Wednesday, August 31, 2016

BDSM Writers Con New York...What an Amazing Experience!

BDSM con New York concluded a little over a week ago, and after a two day bus ride that culminated in me reporting to work the very afternoon I got back (somedays it doesn’t even pay to be a freelancer), and some time to get caught up on everything I was already behind on (so much for sticky notes and to-do lists) I finally had the opportunity to sit down and share my thoughts about the experience.

First let me say, it was New York, a whole different world from Everett, Washington where the conference was held in the spring. Arriving near dawn on the Greyhound I was treated to the view of the city still all lit up like I hadn’t seen for twenty years. Going through Philadelphia earlier in the night was a similar experience, glazing out the windows, marveling at the sheer size of the buildings, the rapidly moving traffic, and the volume of people quickly served as a reminder that I wasn’t in Iowa anymore. At least I didn’t need a tornado to whisk me halfway across the country, though I have to admit, my head was spinning for those first few minutes after I stepped off the bus.

Retrieving my bag and finding the ladies room gave me a chance to get over the initial panic of being in such a crowded, loud, overly stimulating space. Of course that just meant it was time to find my way to the subway platform that would take me out to Terry’s place. So many thanks have to go out at this moment to Terry for giving me a place to stay during the con, amazing conversation, introducing me to Halal Food, showing me Time’s Square, Jr’s Cheesecake and a host of other awesome sights. She also provided spot on subway instruction that had me feeling confident getting around even when she wasn’t with me, which allowed me a very unique New York experience indeed. In fact, the science-fiction short story I’m currently working on for the Into the Infinite anthology was born on the subway playform during a conversation we were having about the fact that the deadline was September 9th and my brain had sort of shut down. I hadn’t even started at that point, since I couldn’t figure out what in the world my plot was going to be. Then rattle clack clack, there it was in the sound of the subway as it was approaching. I wish I’d had more time to spent in the city, I could have spent afternoons riding around on the subway taking notes and generating ideas.

But I digress. I do that a lot. Sorry. I might have to blog on New York separately, it certainly deserves its own entry, it was amazing, full of so many places I’d love to see and explore, like the village and central park.

BDSM writers con kicked off much the same way as it did in Everett, with an author buddy meeting that allowed the authors attending to gather together with Dr. Charley, introduce ourselves to each other, talk about what we write and why we’d chosen to come to the conference, and most importantly, it is the start of lasting friendships and connections. While there is a diversity of author experience levels in the room, that common thread that we all came to the con because we love reading and writing the kinky stuff sets a good platform to talk shop. Over the course of the week, I would find myself meeting publishers, setting my sights on writing three more anthology stories, fleshing out ideas in my head and mentally cleaning up one of my books not quite in edit yet, and all because of this one jumping off point.

It’s hard to be shy and quiet in a room full of interesting people who are helping to provide a safe space to be oneself. Conversation starts flowing, and it’s mercifully easy to get dragged in and pulled along, or jump in with both feet depending on the topic and the opportunity to interact only grows when the Author meeting moved to the Tex-Mex restaurant next door and readers began to join us.  Learning begins in these conversations, honestly, if you’ve never heard the story Dr. Charley tells about Domming in slippers, well, then you haven’t had the chance to learn why comfort is one of the key necessities in a scene. Some of the tableside reenactments of events are enough to get the creative juices flowing, and as an added bonus, the food was positively amazing. While the official kickoff of the Con actually comes at opening ceremony the following day, this unofficial event the night before has already become one of my favorite times for interaction. I can’t wait for Everett’s in spring, we held that get together at the Blue Water Distillery, and wow, those Spank Me drinks they made were AWESOME!

Moving on to opening ceremony, I must stress that its far more than just talking about what one can expect in the days to come, it is a chance to learn about the origins of the con and why Dr. Charley has worked so tirelessly to put on the convention year after year and even expand it to include a west coast one. After the ceremony, there is a break for lunch and then the classroom learning begins. Let me tell you, if school had been like this when I was growing up, I might not have snuck novels inside my textbooks for something to read when the lectures got boring.

One thing I love about the program schedule is that things start out pretty light. One of the first classes I attended discussed the use of the senses and sensations in describing BDSM scenes within a story. The presenters, Chris Anson and Lise Horton were amazingly knowledgeable and engaging and really focused on the importance of all of the senses being represented within a story as well as the importance of making up for any senses that were restricted (for example through the wearing of a blindfold) by being sure to feature what the character is feeling or hearing more prominently, and how the restriction of a sense can even heighten the sensations experienced by the other senses. Sound, for example, can be used to ratchet up anticipation levels and tension, scents can be used to spark memory and association, it gave me so much more to think about when writing my characters , not just in my D/s stories but in all of my work.

