Sword Play

Quinton absently slid his fingers along the handle of the katana. “This is a cool sword,” he said.

“Thanks,” Eli replied as he continued adjusting the settings of his camera.

“Just curious, what made you think of this kind of shoot?”

Eli continued with his task, hoping his model didn’t see him blushing. “Uh, just something I came across online,” he said sheepishly. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, by the way. I know it’s not your usual kind of gig.”

Quinton smiled. “No problem. I actually like that it’s not one of my normal kind of shoots. I get to do something different for once, instead of always modeling underwear in somebody’s pool.”

They both chuckled.

“Well, you will have to take your shirt off for this. But, no underwear or water, promise.”

Quinton laughed. “Sounds good.”

“Well, let’s get started,” Eli said brightly.

Quinton removed his shirt as Eli got into position, casually calling out the poses he had in mind. Quinton removed the katana from its sheath and began to pose. Eli moved his frame, getting into various positions to achieve the shots he wanted. He liked that Quinton took direction well and seemed to excel at whatever look he was going for. The pictures were coming out even better than Eli had hoped.

Without instruction, Quinton unbuckled his pants and let them fall, crumpling around his ankles. He let the katana blade rest on his shoulder. Eli eagerly began snapping photos. It was a ‘money shot,’ in his opinion, and he was determined to capture it from all angles.

He couldn’t help, however, noticing the definition in Quinton’s legs. The slightness of a few abs poking out. The bulk of his biceps. The way his boxer briefs seemed to be painted on. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get through a photoshoot without ogling the man before him. Perhaps ogling isn’t the correct word. Appreciating. Yes, he was just appreciating Quinton. As he had for several months on Instagram.

It was a long shot when he DM’ed Quinton after seeing that he was in the area. ‘It’s just a photoshoot,’ he thought to himself as he pressed send on his message. Then he quickly locked his phone and dropped it on his bed. He was nervous. Nervous about not receiving a reply. And even more so about getting one. He wringed his hands, willing himself not to unlock the phone and stare at the DM screen until he saw an answer, or at least that his message had been read. He decided to busy himself with household chores. An hour later, he returned to his phone. He had a notification. He went to the message thread and saw a positive response. His heart leapt. Not because a man whom he had lusted after for months had answered his message. But because he had ‘shot his shot’ professionally and it was successful. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

“Good move,” Eli said appreciatively. Hopefully not too much so.

“Thanks,” Quinton said through a smile. Instinctively, he turned so that his back was facing Eli.

Eli swallowed the lump that had materialized in his throat. Quinton was filling out his boxer briefs in a way that spoke to Eli in a viscerally. He looked through the lens of the camera, mentally memorizing the sight before him. While it was true that he had seen Quinton in similar positions many times on Instagram, it was different seeing it in person. He felt a heaviness begin to materialize in his pants. He tried to think of something to quell the fire beginning to rage inside. 

His efforts, however, were futile. Quinton had gotten down on his knees with the katana still resting on his shoulder. Eli couldn’t help but trace the curve of Quinton’s body as he posed in a way he knew was showing off one of his assets. Eli fumbled with the camera, nearly dropping it. 

“I-I think I have what I n-need,” Eli stuttered.

“Oh, word?” Quinton was a little surprised. He’d never done a photoshoot that only lasted 45 minutes before. He put the sword down next to him before getting on all fours and arching his back. The stretch felt good. He was also fully aware of how he looked in this position.

Eli felt like this was a subtle hint. He quickly decided to push forward, rationalizing that he’d already ‘shot his shot,’ so he might as well take full advantage.

“Unless…” Eli began.

“Unless?” Quinton quizzed.

“Unless you w-wouldn’t mind, posing nude?”

Quinton stood to his feet. “With the sword though, right?”

“Oh, of course!” Eli said quickly, feeling as though he had misread the situation.

“Gotta be honest, I’ve never posed nude before. Not for real, for real. But, I’m kinda curious to see what it would look like.”

There was a look in Quinton’s eyes that Eli couldn’t quite decipher. “Well, let’s see,” he said.

Quinton nodded. He removed his shoes and pants from around his ankles before picking up the katana again. He felt slightly unsure of himself, not knowing how to pose with a sword while naked.

Eli picked up the slack. “Let go for some action shots,” he offered.

