Best of Best Gay Erotica 2 by Richard Labonte

Author:Richard Labonte [RICHARD LABONTÉ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2012-03-20T00:00:00+00:00

Losing It

John Orcutt

I’m lying on my stomach on the bed with a pillow tucked under my chin. He’s slowly parting my asscheeks and very slowly, very gently lapping at my tight hole. I moan just a little bit. “You like that?” he asks. I nod vigorously and he licks one of his fingers and presses it against the opening until I give way. He slowly fucks me with the one finger and then he spits on a second and pushes them both against my ass. “A good lover will take his time to make you feel comfortable, work up to it,” he instructs. “How does this make you feel?” Just like a therapist. Okay, yeah, I’m in bed with my therapist. It’s a long story.

Considering how amazingly rounded my heels are from circling the block for the better part of two decades, I am still what is commonly referred to as vanilla. I try not to couple with anyone who requires paraphernalia or special outfits in order to have sex. I have never understood the lure of leather and am still waiting for the gay community to eroticize cotton. Like most people I have very specific things I like to do, and don’t like to do, sexually. I don’t like to go home with people. Quick and uncomplicated has been a formula that’s worked for me for years. “Do ’em where you find ’em” is my motto. I also hate talkers. Chatter during sex should only consist of directions, updates, and forecasts. I am not your boy and, at a boyish thirty-five, I am certainly not your Daddy. Say “daddy” in any context and images of my father mowing the lawn appear instantly, dooming any mood approaching horny. Preferences? I had a tonsillectomy as an adult, which I like to think of as the only gay cosmetic surgery I’ll ever need.

Despite these limitations, I do get plenty of action. I’m a standard five foot eleven inches, I have jet black hair and the kind of ice-blue eyes one generally finds on Alaskan huskies pulling sleds. I don’t have a gym body but swim and practice yoga on a regular basis. I guess I’m just not that good at fantasy play and role-playing and verbalizing. How many times have I been perfectly happy down on my knees sucking off some hottie when he insists, “You want that dick, doncha,” pulling it out of my mouth and slapping me across the face with it and actually expecting an answer to his ill-timed and highly rhetorical query? “Yes, I want it. That’s why I just sat in a smoky, dark bar through four beers, half a pack of cigarettes, and your boring life story, so that I could wrap my lips around your big fatty despite the fact that I’m going to have to walk home at sunrise while it’s raining out. However, now that you’re caning me with it I’m a little less enthusiastic.”

Despite years of frequenting video booths, parks, sex clubs,

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