Saturday 22 December 2012

Adults Corner #12

This posting is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.
It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

These are parts of stories that are still being written. And therefore haven’t had a BETA read, let alone a editing from me.

I am sorry, but due to family functions and home problems I have not been able to write any more for book 4.5—I have started it up, but there isn’t enough to post.
I am hoping that I can write, and post the rest of the story for you in the next week.

Look forward for a Christmas story, on the 25th.

The Werewolf I know
(Moonlit Wolves #17)

This is what I wrote. The idea that created the book for me, enjoy and sorry for the roughness roughness
“What’cha reading?” Caleb said as he plonked down on the bed next to Steven, it bounced twice as Stev tried in vain to push the magazine he was looking at under his add. It didn’t help that he had forgotten the tent in his soft shorts. Shit. The sweat was starting to roll off his forehead he was blushing so much.
     Caleb laughed, “Seriously dude, let’s see?” he  said, a point made as he flicked his eyes at Steven’s tent.
     Caleb was 6 months older then Steven, they had been living next door to each other since, well, since Steven could remember, and beyond. He was different then Steven though. Going to a different school when they had reached high school. Hanging in completely different crowds, and dressing for said. Caleb moving in the line of Lad, right up, to the already inked phased etched on the underside of his right arm, Steven didn’t know what it said, since it was in another language, and he hadn’t had the balls, or really, care to ask.
     His baby blue polo shirt had its collar flipped up. The bill of his cap looked at the roof. And his convo pants hung low and a little baggy.
     His rough brown hair was thankfully, just cut short, never touched except when washed, it sat with that styles messiness some people take hours creating. His deep blue eyes were his focus point, and what everyone fell in love with. Though his hundred watt smile, with slightly crocked lower tooth, didn’t make things worse.
     “Oh, hot,” Caleb said making Steven focus on what was happening. The magazine was now open over his lap, where it had been. His thumb and fingers were still holding on, a bookmark of the water drenched man, mostly naked as he posed up to the celling.
     His dark hair was plastered to his head. This hands were up, the water touching all points of his magnificent body, his biceps, his pecks, the hard rib of his abs. the hard curve of his thigh, the dark fabric as it clung to his cock.
     “Wait…wha…?” Steven said as what Caleb said registered. But it was already past that point. Caleb was all eyes on the mag, and pulling at one corner enough to get Steven to let go or ruin the page. He let go.
     Steven watched as Caleb flicked each page over, looking for something, though he seemed that there wasn’t a rush, taking his time to full scan each pic before he flipped the two next. Steven even had enough time to take his look.
     “That’s better,” he muttered as he leant back against the head board and palmed his cock above his shorts.
     Steven looked back down, his eyes focusing on the man that Caleb had deemed better. He wasn’t wrong. Broad shoulders and the thinner, flatter waist, his nipples where dark pin pricks. A thick snail tail of dark hair followed the way from belly button into his bright blue undies. Thick thighs stood slightly apart, as he posed for the picture. His face was sharper than the one Steven had been looking at, hitting more toward beautiful than rugged. It made him seem…different. Less imposing. Shyer maybe. Though the man was clearly not.
     Steven swallowed as he looked, trying to see what was better over the need to grip himself and pull. He was horny, it happened all the time. No big deal, didn’t mean he didn’t want to do anything about it. Hell the pic made him need to get himself off.
     “What’s the next one?” Caleb said what sounded like a moan and had Steven looking over at him. Unfortunately he didn’t get any further than his buddy’s crutch. His shorts had been pulled down at the front, a quick resource to get rid of them so that his hand had free range to his cock. Which was now plump, thick, flushed a deep pink as Caleb steadily moved his hand up and over the crown and down, slamming the side of his hand into the top of his balls, which were pulled up and dusted nicely with dark curls.  
     Steven’s mouth watered, his lips went dry and his tongue decided to take four hours to lick just the bottom lip. Caleb moaned deep, his hips buckling up into his hand.
     “Fuck, man,” Caleb hand left his cock, disappearing to god knows where, and Steven got a unobstructed looked at perfection.
     His mate’s cock was marvellous, the first he’d seen in real life that wasn’t his own or his old mans. The foreskin had been naturally pushed down, bunching up at the base; Steven wanted to feel them under his lips. Pull them, see what it was like. the shiny head glisned ever brighter, an inviting taste, like someone else had already licked it.
     Steven’s tongue still hadn’t come back home yet, there it was, still licking at his lower lip as he panted in sight of his first cock. Didn’t matter whose it was. Hell, maybe it being Caleb’s did matter. Maybe because Caleb was the first person that ever released Steven’s secret and had seemed to be of that persuasion himself. Maybe that helped.
     Maybe he was just horny, and there was a cock, wet head. Solid frame, begging to be licked like an ice-cream melting in the sun.
     “Do it,” Caleb groaned making Steven realise he was leant over, his mouth so close to his mates crutch that the smell of him, that lynx smell had given way to one that was all Caleb.
     With a staling tongue Steven leant the rest of the way. One hand coming to rest on the fabric cover on his bed. The other the hard thigh that was all Caleb. The tip of his tongue flicked into the slit. A burst of flavour so different from his own, and yet still holding that bitter edge that spoke of being a man.
     Fingers cupped the back of his head, a small push down worked with the lift of hips, had Steven’s nose being pushed into that hardened flesh, showing Steven, as odd as it was, that it was only flesh and that he could obviously do what he wanted with it.
     Steven did.
     That was when they were fourteen

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