Attending Dr. Charley’s Do’s and Don’t of writing BDSM workshop left me with a ton of notes, and listening to her talk actually had me making comments in my notebook on specific places in one of my stories where I needed to go back and make adjustments. There’s so much to consider when writing a story, so much fact to separate from the fiction and that’s one of the things the conference does well. For those of us who are only dipping toes into the lifestyle or who have very little opportunities to participate, indulge, or even study the way a scene unfolds, her knowledge and the knowledge of all of the presenters is more valuable than gold.

Each workshop is designed to not only inform, but to allow time for questions, comments, demonstration, exploration, discussion, and the dispelling of myths. At the Exploratorium there was a flogging display, a chance to purchase different styles of floggers, try them out, feel their weight. There was an amazing demonstration of the violet wand, discussion on how it works, a chance for those who were willing, to experience it. The publisher’s panel was highly informative, with plenty of opportunities to speak to the publishers to see what they looked for when selecting which books to publish, and what anthologies they have coming p It was also very helpful to learn what they see too much of, or what makes them put a book down if they are reading it. Having a chance to speak with them one on one after the panel was extremely informative as well and allowed me to get clarification on the anthologies I plan to submit to.

BDSM Con New York was also the sight of a very special first for me, as I had signed up as a featured author and had a table there. Just seeing my debut novel and promotional items on display for the first time was a little scary but amazing too, and to sign my first book, there are no words to describe that moment. (Thank you so much Jillian Verne  for being the first to give me that opportunity).

If you are a reader or a writer of kinky fiction, then this is the con for you. From Interrogation workshops to sensual shibari rope tying, Doming on a dime to recognizing signs of stress for a Dom, there is a workshop for everyone. I’ve registered for Everett 2017, hope to see both old faces and new.  

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Rainbow Snippet Aug 27

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE

This weeks Snippet is from Gypsy Rogue, a story i've been dabbling with in my spare time. Not sure where it's going or how long it will be yet. A little longer than 6 lines, for that I apologize. I'm still trying to decide where I'm going with this. 

Oh god, oh god it couldn’t be, Gypsy thought to himself, straining to see the man’s face, but the rain was blocking out his features. Gypsy felt himself began to panic, to hyperventilate, as if the tears hadn’t been enough. He wished a sinkhole would swallow him up even while he was grateful that the rain had washed away his tears. Gypsy was only vaguely aware of the man going to one knee beside him, reaching out. He tried to recoil, but was too exhausted, cold and soaked, his emotions frayed.

“Hey now Gypsy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The man’s voice, what a relief it brought, it wasn’t his ex, thank God it wasn’t his ex, he wanted to weep all over again for the mercy of that small act. His breathing eased, and slowly, slowly he could unclench his fists from the grass. The man didn’t attempt to touch him again, just heaved a sigh and flopped down onto his back beside Gypsy, shoving his rain soaked hair out of his eyes.

“Shower broken?” he quipped.

“No.” Gypsy didn’t look at the man, couldn’t. He was betting there would be pity in the man's eyes, that, or he’d be eyeing him up like he was measuring Gypsy for a padded room.

“So this is for fun then?” the man wiggled a little, getting comfortable, settling in like he planned to be there for a while. 

Gypsy groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. What the fuck was his ex's estranged little brother doing way the fuck out here, and if Damon had found him, how long would be it before Killian did too?

Friday, August 26, 2016

Blog Tour - Priest and Pariahs Excerpt + Review

Blog Tour – Priest and Pariahs by Mann Ramblings
Title: Priest and Pariahs
Author: Mann Ramblings
Series: Ship Logs of the Santa Claus, Book Three
Genre: Gay Romance, Science Fiction
Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

