Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Hooking Up (#flashfiction #gayerotica #gayflashfiction)

I follow the guy into his bedroom, eyeing his ass in those tight jeans. I don’t normally hookup with daddy-types on Grindr, but something about this dude is making me hard. He turns around and sits on his bed, giving me a sly grin. I immediately fall to my knees in front of him and grab the zipper on his fly, yanking it down. I need to get to that daddy-cock.

“Whoa,” he says, placing a hand on top of mine. “What’s the rush?”

“It’s sex,” I say, sort of confused by his hesitation. “Get off and get out, you know.”

He wraps his fingers around my hand, holding me tight. “I thought we’d kiss a bit, enjoy the moment.”

“I don’t kiss,” I say. “Kissing is for lovers — this is just a hook-up.”

He chuckles and I get a surge of irritation. If I had known he wanted a boyfriend, I would’ve hooked up with someone else. He pulls me to my feet, then has me sit next to him on the bed. I can’t help but let out a sigh of frustration. I want to eat his load, not kiss his lips.

He doesn’t let go of my hand and we end up just holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. He’s attractive, I’ll give him that. And his charm on Grindr was what had won me over. I guess I can indulge him, if only just for a few moments.

Not letting go of my hand, he puts his other hand on the back of my head and slowly pulls me toward him.  Our lips press together and he starts to kiss me. I don’t want to be like a dead fish to him, so I kiss him back.  He moans softly into my mouth and that sound of pleasure, that burst of warm air of him sighing into my mouth, seems to turn something in me… something… I wasn’t sure what.

With my free hand, I reach up and caress his chest, feeling his muscle through his shirt. Soon, I move my hand up to the back of his head, holding him the way he’s holding me, and I kiss him passionately. It feels unnatural, at first, but the more I do it, the more I get into it.

He nibbles on my bottom lip and I moan just like he had done. He nudges me backward and I fall down on the bed, breaking our kiss for a moment, making me desperate for his closeness again. I almost whimper in need, but then he lies next to me and rolls onto me, propping himself up with his hands. He presses his lips against mine and suddenly that warmth and connection is back. I open my mouth and let him slip his tongue inside. I caress his tongue with mine, feeling the velvety softness, tasting the beer he’d had before I came over.

As he kisses me, he starts to grind his hips against mine, rubbing his bulge over my bulge, bringing me a surge of pleasure that only kicks the passion of our kiss into overdrive. I wrap both my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, locking myself onto him and not letting go — I can’t let him go.

But then he grabs my hands from around his neck and forces them down to the bed above my head. I whimper, desperate to have my limbs locked around him again, but then he presses into me — hard. My wrists are pinned to the bed and he puts more of his weight on me, bringing us even closer together. As our bodies rub together, I can feel everything through our clothing — his cock, his balls, and his hard nipples. And every brush of friction brings a new electric tingle of pleasure to my body… pleasure I had never experienced before.

This is all new to me. Until now, a fuck has been a fuck, a blowjob has been a blowjob. Passion had always just complicated things, slowed down the action. But now… now passion is adding to it. This older man is doing something to me that I didn’t know was possible.

Electricity seems to surge between our bodies, his breath becomes my breath, my breath becomes his breath. Sex seems to flow from him to me and back to him. He grinds his bulge against mine and every brush just makes me that much harder. Every nibble of his teeth on my lips makes me tremble just a little more. And every passionate moment sends me to new heights of pleasure.

I can feel my orgasm rising in me, coming at me like a freight train, and there’s nothing i can do to stop it — not that I would ever want to stop it. He kisses me again, hard and deep, shoving his tongue into my mouth. His hard nipples abrade mine through the cotton of both our shirts.  And the forceful shove of his bulge against mine is all that’s needed to make stars explode behind my eyes, to make my whole body tremble and shake, to make me fill my pants with my jizz, to have me wordless and boneless, panting and gasping, recovering from the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had.

When breath and the strength to form words seeps back into me, I look up at him and into his deep blue eyes.

“Wow,” I say. It’s all I can say. It’s all my brain is capable of saying.

“I like kissing,” he says. “It makes things better… more intense.”

Before I can say anything else, he dives down, bringing those hot lips to my neck, giving me new pleasure, pinning me to the bed and taking over, teaching me what sex is really about…



Cameron D. James is a writer of gay erotica and M/M erotic romance; his latest release is The President And The Rentboy. He is publisher at and co-founder of Deep Desires Press and a member of the Indie Erotica Collective. He lives in Canada, is always crushing on Starbucks baristas, and has two rescue cats. To learn more about Cameron, visit http://www.camerondjames.com.

3 comments:

  1. Nice tidbit, Cameron. Great build!

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  2. Lisabet's post made me think of the MILF sub-genre of erotica (and how it's unlikely to apply to family situations) and made me wonder whether there's a FILF subgenre, too, which was really foolish of me--I'd forgotten all about the wide appeal of Daddy figures.

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  3. Oh, wow! Of course this is something the older generation can teach the younger! Fantastic, deeply erotic piece in addition to be right on the theme. Thank you!

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