Quinton ran through a number of battle poses, drawing inspiration from movies he had seen and video games he had played in the past. Eli continued taking photos, hoping the growing bulge in his pants wasn’t noticeable. Quinton turned so that his backside could be captured and Eli’s bulge turned into a full erection. But he didn’t stop his work. He was in the zone. They both were.

The hot lights beaming down on him were nothing compared to the heat of Quinton’s loins. Being naked was a huge turn on for him. And when he noticed a little something budding in Eli’s groin area, it excited him even more. He could feel the blood beginning to flow towards his own groin and quickly turned his back to Eli before he saw it through his camera lens.

“Okay, hold the sword in front of you sideways, so the blade comes out to the right,” Eli ordered.

Quinton clumsily tried to position the sword, purposefully doing it incorrectly. “How do you mean?” he asked. “Like this?” He held the sword in one hand, away from his body.

“No, no, like… let me show you.” Eli closed the gap the between the two of them, stopping at Quinton’s side. “Like –“

He stopped after noticing that Quinton was standing at attention. Quinton’s gaze trailed down Eli’s body. He could see movement in the man’s pants.

“Looks like we in the same predicament,” he said huskily. 

“I…uh…y-yea,” Eli stammered. “I guess so.”

A grin pulled at Quinton’s lips. He turned and stood in front of Eli. Slowly, he squatted down until he was eye level with Eli’s belt buckle. He put the katana down next to him before using his hands to free Eli from the confines of his pants and briefs.

It was all Eli could do to continue breathing steadily. Was he actually about to live out a fantasy he had been having for the better part of 3 months? Surely, this only happened in movies.

“This is like a real life Sean Cody scene,” he said.

“Who is Sean Cody?” Quinton asked.

“Never mind,” Eli replied. The two locked eyes. Quinton moved at an agonizingly slow pace. He wanted to make sure Eli was completely ensnared. Unbeknownst to him, Eli wasn’t the only one with an Instagram crush. Quinton had been a fan of the man’s work for a while, but a recent selfie Eli had posted had made Quinton a fan of the man himself.

Eli swallowed again, hard. It was the cue Quinton had been waiting for. Without warning, he stopped his teasing and took Eli fully into his mouth. Eli let out a gasp. Quinton was eager to please, though it had been some time since he had last been in the position he was currently occupying with another man. 

He swirled his tongue around the bulbous head. He played around with the suction until he got another gasp. He licked up and down the shaft. He gave his best effort at deep-throating. He used his hand in conjunction with his mouth. He knew it wouldn’t take too long to push Eli over the edge.

Eli fought hard to maintain some level of control, but he was failing. His excitement and disbelief about what was happening combined with the look in Quinton’s eyes was a difficult mixture to contend with. He let Quinton do all the work. Somehow, he knew that was what the man wanted. He contented himself to let go.

And let go he did. With nothing but a jump from his member, he exploded. But Quinton didn’t stop. He kept going, sucking harder, letting Eli’s seed spill from the sides of his mouth. He couldn’t stop. He was so wrapped up in the situation he didn’t notice that he too had reached climax. The result of which was slowly leaking onto the floor.

Eli’s knees buckled. He had to put a hand on Quinton’s shoulder to stop from falling. This seemed to awaken Quinton from his sexual stupor. The two locked eyes again.

“I’ve never had a photoshoot end like this,” Quinton said with a smirk.

“Me either,” said Eli. “But…who says it has to end right now?”




© 2018 T.J. Clayton




That can’t be him. Can it? All these years later? Nah. But damn, it looks like him. Mario couldn’t help himself. He stared across the sparsely crowded mall food court, drinking in the man currently consuming his every thought. There’s no way that’s Darius.

Mario sat up in the uncomfortable metal chair, trying to afford himself a better view. He studied intently, committing the sight to memory. Darius stood in front of a shop approximately 50 feet away with his back to Mario. Mario’s eyes roamed absently. He still fillin’ out pants more than most females, he thought as his levels of lust began to rise. Darius turned on the spot, slowly, as if he were looking for something in particular. Mario was able to take in Darius’ face again, as well as the rest of his body. He picked up a lil’ weight. But it looks good on him. Lil’ thick ass. Damn I love me a thick dude.

Darius’ dark skin stood out amongst the pale fluorescent lights. The horn-rimmed glasses accented his features well. His face was smooth, with a pronounced nose and full lips. He wore a pale, pink polo shirt with khaki shorts and pink-and-white checkered canvas shoes.

