That was what made this so important. He loved Stefan. What if he messed up? What if he hurt him?
He wandered through to his bedroom and dressed in the clothes he’d already laid out. Brand new, fitted, cotton boxers. A shirt with a jumper over the top, and dark-blue jeans. He knew Stefan liked it when he was a little bit preppy and he needed every bit of  help he could get at this moment in time. What if he did it wrong? Or pushed too hard? Or damaged Stefan down there? Taking a deep breath, he ran a little gel through his hair, messing it just so with his fingers. Keeping busy and trying desperately to ignore the question that kept surfacing. What if he didn’t like it?
“What if I don’t like it?” The question blurted out as soon as Stefan opened the door. Neither the sight of Stefan in soft, faded jeans and T-shirt, nor the delicious cooking smells that wafted down the hall towards him could stop his motor-mouth from working.
“Well hallo to you too, handsome,” said Stefan. Grinning he clutched the front of Max’s jumper and pulled him forward for a kiss. Max melted into it. He didn’t think he would ever tire of kissing Stefan. Teeth nipped gently at his bottom lip and a tongue flicked into his mouth. He sighed as a million butterflies escaped from his stomach.
“If you don’t like it,” said Stefan, pulling back a little but not letting go, “then we stop.”
“I will still love you Max. This is not about sex, it’s about you and me and how damn perfect we are together. Besides, there’s more to sex than find a hole, fill a hole. It’s about us, touching, loving and feeling good.”
“And we already do that?” Max couldn’t stop the questioning tone of the statement.
“We already do that,” Stefan agreed. Leaning forward, Max claimed another kiss. The chapped roughness of Stefan’s lips sent shivers down his spine.  How did he get so lucky? Winding his arms around his boyfriend he pulled him so close their bodies melded as one. Damn, did kissing Stefan do crazy things to him. His cock stiffened and he ground his groin against Stefan’s, suddenly wishing their jeans were gone. Hands slipping under Stefan’s T-shirt, Max caressed the soft skin that was the top curve of Stefan’s arse. Letting his fingernails dig in, he tugged Stefan closer, melting as his boyfriend groaned.
“Maybe we ought to move this into the house,” Stefan whispered against his lips. “Unless exhibitionism is something you’re also considering? Though I have to let you know I’m not sure how cool I’d be with that, I’m not willing to share you with anyone. Sorry.”
Max could feel the blush spread up his neck and across his face as he moved forward and kicked the front door shut. He really didn’t want to know if anyone had seen him acting like a sex-starved teenager with Stefan. And, as his mouth claimed Stefan’s again, he found he frankly didn’t care. Minutes past, five or ten Max couldn’t have said. Mint and coffee and the subtle scent of lemon soap. Stefan tasted so fine and felt equally as good. Nowhere had ever felt as right to Max as being with Stefan. That was being in love he’d deduced, when every touch made you feel on fire and every smile told you that you were the only person in the world that mattered.
“Let me turn the oven off, we’ll eat later.” Stefan pulled away and Max toed off his shoes and dumped both them and the bag he was holding at the bottom of the stairs. Stefan’s house was small, a terraced two up, two down number, but he’d made it homely. The noise of traffic and pedestrians wasn’t quite drowned out by the single-glazed windows and headlights frequently swept across the living room from cars turning into the street – it was a far cry from Max’s quiet country cottage. It had one major thing going for it: Stefan.
A gentle head butted at his leg and he crouched down to stroke Oscar. “Who’s a pretty boy? Yes you are Oscar, most beautiful cat in the land.”  He rubbed his hand over the marmalade fur and tickled under the cat’s chin.
“I know three other cats that might disagree with that statement.” Stefan smiled and gently shooed the cat away, telling him, “He’s all mine, find your own man to fuss over.” Oscar stalked off, tail held high and Max laughed until the butterflies returned to his stomach. Max offered Stefan a shy smile and twined their fingers together, before pulling him closer. “Shall we go upstairs?” He hoped that wasn’t a wobble he heard in his voice.
Stefan nodded and led the way, keeping Max’s fingers gripped tightly in his. The bedroom smelt of furniture polish and Max could see the sheets were fresh on. It pleased him because he realised that maybe he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Sure, Stefan had shagged men before but this...relationship, this permanence, was new to both of them.
“I love you.” He faced Stefan and traced his fingers down the side of the other man’s face. Stefan closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“I love you too. So much.” Time paused and Max knew this was the truth, he could see it in the way Stefan looked at him and then his nerves were gone. Squashed by the overwhelming desire pooling in his belly. Smiling softly he pulled Stefan forward, brushed a brief kiss across his lips and then let his mouth and teeth graze gently at the sensitive skin on his neck. The soft moan Stefan let out went straight to Max’s cock and he couldn’t hold back his own groan. Warm hands caressed the skin under his shirt as they set about exploring each other’s bodies.  
Hands pulled at clothes, flinging them in a pile on the floor until they were both naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. This wasn’t new. They’d touched and caressed and frotted many times now. Max kissed softly at Stefan’s nipple, before sucking it into his mouth and rubbing his tongue over the hardening nub. Stefan’s fingers clenched where they held Max, causing tiny pricks of pain where his nails dug in. Max shivered in delight and started to kiss lower and lower down Stefan’s abdomen. Until he was there, right at Stefan’s dick.
The smell was intoxicating, all man, yet clean with a faint hint of lemons from the body-wash Max knew hung in Stefan’s shower. Tentatively he kissed the end, run his tongue around the hooded top then swallowed the length down until he could not comfortably fit any more into mouth. His heart pounded and Stefan’s whispered gasp made his own cock stiffen even more. He loved being able to make Stefan sound like that. Never having been on this end of a BJ before though, Max felt a bit lost – until he thought about what he liked.
Pulling back up the shaft he hollowed his cheeks and sucked while pushing back down. Another gasp from Stefan and Max repeated the action. Soon the salty flavour of Stefan was leaking into his mouth and Max’s dick throbbed at the thought of everything still to come. He’d never felt so turned on his life. His body was operating at high voltage, every tiny touch sending a shock to the very core of him.
Too soon, and yet not soon enough, Stefan pulled him off of his knob and back up his body. Plunging his tongue into Max’s mouth he kissed him thoroughly before saying, “I like my taste on you.”
Stefan’s hands found Max’s cock and pulled it, smearing pre-come along its length. Pressure built in the core of Max, those strong fingers could elicit feelings no females had ever managed. Then Stefan bent over and took Max in his mouth. Blackness washed over him, as Stefan sucked and licked and swallowed him so far down he thought he had died and gone to heaven. And then suddenly the encompassing warmth was gone and his dick ached to have it back again.
Stefan hadn’t stopped though. While fingers caressed Max’s nipples he felt his balls get sucked gently into his boyfriend’s mouth. He moaned, arching his back, needing more and yet not sure how he was going to cope.
“Is this alright?” Hot breath wisped across his nuts as Stefan spoke and Max realised he was so close to coming it was embarrassing.
“It’s perfect but I’m not sure I’ll...”
“You’re perfect. There is all the time in the world for you to do me. In fact, not too far from now you’ll be balls deep in my arse, making me whimper like an idiot.”
Max groaned at the thought. Of being that close to Stefan, connecting so deeply. Then he realised, that as much as he wanted to feel the tight heat of Stefan’s arse around his cock, what he really wanted  was Stefan to shag him.  Fuck, the idea scared the bejesus out of him...but it also made him so fucking horny. The thought of Stefan’s cock buried balls deep in his backside. Pre-come leaked from him even as he thought the idea.