Synopsis – Priest and Pariahs
Ship Logs of the Santa Claus, Book Three
Costa McQuillen is a Pariah, a para-human with tech empathic abilities who has escaped from Earth, where being para-human is illegal—and marks him for extermination. Arrogant and standoffish, Costa is unable to trust anyone, but is willing to risk everyone's safety to reach the planet Omoikane. His best solution: gaining passage on board the Santa Claus.
Arbor Kittering, the crew's newest coding tech, is a medical oddity. With the technologies available to prevent birth defects, Arbor's status as a dwarf brings the kind of attention he could happily do without. Having spent a short time in prison for data hacking and falsifying government files doesn't help. The Santa Claus is his last chance at a new start, if he can decipher the strange malfunctions plaguing the ship.
Priest, the Santa Claus’ Head Pilot, is a bit of a scoundrel. Perpetually single, Priest is attracted to Costa for his exotic looks, and to Arbor for his unique qualities. In truth, he'd like to have both, but it's clear such a thing isn't in the cards. Now Priest needs to make a choice, before it's too late.
BLOWING OUT THROUGH his pursed lips, Arbor Kittering scrubbed his small hands on his pant legs. His palms refused to stay dry; he was so nervous. This job interview was too important. No other employer had been willing to return his application requests and his currency was dwindling. Despite his exceptional tech-coding skills, the mistakes he’d made in the recent past had smeared his reputation. All he needed was a fresh opportunity to undo the damage.

Reaching into his shoulder bag—that always appeared too large for his size—he pulled out a small metal rectangle. With a flick of his wrist, it snapped out, expanding into a small step stool. Climbing on top of it in the middle of the men’s restroom gave him a better vantage point in the mirror. If he stretched out to the tips of his toes, his chin would barely reach the standard counter height, and he had no intention of doing anything of the sort. He had some small amount of pride left.

Such was the life of a dwarf in a universe full of normals.

Arbor was accustomed to the odd stares of folks trying not to be obvious. Some were fine, but others treated his condition as something communicable. As if achondroplasia was catching. If it were, he would run rampant through crowds in public transports, touching everyone he could reach, in a millisecond.

He was fortunate not to be more disfigured. A disheveled thatch of mud-brown hair helped reduce the appearance of his pronounced forehead. Thankfully, his head was not grotesquely large. His limbs were short in proportion to his torso, but the possible spinal curvature was minimal. Growing up, his research brought him medical images of conditions beyond his ability to stomach. 

It made him thank whatever gods he didn’t believe in.

Occasionally, he would meet a person who was fascinated by his unnatural stature. It was often exhausting, but he couldn’t blame their morbid curiosity at times. How could you not gawk at something so abnormal, which barely existed beyond obscure medical histories in the last few centuries? From his Subspace Link research, only four cases of dwarfism were catalogued in the last fifty years. It wasn’t surprising. Medical technologies were more than capable of detecting and correcting the birth defect well before a child was born.

After checking the time on his handheld pad, he smoothed down his clothing with his stubby fingers as best he could, trying not to grimace at the juvenile style. With his funds so low, he was forced to shop at secondhand stores in the husky children’s departments. There was no currency to spare for custom-altered garments anymore. The fact did nothing to reinforce his self-confidence.

Damn, he really needed this job.

Hopping down, Arbor collapsed and collected his step stool, stowing it in his bag. He shook himself to bolster his courage before heading for the door.


So many twists and turns, and the character growth shown by Priest over the course of the book was phenomenal. When you step into Mann’s universe, you know you’re in for some steamy thrills, but the thing that always keeps me hooked and eager to come back for more, is the depth to each story and the layers to each of the characters. Priest and Pariah is the third story set on the Santa Claus, and one of the biggest treats of each story is having a chance to see where characters like Erron and Danverse are and what is going on with them.

Priest really caught my attention in A Cook’s Tale, so it was with great joy that I sat down to read Priest and Pariah. There’s just something about Priest that’s endearing even when he’s cheating at cards, putting his foot in his mouth, overstepping boundaries, and getting into shit. I wanted to see him find happiness, experience self-discovery, open himself up to a relationship and not just a one night stand and generally express feelings rather than being a little overbearing and lecherous and Mann certainly did not disappoint.

In both Arbor and Costa Priest finds something that attracts and hold his attention, makes him think about why he does the things he does, makes him want to try to do better. They peel back the shell of Priest to reveal the man underneath, instincts and emotions typically kept hidden, that allow the reader to understand what kind of man he truly is. His interactions with them are one part slow burn and one part sizzling heat, with an amazing mix of storyline to pull it all together.

The only question I was left with was what’s next for the Santa Claus and her crew. This was a five star read for me.

Buy Links
Don’t miss the discounted release prices on all retailer sites!
Book Trailer

Start with Books One and Two of Ship Logs of the Santa Claus!