Licking his lips absently, it took a few seconds for Mario to realize he had stood up and was walking toward the man. Usually confident in his appearance, Mario could feel his heart beating rapidly. His anxiousness made him even more nervous. Standing at 6’3” and weighing a solid, muscular 230lbs, Mario couldn’t help feeling like he was 2 feet tall.

I can’t believe he still makes me feel this way. I haven’t seen him in like 10 years! And I’m sittin’ here with butterflies. Mario smiled to himself as he admitted that he liked the feeling. He’d never met anyone that has made such an impression on him.

Mario smiled an even broader smile as he reminisced. 10 years prior, back at Mead University, Darius wouldn’t give him the time of day. No matter what he did or said, Darius never showed even the slightest inclination toward him. I tolerate your presence when necessary, he once said. Mario could never fully understand why Darius was so deadest against him, though he knew his reputation on campus did him no favors in the matter. While he was interested in Darius, he was also a popular athlete that didn’t have to work very hard for much off the football field. With that confidence (or perhaps arrogance), he approached Darius, with disastrous results.

Mario flashbacked to his first encounter with Darius.

“Wassup,” Mario said confidently after approaching Darius. They were at a house party and had both happened to step outside at the same time. Or rather, Darius stepped outside and Mario followed, after having seen him earlier and deciding he wanted him.

Darius looked at Mario with a skeptical frown on his face. “Hi,” he replied dryly.

Mario faltered a bit. He was used to people fawning over him from just a smirk. And here was someone that seemingly already didn’t like him after one word. “Uh, I’m Mario,” he said. Darius merely stared at him. “Uh, what’s ya name?”

Darius’ face moved slightly, as if he was having a conversation with himself about how, or if, he would answer. “Darius,” he finally offered while looking Mario up and down a few times.

Virtually clueless on how to continue the conversation, but desperate to do so, Mario defaulted to standard questions. “What’s yo major?”

Darius was visibly annoyed by the query. “Look, we both know you don’t give a damn about my major. So, what do you want?”

Mario was rocked, but tried his best to hide it. “Damn man. I was just trying to make conversation. Shit.”

“Why?” Darius demanded instantly.


“Because what?” Darius insisted.

Mario looked around, ensuring no one was within earshot, before answering. “Just tryna get to know you.”


Mario thought Darius was offended by his very existence. “Because I… saw you inside and thought you might be cool.” Mario knew it was foolish, but he was grasping for answers under Darius’ intense stare by this point.

“Bullshit,” Darius declared. “If you don’t even know why you’re speaking to me, then you don’t need to be.” With that, he turned to go back towards the front door.

“Okay, wait. Wait.” Mario was put in a precarious position. He decided to lay his cards on the table, so to speak. “Look, I saw you inside and I… I liked what I saw. So, I wanted to holla at you.”

Darius rolled his eyes. “Was that so hard?”

Mario shrugged. “I guess not.” He felt even more foolish.

“Well, Mario, I know who you are. And I know how you do people. So, I’m not interested. Night.” Darius scrambled back through the door before Mario could process what he’d said.

After that, most of their interactions went similarly. Mario found that, by some stroke of what he thought was dumb luck, he and Darius ran in similar circles and saw one another fairly often. But Darius didn’t budge in his position in the slightest. Mario was frustrated. The more Darius rejected him, the more he desirous he became. However, the most Mario ever got was a hug on graduation day before Darius walked out of his life for what he thought would be forever.

Mario jumped back to the present. He saw his quarry walking away from the food court. He made a beeline for the man, determined not to spoil this second chance.

“Hey, Darius!” He called out. Ahead of him, Darius stopped and turned around slowly. He stood nearly still, squinting slightly. Mario jogged lightly to him. “Darius, man, I thought that was you.”

Darius looked at him with a look of pure incredulity. “Um,“ he began.

But Mario cut him off. “Mario. From Mead,” he offered.

Familiarity registered on Darius’ face after a few seconds. “Mario?” Disbelief saturated his voice.

Mario grinned. “Yea man.”

“I-“ Darius’ face scrunched up as he searched for his words. “I didn’t recognize you. You look… bigger.”

Mario gladly took the lead. “Ha! Yea I put on a few pounds I guess. Lil’ bit of fat, lil’ bit of muscle.”

“I- no, yea. It- you look good,” Darius stumbled.

“So do you,” Mario said quickly, trying to hide his lust. “Man, it’s been a long time. It’s crazy running into you. I had no idea you lived here.”