“You.” Max managed to stutter. “I want you in me.” Any remaining blood in Stefan’s body drained south, his cock throbbed and he lost the ability to think.
“Stefan? Oh god, we don’t have to, I ‘m sorry I...” Max finally shut up when Stefan had enough gumption to pull himself up Max’s body and cover his mouth with his own.
“I love you Max. I love you so damn much.” Stefan longed to feel Max, to touch him, to bring him to the brink and watch him fall, but he’d accepted that he would bottom. Max had never questioned the fact that the person he had fallen in love with was a man. He’d also never been coy about asking questions. Stefan understood – gay sex wasn’t exactly covered in sex-education, at least it hadn’t been when he was at school. His own furtive explorations into man-on-man sex had been through porn websites and that had been both thrilling and as scary as fuck, to his fifteen year old self. Obviously Max had worked out the basics, but there was still stuff he wanted to know and Stefan had answered every question Max had
A sharp bite of his nipple, followed by the pressure of Max’s sucking mouth broke into Stefan’s train of thought.
“I want to Stefan. I want to feel you in me, know you are mine and I am yours and I don’t even care if I sound like some cheesy rom-com.” Heat pulsed through Stefan and knew he should say something romantic but really, other than the image of his dick buried on Max’s perfect arse, thinking was beyond his capability at the moment.
He looked at his boyfriend, at the lust he could see reflected in Max’s eyes and the cock hard against his stomach.  “Are you sure?” he managed to whisper. Max just nodded and kissed Stefan again, rubbing against him, heat and sweet and sticky.
Moving back down Max’s body Stefan nipped and sucked, licked and teased until Max was groaning so loudly Stefan thought he was going to come from the sound alone. He sounded so wanton and debauched; every low moan uttered grabbed Stefan’s balls and threatened to milk them dry.
He spread Max’s legs and sucked gently at the tight sac between them, letting his tongue drop lower teasingly. Max was incoherent and Stefan reached for the lube, thankful or the tests they’d done, he wasn’t sure he was capable of dealing with a condom at the moment. “Are you sure?” he whispered one last time. At the hissed yes he carefully caressed the sensitive skin of Max’s arse with first his tongue, then lube-covered fingers. He took his time, caressing and rubbing and waiting for the tightness to relax a little.
After a time he found Max’s mouth again and kissed him thoroughly, Pulling his fingers free he lined his dick up against Max’s hole, then pushed gently into him, watching carefully for any signs of pain. Slowly, the dark heat encompassed him. Beneath him, Max bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut and it took every bit of will-power Stefan owned to still himself and not thrust forward into the welcoming tightness.
He held still until Max began to move. Just tiny, tiny thrusts at first, that opened up his hole around Stefan and pulled him inside. Stefan sighed, nothing had ever felt so good before. Hands brushed over his chest and two pupil-blown eyes looked right at him.
“Fuck me please Stefan.” Max’s voice broke. Stefan knew not if it was with pain or lust, but he could feel the want and need in the hands that pulled him forward and deeper. In the hips that thrust harder with every movement forward and back. In the lip bitten between teeth, and the pre-come leaking from Max’s hardened cock. In the tight, deep space that Max had shared with no-one but him.
As Max moved faster, Stefan lost himself in the need building within him. His hips bucked, back and forth, the tightness and friction on his dick so fucking amazing. Soon the entire world shrunk to just him and Max. To the heat, the passion. The moans and need and warmth. Darkness surrounded him, but not a darkness to fear, one to cherish, to yearn for. Like a lady of the night it enticed him in and he moved faster and harder and needed just that little bit more....
Then the darkness encompassed him, swallowed him whole in its comforting blanket. He was aware enough to notice Max close his eyes, to hear the moan his lover uttered, and see the white paint itself over Max’s stomach.
As light filtered back into the world, he gathered enough wits to pull gently out of Max. Not caring about the come that smeared between them he pulled Max in close, kissing his mouth and whispering utter rubbish.
“Are you okay?”
Stefan almost didn’t want Max to reply. Nothing had come close to how wonderful that had been. There was no comparison to the joy that had swallowed Stefan whole. It would break him if Max hadn’t felt it too. Not beyond repair, but still...
“I’m more than okay.” Max’s voice was barely a whisper. “That hurt like buggery at first, but was like the pain didn’t matter anymore, like the pain was good.” Stefan didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry as he pulled Max closer and devoured his mouth once more. When they finally pulled apart Stefan let the urge to laugh break free.
“Of course it hurt like buggery you donkey, it was fucking buggery...”