 The Luxorian Fugitive

Sergeant Liam Jacks is the security chief of transport vessel, The Santa Claus. He travels the planetary cluster with Marc Danverse, his best friend and captain, seeking to escape his tortured past and find some peace of mind.

Having been through a civil war together, Danverse and Liam are close. Maybe too close....

All that changes when mysterious stranger, Hadrian Jamison, an escaped Adonirati, books passage to Alpha Centauri. Can he be trusted? Can the stories of his past be believed?

As Liam’s fascination with Hadrian grows, jealousy threatens to tear apart his friendship with Danverse.

When Hadrian’s owner shows up, Liam is forced to go against orders in order to launch a rescue mission to save him.

The ensuing conflict may be more than any of them expected.

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A Cook’s Tale

The trials and tribulations of the crew and passengers of interplanetary transport vessel, The Santa Claus continues in A Cook’s Tale.
After a horrific breakup, Erron Murfin is bitter, homeless, and friendless. When the cook’s position on the Santa Claus presents itself, Erron decides to escape his current circumstances and join the crew. On board he reconnects with family friend Gamin Wells, whose own secrets and issues begin to surface upon Erron’s arrival. The least of which is the reason the pair haven’t laid eyes on one another in over twelve years.

As Erron settles into his new duties, the men on board take an interest in their newest crew member. Among those intrigued by Erron are polyamorous couple, Barrus and James. Despite Erron’s cautious nature, he’s drawn into a triad relationship with the pair.

But there’s something about Gamin…

Is Erron too damaged to confront his own feelings?

Will his past prevent him from finding what he needs?

Buy Links

About the Author
Like many gay men, when Mann Ramblings grew up, there weren’t any heroes he could relate to. The world held him back while he tried futilely to hide the real person inside. So much has changed since those hollow days. He finally found his voice, the voice that says it’s all right to revel in the so-called inappropriate joys, laughs, and loves that storm inside a man’s head. It took a long time to find that courage and now that it’s here, he plans to use it well.

While spending years more focused on visual arts, he never let go of his innate passion for storytelling—he wanted to write and draw comic books when he grew up. Once he discovered M/M fiction, a whole new world opened with new possibilities. Why couldn’t you have fantastic and dynamic tales with an M/M cast? 

He started reading the online tales of authors like, Night Tempest, Rob Colton, and Alicia Nordwell, which only fueled within him the need to create. Eventually he found, and with a little coercive nudge from Night Tempest, started sharing his tales with an unexpected level of positive response. That experience and support gave him the courage to cross his fingers and aim for the world of M/M publishing.

Born and raised in Michigan, Mann Ramblings continues to type away, wishing it was practical to use a noisy, old fashioned keyboard that clacks with each strike, if only to annoy his loving partner and spoiled miniature dachshund.


Twitter: @mannramblings

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Cover Reveal: Wayward Ink's Age is Just a Number Anthology


There’s something to be said for life experience, a little gray at the temple…
And then there is the appeal of youth.
When it comes to what the heart wants, Age Is Just A Number.

Stories Included

Eric Gober
An alien encounter…
An unfortunate misstep…
A lightning fast journey through space…
The laws of physics are about to wreak havoc on Walt and Michael’s May-December love.
Layla Dorine
When James spotted Rogue, a young man for whom wandering is like breathing, half-dozing on the hood of his car, he never expected that warning him about the dangers of sleeping out in the open would lead to a weekly visitor at his door.
Lily Velden
Upon the death of his grandfather, up and coming Fantasy author, Thomas, returns home.
A place he left four years earlier to get over his unrequited love for Sam Fletcher, his older, straight, and very much married neighbor.
Thomas soon discovers, however, that things are much changed with Sam…
Dale Cameron Lowry
Baking is a way of life for Joey, a young pastry chef vying for first place in the popular reality show American Master Bakers.
But the judges have been showing favoritism to Terence, an aggravatingly attractive older man with more experience under his belt.
When the competition gets hot, so do the two men. Can a relationship that started in hatred end in love?
Eddy LeFey
A young Omega shifter meets a much older Alpha.
Will Elliot let Issac help him be who he is too afraid to be?
Asta Idonea
Necessity has forced former soldier Captain Keen to assume the occupation of gentleman highwayman. His fortunes take a turn, however, the night he stops the Marquis de Beaumont’s coach and gets more than he bargained for when he utters the words “Stand and deliver!”
Louise Lyons
The loss of his best friend leads Phil to find love.
Kassandra Lea
There’s only one thing Kit Conley likes more than horses and that’s Roman Meadery.
But will the elite rider ever notice him?
Carol Pedroso
Gus is under the thumb of a controlling father. Can meeting his mate give him a reason to make a break for freedom?
Nelson is twice Gus’ age, and very protective of what is his.
What will happen when Gus’ father tries to split them up? And what surprises does Nelson have up his sleeve?
Aimee Brissay
A few seconds, that’s all it takes to make a difference between life and death.
Between killing someone and stopping on time.
But is it enough to turn yourself around when you’ve hit bottom?
Or to make you recognize something good when you have it?