Shakily, Darius replied. “Yea. I just moved here about a month ago for work. And to be closer to some of my friends.”

“Gotcha. Listen,” Mario started boldly, “I know you’re probably busy and everything. But, I was wondering if we could link up. You know, talk, catch up. See what’s been going on for the last ten years.”

Darius stared at him. “Catch up?” He asked.

“Yea, you know. You can tell me what you’ve doing since graduation.” Mario shook his head. Same ol’ Darius.

Darius continued to stare, with a scowl of suspicion clouding his features. “Catch up?” He repeated.

Mario knew what this meant. Having his learned his lesson from previous encounters, he quickly made his intentions clearer. “Yes. Catch up. I just want to talk to you. See how you been. And, hopefully that goes well, and we can see where that leads us.”

Darius’ eyes got big. “Oh. Oh.

Mario nodded. “I’m not gonna act like I’m not still attracted to you. Shit, maybe even more now. Honestly, I never thought I would see you again. And now, here you are. I feel like I’m getting a second chance. I’m not tryna waste it. Ya know?”

Darius seemed taken aback. “I don’t really know what to say,” he admitted.

Mario laughed. “Few years back I would’ve said something like ‘start with your phone number,’ but I’ve changed. How about you tell me when you’re free.”

Darius bit his bottom lip in obvious contemplation. “I’m free now,” he finally said. “I’m really just browsing around for some clothes and things for my apartment.”

Mario beamed knowingly. “How about I join you then?”

Darius returned the smile. “Okay. But keep your hands to yourself. For now, anyway.”


© 2017 T.J. Clayton




Loser's Night, Pt. 2

The two locked eyes once Pierre turned to face Jaye again. Pierre could tell that Jaye was formulating his sexual game plan and was content, for the moment, to stand there and be admired.

Without warning, Jaye sprang into action. He closed the distance between the two of them with a couple of steps and was enveloping Pierre in his arms so smoothly that Pierre couldn’t do anything but allow himself to be taken.

Jaye seemed to hesitate for a split second before letting his lips gently touch Pierre’s. And he got the nerve to have soft lips and can kiss. Pierre wrapped his arms around Jaye’s neck, pulling him closer. They both moaned softly as more and more of their skin began to touch. Pierre reveled in the feeling of Jaye’s strong hands on his backside. It’s been TOO long.

Pierre could feel his inner tiger roaring to get out. The more passion he felt from Jaye, the more his inhibitions decreased. With every swipe of his tongue, every squeeze of flesh, Pierre could feel Jaye letting go of his hang-ups as well. They continued to explore one another’s mouths as their moans became more frequent and desperate.

Impatience finally becoming too much to bear, Pierre broke the lip lock and gently pushed Jaye back with a hand to his well-defined chest. He had a look of slight bewilderment on his face until Pierre lowered himself to his knees. Jaye caught up quickly. “Show your man how you feel about him,” he said in a husky voice. The desire in his words and tone seeped into Pierre’s ears, spurring him on.

Jaye was every bit as well-endowed as his pictures on Jack’d proclaimed. Pierre wanted to spend as much time as he could studying the swollen flesh. He wanted to memorize it with his tongue. He wanted to become intimate with every vein and fold of flesh. But in the interest of instant gratification, he took the head into his mouth, letting it settle on his tongue. The taste danced on his tongue before filling the rest of the warm space. A hungry mph! from Jaye was all the encouragement he needed.

Feeling playful, he took the rest of Jaye into his mouth at an excruciatingly slow pace. The further along he got, the more the girth began to tug at the corners of his mouth. Pierre smirked internally at the challenge. He was determined. He looked up and met Jaye’s sex-polluted eyes. The had a wordless discussion as Jaye gently positioned himself further and further into Pierre’s willing orifice. Unexpectedly, Pierre changed his tactic, applying suction and saliva in a devastating rhythm. Jaye put his hand on top of Pierre’s head and stole the motion and rhythm. Pierre let it happen, opting to concentrate on keeping his throat as relaxed as possible.

The sloppy, wet sounds filled the air. Pierre felt like he was on fire, and he was sure Jaye felt the same. He freed himself from Pierre’s clutches and pulled him to his feet. “Let your man taste you,” he said. Pierre didn’t need to be told twice. He eagerly positioned himself on his bed on all fours. Jaye was on him within seconds, nibbling, licking, sucking, devouring. Pierre was breathless from the onslaught. AND HE’S GOOD WITH HIS TONGUE.