Sex had never been like that before. Nothing could compare to the feeling of Stefan filling him. Even the tenderness in his arse didn’t matter – it only served to tell him that he’d shared something with Stefan that he hadn’t with anyone else. Max snuggled closer to Stefan, drowsiness washing over him. He needed a shower and some food, he knew that, but he wasn’t quite ready to let go of Stefan yet. The cooling stickiness between them was gross, yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.
“So you don’t have to worry about not liking it any more, huh?” Stefan’s voice was soft in his ear.
“Nope. That was the best fucking experience of my life!”
Of course it was the best fucking experience, I was the one doing the fucking.” Even in his drowsy state Max could hear the raised eyebrow that accompanied the remark. If he didn’t feel quite so sated he might just thump his lover.
“I love you,” he said instead, shutting his eyes and enjoying the perfect moment.

“I love you too,” came the sleepy reply and Max smiled to himself. He hadn’t believed in soul mates until he’d met Stefan. He did now though, he believed in them with all his heart.

Monday, 15 September 2014

Topping Daddy

In August not one, but two Unicorns celebrate their birthdays - on the same day as well! So, of course, I had to whip up a couple of birthday stories.

First up, for Plum Celestial Moon, is a tale of John the leather daddy who really wants to bottom....
My inspiration can be found here and here. Enjoy!!

