Simon Sheppard: Best Gay Erotica 2012

“Hey, son, this is great, but you know why I’m here, right?”

“Dad’s a whore. I knew that already. I’m horny and got money in my pocket to spend on a man I’ve wanted since I first got pubes. Come on, Dad. I’m gonna fuck you good.”

Soon they were in Rock’s suite. Rock threw a few C-notes on the bed, sat on the couch, opened a beer, undid his jeans, grabbed a bottle of lube and nodded to Randy while stroking his own huge dick.

“Okay, Dad. Strip for me. And make it last.”

Randy had stripped before, both in bars and for clients. Having no innate sense of rhythm or gift of movement, he’d developed a technique that had served him well over the years, developed by hours of practice in front of a narrow mirror.

He spread his legs and slowly removed his motorcycle jacket, letting it fall with a soft thud to the floor. Then came his leather vest, removed with a single, simultaneous movement of both shoulders. With a final shrug, it too found the floor. Looking into Rock’s eyes, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it quickly off, letting it drop. He left the white, ribbed singlet stretched across his broad chest, before slowly turning around, bending over and, grabbing the flies from both legs of his chaps, slowly pulled up on the zippers until they fell open. Standing erect, he undid the snaps, finally letting the chaps share the floor with the rest of his gear. Facing Rock again, Randy slowly unbuttoned the leather under-chaps, letting them fall down his legs to his still booted feet. He kicked of the shorts and stood naked except for leather gloves, boots and cap.

“Shit, Dad. Turn around and show me the hole I’m gonna fuck. Oh, yeah. Sweet, hairy Daddy hole. I gotta eat that ass. Bend over, fucker.”

Randy turned around, slowly bending forward as he grabbed his booted ankles. Rock’s tongue assaulted his hole with the same insistence with which it had invaded his mouth, laying claim to it, preparing it for what was to come, enjoying the taste and scent of the orifice. With one movement, Rock stood and pushed Randy face-first onto the bed. In a moment, Randy was bound spread-eagle, testing the restraints to show off straining muscles. A few more bills fell onto the mattress.

“You okay with bareback, Daddy whore?”

“Yes, but you should know…”

“Shut up. All I wanted to hear was ‘yes.’ You know, I think I’ll call my posse so they can fuck you, too. Don’t worry, I got a wad of C-notes to pay for each of my bros… Hey, Joe? Yeah, he’s here. You and the boys come up and take turns with him when I’m done. Yeah, raw is cool. Head up now so you can see me shoot my first load, Yeah, it’s a sweet hairy Daddy ass. Worth every fucking penny. Hey, I’m done talkin’, ’kay? Get the boys up here… All right, now bite the pillow and take it like a man.”

Rock was on top of him, his rigid cock dripping honey and looking for the moist, warm harbor between Randy’s buttcheeks. Tentatively, it approached the waiting orifice, slowly but steadily pushing its way toward its goal. When the head had been engulfed in the warm, hairy flesh of Randy’s fuck hole, he gasped with pleasure at the same moment Randy gasped in pain. Rock pulled back only slightly before continuing to push inside Randy, who could only groan in response to the delicious anguish. After what seemed an eternity, Rock was fully embraced by Randy’s hole, a hole grabbing onto the huge cock, grasping for the bulbous head striking against the prostate and sending shivers up and down Randy’s hairy, bound body. Rock’s pace increased, slowly at first, in both strength and speed, pounding harder against the hard rock that was Randy’s prostate as it prepared to shoot sperm against the sheets beneath the sweating bodies thrashing together as they reached their climax. Joe and the others came in just as Rock screamed and made the last, hard thrust inside Randy, letting his seed spew deep inside Randy, marking Randy as his own. At the same moment, Randy came, his hard cock spurting spunk against his belly. Rock caught his breath a moment before roughly disengaging himself with a slap on Randy’s restrained, hairy ass. Rock shook the sweat from his face as he smiled at the posse of young men, all of them engorged and prepared to take Rock’s place.

“All yours, guys. And don’t worry, he’s paid for. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Rock.”

“Man, you’re the best, Rock.”

“Awesome!”

“I love a hairy ass.”

“I’m gonna breed Daddy good.”

Randy grunted and groaned as if it were all too much, thus bringing the excited young men to quicker climaxes, filling him with ball juice that leaked from his hole and down his scrotum, forming a small puddle on the bedding beneath him.

“Okay, guys. Remember to keep it in your pants so you got a load for tomorrow’s shoot.”

Rock could not resist a final fuck, pounding Randy’s juicy wet hole until he shot his spunk deep inside the bound bottom. Afterward, Rock rolled over, lit a cigar and set Randy free. They passed the cigar back and forth for a few minutes.

“Need to cum, Dad?”

“No, I came while you were fucking me the first time. What’s this about a shoot?”

“Yeah, see we’ve started a new company, all ’bout young studs fucking their Dads. And I want you to be our first star. We came here looking for talent and man we found it.”

Rock slapped Randy’s ass, which was a signal for Randy to collect the cash strewn around the bed.

“I get paid, right?”

“Yeah, you’re our fucking star, and you’re gonna sign an exclusive contract with us, Dad. But I need you to work the crowd here, see. You’re gonna wear one of our DADDY BITCH T-shirts and walk around the Leather Mart making friends and stirring up interest. Here, put on those shorts you had on beneath your chaps, and your boots and shit. Here, wear this T-shirt, extra tight, right? Yeah. All right, take this and do some shopping while you’re there. Buy yourself something pretty. And one more thing…”

Rock peeled a few more bills off his roll and handed them to Randy. When Randy was dressed, Rock locked a chain around his neck, kissed him and pushed him toward the door with another slap on the ass.

“You’re sleeping with me tonight. In fact, why don’t you just move your stuff in here later?”

Randy was in the hall counting the bills that had been thrown at him and collected with a degree of apparent chagrin that Rock had clearly relished. Smiling, he headed to the Leather Mart, beginning his final reinvention before retirement and inevitable disappearance—assured that he would be remembered as a Hot Stud for decades to follow.

It wasn’t easy, back in those university years, to know if other people were gay or not. It wasn’t easy to know if I was.

In my first year I shared a room in a student house in the center of Edinburgh with a burly fellow rugby player named Jack. Although rugby was about the only thing we had in common we rubbed along well enough. We visited the Edinburgh bars together, often in the company of the pair of lads who shared the room below ours. One of them, Mike, played on the same rugby team as Jack and I did; the other, a small elfin boy called Luke—and now that I’ve used the word elfin you know how this sentence is going to end—did not.

I didn’t get a chance to discover whether Luke and I had anything in common during the whole of that first year. When the four of us were out together our conversation was general, laddish, and I seldom spent time with Luke alone. During our second term Jack and Mike switched from rugby to hockey, while I did not. I was quite relieved in a way. It gave me an excuse to drop out of rugby. I’d never enjoyed the sport that much, to tell the truth, but I had the build, the strength and the skill, and at five foot eleven I looked the part. I’d played at school as a matter of course, and I’d gone along when Jack suggested I join the team that first term at uni. But now that I’d stopped, and Jack and Mike were into a different game, played on different days, those beery four musketeer evenings became less frequent and finally petered out altogether. By that time Jack had got himself a girlfriend anyway, and Mike was trying hard to follow suit.