Pre-order Links

Don’t miss the discounted pre-order prices on publishers’ and all major retailer sites!
Amazon US:
Amazon UK:
Amazon AU:
Amazon DE:

Book Trailer

Monday, August 8, 2016

Blog Tour Stop: Dawn to Dusk

Title: Dawn to Dusk
Series: Lover’s Journey, Book One
Author: Alina Popescu
Genre: Gay Romance, Contemporary
Length: Novel (over 50000 words)


That first encounter with Robert in rural Romania at eleven. A summer spent together in the same setting a year later. Their first text exchange in high school. The first sexual experience. The first heartbreak—the second and third and fourth chance. The point of total breakdown and the despair of failing. More love than anyone could have warned him about.

No matter how much time passes, no matter how different their paths, every meeting brings Edi and Robert closer together. Those stolen moments shine brighter than any. Yet loving Robert is not easy, not when Edi wants to be true to himself and is met with dishonesty. Or when Robert keeps parading new conquests and ignores Edi more often than not.

Edi has always loved Robert, but he must decide if his journey leads to or away from his childhood friend. Is it true love or is Edi just unable to let go?


“What’s that?” Robert asked, pointing to an open door on the side of the former Cultural Center of the village. It was a non-descript door on a decrepit building that used to be the village cinema, the place where everything that could pass as a show happened, where celebrations took place, and where the occasional meetings were organized. When I was much younger, four or five, I’d come here with my aunt. The only movies they’d show were Indian ones, but it was a movie, not an hour of botched up news followed by communist propaganda, so I went every time.

Right now, the Cultural Center was rented out for the occasional wedding. They’d also started to host a poetry contest, as, long before World War II and the Communists, the local boyar had had a poet son who’d given the name to the village. He’d died young, so there wasn’t much of his poetry left, but because one of the country’s most famous poets had called him the “Silver Lyre,” everyone knew him. The other awe-inspiring wonder the Cultural Center was home to was the village library. Small, crowded, smelling of old, dusty books, you could easily overlook it. Most kids didn’t even know it existed, because it wasn’t really advertised during the summer.

“Library. It’s not very large,” I explained quickly, not wanting him to be disappointed. A few years back I went there with the same aunt who took me to Indian movies. She’d borrowed a couple of books through her own subscription, so I’d seen the inside of the library. From the outside, it seemed to not have changed much at all.

“Can we get books?” Robert asked, pulling me out of my memory tour.

“Sure, but we need to get a subscription. I think we need ID for it.”

I wasn’t fourteen yet, so I had no ID card. Robert had it, but he’d left it home. We went inside though to find out exactly what we need and then ran home to get the papers and the meager payment the librarian required. I came back with my grandma’s ID and that was it.

Buy Links

Amazon US:
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Amazon AU:


Prizes: 1 x $10 WIP Gift Card, 1 x $5 WIP Gift Card, 1 x ecopy of Br0th3rly (Famous on the Inernet, Book One).
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Guest Post

Rural Romania in Dawn to Dusk

Romanian writers have a thing for exploring rural Romania through the rainbow-colored lens of childhood memories. Poets and children’s authors alike have dabbed into this, creating works of art that inspired countless generations of young readers. They are also responsible for serious cases of melancholy reported by adult readers. Even my all-time favorite Romanian poet, Mihai Eminescu, has a poem about how he roamed the woods as a young boy, sleeping by the creek. I know, if you’ve read Dawn to Dusk, this bit sounds familiar :D

A lot of my childhood memories involve two Romanian villages, about twenty kilometers apart from each other. My maternal grandparents lived in one, and my paternal grandparents lived in the other. I chose the one where I had the most fun as one of the main settings in this novel: Sihlea, Vrancea County. It’s where my maternal grandmother (my only surviving grandparent) still lives.