The pub was crowded, as it always was on a Friday night. By ten the crowd would have thinned out a little as the younger folk disappeared off to various clubs, thank god. Fuck, thought John, sometimes he felt every one of his forty years. When did that happen? When did he go from being the one in the club dancing and fucking til dawn, to being the one in the pub wishing for the crowd to leave? He didn’t miss the dancing, but sometimes he really missed the fucking. Trouble was, he’d realised a while back, that a fumble and shag with complete strangers just wasn’t working for him anymore. Frankly his hand, a dildo and a bit of Colby porn got the job done just as well. Maybe it was a mid-life crisis but he wanted more from a man than just a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Stick another one in there love,” he told Shelly the barmaid, “and have one yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Shelly pulled him a pint of his favourite bitter and took a shot of gin and juice for herself. “So, how’s it going love, you and Cole worked it out yet?”
John parked his arse on a bar-stool and sighed. “Ain’t going to happen love. I’m far too old for him and...” he trailed off. It really wasn’t the place to discuss his sexual preferences, or the fact that he was a six foot two, leather-wearing daddy who liked nothing more than spreading his legs and having his hole filled. Nobody ever looked at him and saw bottom. Really, Shelly did not need to know all that.
“And?” Shelly ignored the queue forming while she waited for his answer.
“And nothing. I’m just not his type.”
Raising her carefully plucked eyebrows Shelly shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said, before turning to the line of waiting customers.
Cole. Cole, Cole, Cole. The bane of John’s life at the moment. A hydraulics expert used by John’s welding company; he’d been a presence in their workshop everyday for over six months. That had meant about roughly five months and twenty-nine days of lusting on John’s part. The fact that Cole was gay as well made it even worse in a way – like a tantalising fruit just out of reach. More than ten years younger, toned rather than muscle-bound, and several inches shorter than John, the man was as hot as fuck and a total bottom. John didn’t want to stereo-type, he hated when people did that to him, but there was no-way Cole would want to top him, no matter how many wet dreams he’d had at the thought. Once he’d convinced the rest of his workers that just because they were both gay didn’t mean they were going to end up shagging, he’d had to spend the rest of the time convincing himself the same thing.
Grabbing his pint he nodded to Shelly and wove his way through the crowds, keeping an eye out for any familiar faces. It was the local so he knew a good proportion of the people in there, didn’t mean he wanted to spend time with most of them though. Fuck was he getting grumpy in his old age. Maybe Shane would be here, or Ade, at least he could have a decent conversation with them. Just as he thought it, he spotted Shane and headed over to the already crowded table.
Damn. Talk of the devil and he’d appear. Sitting next to Ade, perched on the end of a bench, was Cole. In his tight jeans and skimpy leather vest he looked hot as all buggery and John’s dick twitched in hope. Down boy, he thought.  It ain’t gonna happen.
“John!” Shane greeted him, “might’ve known you’d appear just as I was about to get a round in. What’re you drinking.”
“Pint of bitter mate.” John downed the last of his previous pint.
“Hi John.” Cole looked up at him and John felt his groin tighten again. Was he wearing eyeliner? He groaned internally. Man he was so fucking hot.
“Shove up Ade,” Cole said. “Sit here John.” So John did, instantly aware of every inch of thigh that was wedged up against Cole.
Start it simple Cole, Cole told himself. God knows he’d spent six months trying to get this guy’s attention, if he didn’t get it tonight he was just going to have to give up, no matter how much he wanted the other man. Sometimes you had to get your pride back. Tonight was his last ditch effort. He’d gone all out and worn his sexiest gear, even if he did feel a bit of a twat sitting in the pub in what was essentially clubbing clothes. He’d be alright for another hour or so, until the pubs clubbers cleared off, then he’d stand out like a sore thumb amongst the well worn jeans and T-shirt brigade. Even John in his leather biker trousers and jacket looked like he fitted in better than Cole. If it meant he got John to shag him, it was worth the humiliation though.
“I managed to get that pipe work fitted up,” John was saying, “it’ll be ready for you to work on come Monday.”  Cole nodded. Work talk, it might be boring to some, but he took pride in what he did and knew John appreciated the hours he put in to get a job finished. Most of the men in the work-shop did a bit of overtime, but more often than not it was him and John working late to try and get a job out on time.
