Hidden or Exposed: A Collection of Lusty Gay Male Tales by Jason Maxwell
Gay! Simply hearing the word brings up all sorts of images, from an eye for the dramatic to an inimitable sense of style. But who can forget the sex. Gay love-making has become something of an art these days and even more pleasurable, what with familiarity having entered the doors of evolution. This is what makes the act so very enchanting. It touches the borders of romance and raw primal instinct. Such balance brings to homo sex a touch of magic. It's no wonder it's hot!
In this collection of 13 Gay erotica short stories, a debut author by the name of Jason Maxwell decided to dabble in something he loves very much. His passion for the art of gay sex has found him standing in the shallow end of the Erotica Lake.
These 13 tales take place in a real-life setting where actual gay emotions of doubt, like 'is he into me?' or even 'wish he were straight?', pleasure-thoughts, lustful urges and more war in the hearts of the characters playing their natural roles in each story.
What happens when a straight city boy gets lost and meets a farm hand who looks like he leaped out of a magazine cover? What about Josh who feels Greg's friendship isn't what he wants most? When Jake is heading to work and gets embroiled in a rape-like moment, doesn't he look like he's enjoying it instead of the other way round?
Watch the intricate layers unfold as an Indian homeowner and his unusually attractive manservant have a go at the forbidden act. A lot can happen in a train commute, as Hank figures out when he's followed by and loses his virginity lost to a being that doesn’t seem human. What happens when one handsome but desperate gay dude summons a demon to take on the likeness of his favorite soap star?
These are but a few of the 13 tales awaiting the reader whose lusts have taken on an element of limitless demand. From the varied settings to the diverse circumstances, these short stores are made to give you pleasure by transporting you to 13 different settings and letting you unwrap the literary package simply by reading.
Hardcore homosexuality content including anal sex, blowjobs, consensual rape, vampirism, supernatural elements, stalking, rimming and, well, whatever makes the gay soul explode with ecstasy. No bdsm involved.
The guy before him was what he always wanted. Wanted to be, that is, to look like. As the tall guy turned to glance behind him, Drake got a good view of his profile. His nose was curved inward, ending sharp. His lips were perfectly placed; his eyes looked etched on his person. And then there was the jaw.
He had this long curvaceous lower jaw, angling out and down and ending in a strong chin. It was nothing short of fine sculpture, that’s how appealing his jaw looked. It was adequately complimented by his fair softly-textured hair.
Add this to his other perfections, and this guy belonged nowhere near a farm. Yet he clearly worked here. Why does life throw such people in places like this? Drake was awestruck by…
“Lance,” he introduced himself, hand reaching out for a shake.
Now, Drake was not into guys. He was straight as could be, favoring the pussy any time of the day. So he wasn’t attracted to Lance in that way.
Drake and Lance shook hands. An awkward pause later, Drake asked, “May I use your phone?”
Lance grinned, sheer perfection of dentistry. “Don’t have one,” he said, sounding sincere. “I’ve yet to repair the one that died two days ago. Had a tractor that needs fixin’ first,” he said, pointing a thumb behind to indicate the repairs that had kept him occupied in the basement. There was probably a garage entry on the other side through which he’d towed the vehicle.
“Do you have any way I can get outta here?” Drake asked, sounding impatient, getting right to the point of his problem.
“You look tired,” Lance observed, and correctly so.
“It’s the sun. I’ve been walking under it for an hour,” Drake explained.
“Say what. Why don’t you go up to the house? There’s a room to your right. Take a nap, get your bearings. It’ll take me a while to fix up the tractor. I’ll drive you to town after, okay?”
What he said made sense. His unnaturally good looks made it difficult to believe he was lying. He sounded sincere enough. But he was still a stranger, still unknown to Drake.
Exhaustion won the bid, and Drake decided to take him up on his offer. He could take care of himself if anything bad were to happen. Why were his thoughts going in this direction? Must be all those horror flicks.
He went around to the front of the farm house and climbed the rickety porch. A gust of wind hit him, almost urging him to go inside. He did just that, because the breeze was too warm and it reminded him of how tired he really was.
He found the room exactly where Lance said it would be. After washing up in the attached restroom, Drake took off his backpack, threw it on a chair and fell flat on the bed. His eyes closed the second he landed, and the coolness indoors tempted sleep.
“Just a nap,” he muttered to himself. There wasn’t any other way out of here, and he felt grateful for Lance’s offer to drive him to town. These country types are so polite, he thought to himself, before he dozed off.
Drake was obsessed with sex. He wanted nothing better than to fuck a few girls, and fuck them well and truly. As a consequence of such lustful desires, he had dreams to match. Right now, he dreamt of a beautiful tanned chick giving him an exceptional blowjob. He recalled having seen her on the subway, and he memorized her face for a private time such as now.
It was such a vivid dream, he could feel every sensation and it was awesome. What Drake didn’t count on was the sex obsession in other people. Drake wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming or coming out of one, but he opened his eyelids ever so slightly, a natural reflex to take in the sight of the imaginary girl blowing him.
And down below was Lance. His face was angled to give the best view of his sexy jaw, the curve and shape of which could well be the stuff of legend. His full slim lips wrapped Drake’s cock like a ribbon around a present.
Drake closed his eyes again, refusing to believe what he just witnessed. He attributed it to his earlier admiration of Lance’s beauty and accepted to himself that this was the doing of his subconscious, giving a straight man something he abhorred when he least expected it.
He opened his eyes again, only to find Lance still sucking away. If Drake were gay, this would be a paradise to beat all others. A man like that is the cream of the gay crop, but not for Drake. He desired women. Slowly, he began to realize he wasn’t going to wake up, because this wasn’t a dream to begin with.
His heterosexual nature came into play. He shot upright in bed and, not knowing why he did so gently rather than roughly, pushed Lance’s head away from his still throbbing cock. Drake felt violated, abused. It showed on his face. Lance stood up from where he’d been kneeling, turned about and left the room, hurrying to get away.
Drake turned to sit on the edge of the bed so his feet touched the floor. He still refused to accept what just happened. He didn’t quite understand how he could remain so calm in the light of such an invasion on his privacy and person. He didn’t like it. Then why, he asked himself, did he push Lance away gently? Why, he asked himself, did he… like looking at him when he sucked for that handful of seconds?
These were indeed dangerous questions. Questions that implied things Drake would sell his liver to refuse existence of. He was not gay. He liked girls and pussies, not guys and cocks. This was all wrong.
Gaining his feet slowly, he moved a few steps forward, away from the bed. Like a zombie, he walked outside the bedroom, backpack forgotten, shoes lost to consciousness. There comes a time in a man’s life when he must own up to things. Drake had always been a rebel, he’d always fought back. There was something about Lance he couldn’t place.
His perfection and his ridiculous boldness—this last as recent events proved. Just the very idea of him made Drake think twice about a lot of things concerning himself. He took a right from the bedroom entrance, following the path Lance had fast-walked in. He felt out of control, as though willingly reaching for an oasis he wished was a mirage.
Lance wasn’t in the other room. He’d run outside, toward the barn, as the open back door testified. On running out the door, a flash of blinding white light assaulted Drake’s eyes, and he awoke in bed, panting.
It was a dream. It was all a fucking dream!
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