A Steaming Collection From The Bestselling Author Of Bareback Mountain! Frank Sol, author of Bareback Mountain and Party Boy, cements his reputation as the hottest new writer of gay male erotica in a decade! In this brilliant anthology of stories, Frank Sol introduces readers to the bare facts of gay male sexuality. Don't miss this scorching compilation of stories!
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HOTTY SCOTTY
We all staggered into the apartment sometime after one, still
giggling from the joking around in the back of the taxi. We'd had
enough to drink during our night out that we currently weren't feeling
any pain. The bar had been packed with hot college-aged guys and
beautiful girls and we'd partied harder than Fred and I were used. We
were much into bars, but Scotty had invited us out with his buddies
and we accepted.
Given that the master bedroom was the largest room in the apartment,
we all ended up stumbling in there.
Scotty fired up the computer.
I sprawled out on the queen-sized bed and stared up at the ceiling.
Fred brought a couple of Smirnov Ices from the fridge. I slugged a
good dose of mine back in one long swallow.
Scotty was really cute. Baby-faced, green eyes, and blond hair. He
was young, he was hot, and he knew it.
But did he know that Fred and I both wanted him?
He wanted to stay overnight with us, in the spare bedroom, so he
wouldn't to have drive back into town early for work after celebrating
his new job with his other friends at one of the local bars. That made
perfect sense of course, him not wanting an hour's drive home after
partying, then having to get up and come back into town a few hours
later for work. We'd said yes in an instant to his request; the chance
to ogle him for the night was just too good to pass up.
Maybe we can get him drunk and willing to have a little man-to-man
fun, Fred had commented to me when he'd told me Scotty had first
suggested crashing here for the night.
I have no problem with that, I'd replied with a grin.
Now here we all were.
* * * *
`Now she's hot.` Scotty was logged into some chat room, flirting
outrageously with some woman in the States.
`Hundreds of kilometers away,` I muttered. `A complete waste of time
for everyone involved.` I'd taken off my t-shirt and pants and was
lounging on the bed in just my purple silk boxers. Officially I was
reading a novel, but in actuality I was enjoying my view of Scotty.
Blond hair, strong chin, pretty green eyes. A total stud.
Fred was perusing one of his car magazines and idly stroking my leg
with his hand.
`Have I shown you guys my new tat?` Scotty asked suddenly.
`No.`
I nodded. `You're holding out on us, Scotty.`
`I didn't know you had any old tats,` Fred added.
Scotty stood and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Okay, he peeled
off his snug gray t-shirt, revealing his well-defined chest. He was
hairless--natural not shaved--and his biceps rippled nicely. Not
overly muscled, but nice. Very nice. The waistband of his boxers was
showing above his Tommy jeans.
The tat was of the Superman emblem.
`So you're Scotty Superman?` I teased.
`Yep,` he replied with another of his boyish grins.
`The man of steel?` I asked, licking my lips.
`Yep.`
`I'd like to see that,` I muttered.
`Maybe I'll show it later.`
`Promises, promises.`
`You are so wasted.` Fred giggled as he watched Scotty down most of a
second Smirnov in one long swallow.
`But I'm friggin' happy,` Scotty told us.
We just shook our heads.
`Ah, the energy of youth,` I murmured. `And the stamina I hope.`
Scotty turned back to his chatting.
I leaned toward Fred and kissed him. `You're wonderful,` I told him
in a soft voice.
`So are you,` he replied.
I dropped my hands down to the fly of his blue Wrangler jeans.
`You're getting hard,` I told him in a low tone. I glanced over at
Scotty. `No surprise why though.` I was already semi-hard in my own
boxers and had been for most of the night. One reason I'd been lying
on my stomach.
He looked surprised by my openness. `What are you trying to do?`
`Have some fun.`