Cole welcomed this. John was the boss, too many times he’d been with firms where the boss was the last in and first out, and then all pissed off when a job wasn’t finished on time. John led by example, never expected more of his men than he was willing to give and understood family obligations...especially his workers with small children. He was as fair a man as Cole had ever met and this formed a huge part of Cole’s attraction to him. God, the evenings they’d been alone in the workshop, John working hard to try and solve a tricky problem and get a machine out on time. He looked so damn hot in his overalls, with dirt and grime smeared all over him. The times he’d thought of taking him home and washing every last inch of him.... Cole stopped that train of thought before it started, a boner in skin tight jeans was agony.
Okay, so last chance, time to get flirting, fuck knows he’d even bottom for this guy and that NEVER happened.
“So that last pipe, it was a tight fit I had to grease it really well to get it in.” Cole knew it was a random statement but he was done with subtle. John looked up from where his gaze was fixed on the dark dregs of liquid in his glass.
“What pipe?”
Cole shrugged, moved closer and said, “You know, any big pipe that needs to fit in a tight hole. It can be tricky but use lots of lubricant and it is also....” He raised one eyebrow, brought his bottle of beer up to his mouth and took a swig, making sure he sucked round the top of the bottle in a way that was overtly suggestive. Not really a good move in a pub teeming with straight men. Thank god he had his back to the majority of the room and John was built like a brick shit house, cos he didn’t feel like getting his head kicked in tonight. Not that any of the blokes he was sat with could give a flying fuck who he fucked but...yeah, it might be 2014, but not everyone was quite so this century. There were twats everywhere he’d come to realise over the years, ignorant and afraid of the unknown. Pushing the thought out his head he concentrated on giving head to the bottle he was holding.
“Cole you wanker, are you trying to get us in a fight?”
Damn, he’d just caught John’s interest when Lee broke his attention to the task in hand. Ignoring Lee he moved the bottle away from his lips and murmured just loud enough for John to hear. “Of course holes and pipes are perhaps more your area of expertise, say I had a problem...would you be willing to help me out?”
The groan that John was unable to contain caused Cole’s dick to harden even more. He really needed to invest in less tight jeans. “Is that a yes? I...wouldn’t want an amateur doing this job. I need a professional.”
“Did you just call John a pro? Like a prostitute?”asked Ade, who always thought he was Ricky fucking Gervais after a couple of drinks. Cole was going to kill the wanker.
“He asked for a professional opinion on a job he needs doing. Which is why he asked me not you, cos he’s seen that half-arsed shit you call welding and knows my five year old niece could do better with half an hour’s instruction?” John didn’t raise his voice, but everybody knew that was all that would be said on the topic, at least within ear shot.
“I happen to be an expert.”  Cole shivered at the words spoken so low only he could hear them. “I’m just wondering if I’m really the right person. I’m sure if you...kept’d find someone better.”
“Oh no. I’ve found the best, he just doesn’t do subtle apparently.” John harrumphed at that. “So, shall we go somewhere so I can show you the problem?” Cole asked, shivering at the sight of John’s intense gaze.
“If you’re sure, I’m definitely the man for the job.
John followed Cole out of the pub. Fuck morals and subtlety...tonight he’d hopefully fuck Cole. As much as he wanted the other man in him, he was willing to take any contact at all at this point, a guy couldn’t walk around as hot as all buggery and not expect a man to get turned on.
“My flat’s not far,” he said turning to Cole, “five minutes walking tops.”
“Lead the way.” So John did. He took the outside stairs to his flat above the gift shop and fumbled with the key in the lock. Cole’s hands, roaming round the tight leather clad across his arse, were not helping. God his touch felt good. After a lifetime he managed to get the door open and led the way into the small entrance hall. He’d barely shut the door when Cole had spun him round and pushed him smack against the wall. A hand found his crotch and rubbed the hardening mass there as a mouth closed over his. Despite his gentle appearance Cole was anything but. He bit at John’s lips and swept his tongue deep inside his mouth pushing his body hard against him. John’s insides turned to jelly as he let the other man take the lead.
“Bedroom?” The question was gruff, muttered between kisses as Cole’s fingers roughly tweaked John’s nipples. John pointed wordlessly to the bedroom door and followed Cole through.