In the first part of the story, main character Edi spends a lot of time in this village. He does everything I did as a child: climbing trees, playing with kids gathered there from all over the country for summer holidays, playing at the creek, going all the way to the forest and picking up corn to boil or grill on the way back, looking for hidden gems in the village library, and generally not sitting still for too long.

As he grows up, I tried to explore everything I felt: that the village got smaller; that the creek wasn’t the most exciting place in the world; that the village was suddenly filled with bars and people waiting aimlessly for their lives to pass them by.

At one point, they closed down the village library. The remaining books were transferred to the local school, making them available to students only. That was a big hit for me, and I tried to explore it through Edi. After that summer, I had Edi spend less and less time in the countryside. The truth is the village would be extremely boring after the age of sixteen. As kids grew up, camps, trips to the seaside, staying home and hanging out with friends became more enticing.

As you read Edi’s adventures, you’ll be able to piece out the history of this little village from before the Communist Regime, through its evil snatching of all lands from peasants, and later through all the changes that followed the Revolution of ’89. You’ll see the village turning from the best place in the world, a paradise of sorts, into a small, dusty old place where the character rarely wants to go.

Unfortunately, this was the fate of a lot of Romanian villages. We won’t count the highly touristy ones here, or those close to larger cities or the mountains where vacation homes were built. The average village, even those like Sihlea, where an important piece of Romanian literature history came from, where a poetry contest was held every year, lost their shine.

In the end, it’s a bittersweet ride down memory lane. But I do feel extremely fortunate to have experienced the freedom and fun of spending my summers in such a place. What about you? Where did you spend your summers as a kid? And which are your fondest memories? I’d love to hear all about them :D

About the author

Writer, traveler, and coffee addict, Alina Popescu has been in love with books all her life. She started writing when she was ten and she has always been drawn to sci-fi, fantasy, and the supernatural realm. Born and raised in Romania, she finds her inspiration in books of all genres, in movies, and the occasional manga comic book. She is a proud geek who needs her fast Internet and gadgets more than she needs air.

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Monday, August 1, 2016

Bonus Content to Newsletter

So, being uncertain as to if the following content would get me in trouble being sent as part of my newsletter through Wix, I decided to post the truly steamy excerpt here. From Racing the Sky, currently in edits:

Here is an exclusive sneak peek at the newest and final scene to be added to the story. It’s certainly a steamy one.

“Someone’s got their mind in the gutter tonight, don’t they?” Gray teased.
“It’s your fault.”
“Is it, well, then I guess I will have to sit over here and behave and not tell you how bad I wish you were here right now. I would pull you down to straddle me in this chair and let you ride me until you were begging me to fuck you through the bed.”
“God, that’s not fair,” Nicky moaned.
“You should touch yourself for me, Nicky, let me hear you get yourself off.”
Nicky whined low, his hand moving before his brain could think, all he wanted was to loosen the tightly constricting fabric of his jeans and find some friction. He heard Gray moan into the phone and wondered what he was doing, tried to picture the older man getting off in his chair.
“Are you touching that gorgeous cock of yours, Nicky? Are you stroking it wishing I was stroking you, sucking you?”
“Yesssssss,” Nicky breathed out, stroking himself a little faster and wishing it was Gray’s hand, Gray’s body pinning him down, sliding into him.
“Good, that’s so good Nicky,” Gray praised. “I love that you’re so vocal, all those little sounds of yours just make my cock harder.”
“Are you stroking yourself too?”
“You better believe I am,” Gray groaned, and the sound of it made Nicky shiver.
“You don’t know how much I wish you were here right now,” Gray continued. “I’d bend you over the table and mark you up good.”
“Mark me?” Nicky moaned, stroking his dick a little faster. “How?”
“With my teeth,” Gray growled. “And my tongue. And my handprints on your ass while you squirmed for me. Do you think you’d like that Nicky?”
“Fuuuuuuck yeah.”
Gray chuckled, his voice sounding wrecked through the phone and Nicky felt a surge of pride, knowing he’s been the one to cause it.
“I think I’d enjoy seeing you spread out across my table, you’re tight hole just begging to be fucked,” Gray said.
That only served to excite Nicky more and he mewed into the phone, moaning “I want to blow you.”
“Christ, Nicky, having you on your knees with my cock in your mouth and my hands buried in your hair would be the end of me.”
“Good, I wanna make you feel good,” Nicky replied eagerly.

Gray chuckled, and Nicky found himself groaning at the sound. “And I wanna make you scream,”