Wired Hard 3: Even More Erotica for a Gay Universe

Excerpt:
Coach Edwards was fucking me. I couldn't believe it. His short dark hair was matted with sweat. His deep brown eyes were filled with lust and that same confident glow that had always attracted me. His thick, uncut cock was driving itself deep into my willing bowels. His cock was so fucking big, so hard. I'd never seen it hard before. No, I must have seen it hard before, just a few minutes ago I had been sucking him. Was it him? It must have been.

Memories of seeing him wearing nothing but a jock flashed through my head ... his cock flashed up my ass. I used to find reasons to be around him after class so I could see him strip down and walk into the showers. He had been a wrestler in college. His ass was firm and round, shoulders broad, waist thin. He never seemed to mind me watching him.

I always assumed he knew I was watching and that he knew I was a fag. It scared me that he knew ... that he might want to kick my ass or kick me out of class or, worst of all, fuck me. It scared the crap out of me that he might want me and by taking me prove that I was the fag that I was sure I was.

I am young, I am stupid, the coach is fucking me, I must be a fag but I know that. I've known that since I was nine. I've been comfortable with it since my second year in college. I am a fag, it's good to be Gay, I'm here, I'm queer, slam that big dick into me.

"Wait!"

I'm not that young, I'm not that stupid, this isn't high school, I'm twenty-eight years old. "Fuck me coach, fuck me."

How can the coach be fucking me? Why do I care? His cock feels so right. The best of every cock I ever wanted and didn't get. It's all in me, sliding in me, pushing all my buttons. How did the coach get here? I went to high school in Fresno. I live in L. A. I wasn't cruising. I don't do that any more. It's not safe.

Is this safe? I don't remember a rubber. He used to talk about rubbers but that was to keep the girls from getting knocked up. All the guys would snigger when he talked about it. I used to get hard thinking about his big cock with a rubber stretched over it. Is he wearing a rubber? Do I care?

"Fuck me!"

He stopped, grinned, little flecks of bronze burned at the edge of the iris of his eyes. "I always knew you wanted my cock Blair," he said. "The way you watched me gave you away."

"Don't stop."

He drew his hips back like he was going to pull out of me then slid slowly back in. "Don't worry Blair. I'm not going anywhere."

I reached out my hand and brushed my thumb across his lips. "He hasn't changed," I thought. "It's like we're the same age now." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine then began to fuck me again ... slowly this time. His tongue pressed against my lips, I let him slide it into me. For some reason I had never imagined him kissing me. The kiss was as warm and hot as the fuck was deep and fulfilling. This was perfect. This was not possible.

I slid my hand between us and pressed against the firm muscles of his chest. He broke the kiss and raised himself up on his elbows. The smell of his warm breath filled my senses.

"It was the spell wasn't it?" I asked.

He took his time answering ... slid his cock back then took a long slow stroke that didn't end until his heavy nuts rested against my ass. "Spell? Spell what?"

He grinned. His heart beat beneath my fingertips. The sweat streaked smoothness of his chest rose and fell with each breath. "I must have done something wrong." I tried to remember what had happened. It couldn't have been more than half an hour ago. It could have been eternity. My cock throbbed against my belly. I was so close. How long had he kept me here?