He enjoyed the tongue lashing for a while before his impatience made a cameo appearance. Without pretense, he threw his head back dramatically and said, “Make this ass yours!” How very pornstar of you, he thought to himself. But he couldn’t help himself. He felt like a pornstar. He felt like every cell in his body had abandoned its normal function and joined in on the act. Every nerve was tuned into Jaye, craving his every touch.

Jaye chuckled. “Just like that, baby? You just can’t wait for this hammer, huh?”

“No,” Pierre replied, still breathless. “I want it now.”

Jaye chuckled again. “The things I do for my babe.”

After this, very little was said. The silence of the room was assaulted by the sounds of a condom wrapper being opened. Knowingly, Brian had left lube out on the nightstand. Jaye used the pump and spread the lubricant all over Pierre’s ass. Slowly, almost lovingly, he invaded Pierre with his fingers. Pierre’s breath got caught in his chest with every backward stroke of the fingers. Jaye didn’t miss a beat, sliding his length into Pierre at the precise second he removed his fingers.

Pierre threw his head down onto his bed as the head of Pierre’s monstrosity pressed at his entrance. Slowly it passed through the muscle ring. Pierre couldn’t help arching his back, desperate to find some type of movement that would alleviate the pain he was experiencing coupled with growing pleasure. He found himself squirming once Jaye was halfway in. He ‘bout to fuck the shit out of me, he thought. Good.

Jaye opted for a slow stroke as Pierre opened for him. He wanted to be more sensual than he was used to being. It had heightened the experience thus far and he enjoyed Pierre’s reactions to it. He caressed his back and ears as he increased his pace. While the sensuality wasn’t lost on Pierre, he was drowning in pure adrenaline garnished lust. It had been so long since he’d had someone of Jaye’s size that he’d forgotten about the agonizing joy of the tap dance between pleasure and pain as he was penetrated.

The softness of the strokes was soon replaced by shattering force. Playtime was over. Jaye pressed his hand into the small of Pierre’s back, causing him to spread his legs, effectively lowering him. This new angle started both men on a path of no return. Jaye grunted, sweat forming all over his body. He dug his fingers into the crease caused by Pierre’s bent legs, using the leverage to crash even harder into the man. The sound of their skin colliding was indecent. Pierre’s internal conversations had ceased and had been replaced by a steady succession of grunts and expletives. He wasn’t sure what the sensation burning inside of him was or where it had come from, but he enjoyed it. He craved it. To what end? He wasn’t sure, although he hoped it would be a sticky one.

Jaye, feeling his own climax nearly ready to make an appearance, pushed Pierre down onto his stomach. He mounted him quickly, lying flat on him chest-to-back. He wrapped his arms around Pierre’s shoulders and jackhammered into him relentlessly. Pierre spasmed. The combination of Jaye’s weight on him and his prostate being stimulated ceaselessly was too much. He let the explosion that had building within him go just as he felt Jaye bite down on his neck, effectively punctuating his orgasm. He moaned Jaye’s name as Jaye gave a guttural grunt, followed by a long moan as he spilled inside of the condom.

Slowly, their highs subsided. Jaye pulled out of Pierre before rolling over onto his back next to him. Pierre stayed still except to turn his head so they could look at each other. A grin tugged slightly at both of their lips.

“So, if I was your man, what would happen now?” Jaye asked.

“Exactly what’s happening right now,” Pierre replied.

Jaye snickered. “And what would happen later?”

“If you were my man,” Pierre began with a sigh, “then it’d be an encore performance. But since you’re not-” his voice trailed off as he shrugged faintly.

“But, what was that you said? While we’re together, I act like you’re the only one? So, then, technically, that would make me your man for the night, wouldn’t it?”

Pierre giggled lazily. “Clever. But if you were really my man for the night, you’d be kissing me right now.”

Jaye smiled widely and complied within seconds.


INCOMING TEXT FROM BRIAN: bitch how was it???




© 2017 T.J. Clayton


Loser's Night, Pt. 1

“This is stupid,” Pierre said irritably.

“You’re just mad that you lost,” Brian retorted. He grinned as he scrolled through Jack’d on his friend’s phone. “But don’t worry, buddy. I’m gonna hook you up.”

Pierre rolled his eyes. “With a troll, probably.”

“I’m your best friend, I wouldn’t do that. Even though you lost another bet. Besides, you need this.”