Cole pushed him to the bed and followed him down, rutting against him like a dog in heat. “God you feel good.” The words floated into his mouth on a breath tasting of beer and man. He closed his eyes and moaned. Cole was so freaking hot like this.
“We need to get some of these clothes off,” John said, finally remembering how to talk. It had been far too long. How had ever thought that a dildo and hand could ever compare to the touch of another man.
“I agree.” John slid his hands under the leather vest Cole was wearing and pulled it up over his head. Every muscle underneath was smooth and defined. Not huge and bulging, but toned and so damn beautiful. He moved his hands up, skimming over a pierced nipple and causing the most delightful noise to be uttered from Cole’s mouth. Deciding he wanted to hear more of that, he pulled the other man back down and sucked the small nub, teasing the piercing with his teeth. Thrusting up, needing some kind of contact with his groin.
“We still need to do something about these clothes,” Cole uttered eventually. “As much as I like this, these jeans are going to be a pain to get off if I come in them first.” The thought that Cole was that turned on had John seriously close to coming in his own trousers.
Impatiently, they pulled at each other’s clothes, pulling off jeans and leather and well worn T-shirts. John had barely had time to appraise the beauty of Cole’s naked form, when a hot mouth closed over his dick, sucking and teasing like an expert. Teeth worried at the foreskin then lips pushed it back, sucking and tonguing the sensitive head beneath. John arched up into the touch, barely aware of his hands tugging the other man’s hair.
“Fuck I’d like to feel you inside me.” John couldn’t stop the words from spilling out and Cole stopped what he was doing.
Letting the hard dick slip from his lips he said, “You do?”
“So much. But don’t worry, I’ll top.” At that point in time, he needed Cole any way he could have him.
“No you fucking won’t. There is nothing I want more than to be buried balls deep in your arse.” John felt Cole’s cock throb as he said the words and moaned.
“You would?”
In answer Cole pushed up John’s legs and tongued the sensitive flesh of his balls. Heart pounding in his chest John gasped as the tongue trailed lower, until it was pushing against his opening. John’s whole body quivered as the strong muscle breached the entrance, pushing inside his body. Tongue and teeth teased and tormented until John was trembling with need and his cock was dripping with pre-come.
Cole pulled away and claimed his mouth again, kissing roughly, urgent and needy. “Lube?” he asked, and John pulled a condom and lubricant from his bedside drawers. He’d not even had a chance to taste Cole himself, he realised vaguely as a hard cock pushed against him. He opened his legs wider and the smaller man thrust in, and pain, then pleasure soared through John’s body.
As his body adjusted to the intrusion he thrust up, loving the feel being so full and the slap of Cole’s balls on his backside. He repeated the action, meeting Cole thrust-for-thrust. As they found a rhythm, rough and hard and so fucking good, John started to lose all concept of time and place. Smooth skin, and deceptively gentle eyes. Lithe muscles and a sense of being in charge. John let go. Cole was the pleasure and the pain. Cole was the need and the cure.
He own dick pulsed and throbbed with want, yearning for Cole’s touch. He left it alone until he could stand it no more. As Cole’s eyes darkened, pupils blown, shrouded in lust, John let his fist circle his cock and pump hard. Blackness engulfed him. A void of nothing but pulsing pleasure. His cock and arse were all of him at that moment in time. And all of him belonged to the lithe man on top of him, sweating and shuddering in his own world of pleasure.
Cole jolted once more, then gripped tight to the condom as he pulled out of John. The guy was a bottom. Fuck him if every single one of his dreams hadn’t just come true. He found the bathroom, disposed of the johnny and grabbed a flannel to clean up John. As he made his way back to the bedroom he had to pause. The man was beautiful. Muscled and strong and a chest covered in hair that trailed down to a cock that could only be called impressive even in its current flaccid state. Cole remembered the fullness in his mouth and hoped he’d get the chance to taste it again. His eyes trailed to the thick thighs and curve of muscled arse. He was everything Cole had ever wanted in a man, one night was not going to be enough, that he knew already. There were far too many ways he still wanted him.
As images of John bent over, arse reddened by handprints, then on his knees mouth full of Cole’s cock flashed into his head, he groaned and moved forward. Passing the cloth to John he climbed in beside him, claiming another kiss – this one more gentle than lustful.
“Please tell me this isn’t a one off?” he asked, not caring if he sounded needy.
“It’d better bloody not be.” John chucked the flannel into his laundry basket and returned Cole’s kiss. “I have plenty of plans for you yet.”

Good, thought Cole. But I bet I’ve got more.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Game On available from on-line stores.

Game on is available now to download from Smashwords (all formats) and Amazon. At the moment it is not free on Amazon as there is no option to price a book for free - however, if readers were to let Amazon know that this is available elsewhere for free the price will be dropped. Anyone who does this, I'm sending a huge thanks in advance. :)



NB: If you use Amazon in a country other than the UK or USA, Amazon will direct you to your 'branch'. :)

Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Fighting Dirty Too...Cover Reveal

As many of you know, I was lucky enough to claim two fabulous prompts this year for the Love's Landscapes event. These prompts resulted in Fighting Dirty and Game On. The thing is, the Fighting Dirty that I submitted wasn't actually my first thoughts for the prompt...but me, being me, decided that the story I was writing didn't fit the prompt as well as I would have liked so I started again.

Rather than just leave the story I had originally started though, I promised Tina, the prompter, that I would finish the it. So I have. 

Fighting Dirty Too is currently being beta read, but I can tell you this contemporary twist to the characters of Ethan and Fitz comes in at about 18k and I hope to have it available as a free download very shortly. In the meantime the wonderful, designer extraordinaire, Natasha Snow has designed me an amazing cover - so this is my cover reveal!! I feel like there should be a drum-roll....

So, for your perusal....Fighting Dirty Too.

Isn't it amazing?