The bet, Pierre thought. It was foolish. He knew it. But he was agreeing to it before he realized what he was saying. His competitive nature refused to let him back down from a challenge. So, when his best friend, Brian, suggested that they bet on what would happen next on ‘Scandal,’ Pierre was quickly in agreeance. It wasn’t until after he had already lost that he realized he realistically had no chance of winning. I knew I should have said Papa Pope.’

The terms of the bet were simple. If Brian lost, then he had to do all of Pierre’s laundry for a month. If Pierre lost, then he had to let Brian find him a hook-up on Jack’d. Brian knew perfectly well that it had been many months since Pierre had had any type of sexual activity and was determined to find a way to rectify that.

Pierre sucked his teeth as he watched Brian tap lightly on his phone’s screen. “What are you even doing?”

“Just typing a little something to go with the lovely pics of you I just uploaded. Sweet and to the point. One night only, big dicks attached to fine men to the front of the line.”

“Eww,” Pierre replied. “I would never say anything like that.”

“I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I did. Now, go get yourself all ready. Let me handle this. I think I just found your dick deliverer for the evening.” Brian wore a knowing smile as he said this.

This is so stupid. I can’t believe I agreed to this. As Pierre got into the shower, another voice in his mind spoke up. It’s been too long. We want some dick. We NEED some dick. Pierre contemplated on this thought as he continued his routine.

45 minutes later, Brian was giving him the details of his scheduled rendezvous. “He’s six feet tall, two-hundred and fifteen pounds, muscular, chocolate, tats, handsome, with girth. Just how you like ‘em.”

“You say that like I have a type of something,” Pierre said darkly. He absently scrolled through the messages Brian and the man had exchanged, annoyed by the fact that there weren’t many. The pictures, he had to admit, were definitely pleasing.

“YOU DO,” Brian responded. “Everybody knows that. Save the games for next Saturday’s game night. Besides, he’ll be here in 10 minutes. So, I need to skidaddle. I want all the details tomorrow at brunch. And try not to be late this time.” With a wave, he was out of the door before Pierre could think of a comeback.

10 minutes later, there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find the man from Jack’d standing there in a tank top and basketball shorts. Pierre couldn’t help admitting that the man looked good, perhaps even better than his pictures online. He licked his lips. “Jaye, right?”

The man leered lustfully. “Yea, Pierre,” he said knowingly.

Pierre nodded before gesturing for the man to come in. They wasted no time in heading to the bedroom. Pierre was slightly unnerved by how quickly all of his inhibitions had vanished. He fine, he thought to himself. As hell, another inner voice agreed.

“I didn’t think you would look like your pic, to be honest,” Jaye said thoughtfully before pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a spectacular physique.

“You thought I was catfish?” Pierre asked playfully.

“Yea. I get a lot of dudes tryna play me,” he replied.

“I bet,” Pierre said as he surveyed Jaye’s body. “Listen, I only have one rule if we’re gonna do this.”

“What’s that?” Jaye asked before pulling off his basketball shorts. Pierre saw that he wasn’t wearing underwear.

“I don’t want to hear about what you don’t do. While we’re together, you act like I’m the only one. Make me feel like I’m the only one. And I’ll do the same. And before you say it, you don’t have to tell me you don’t get fucked. That’s not what I’m referring to.”

Jaye merely stared bemusedly. “Lose the clothes.” Pierre complied. “Damn,” Jaye said in a barely audible whisper. He made a few more appreciative sounds as Pierre turned on the spot to give Jaye a 360-degree view of his naked body.




© 2017 T.J. Clayton



Shimmering Silence

Paralyzed, his heart racing, Daniel laid in bed as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. He struggled to slow his breathing. ‘What was that?’ he wondered. A loud crashing sound had yanked him unceremoniously from sleep. He strained in the darkness, desperate to hear any and everything. He knew he should get out of bed and investigate the noise, but fear gripped him. ‘It was too loud to not be something,” he rationalized. With a great effort, he got out of bed. He went to his closet to find some sort of makeshift weapon, but all he could find were a set of 10lb. weights. He quickly grabbed them and made his way toward his bedroom door.

He saw a bright light under the door, making his fear rise. He knew that he hadn’t left any lights on before he went to bed, and his apartment was too small for the light to be coming from anywhere but his living room. ‘Somebody is in there,’ he thought to himself. He ignored the fact that even his internal voice sounded panic-stricken.

He silently eased the door open, hoping to catch the intruder off-guard. He tightened his grip on the weights and tip-toed out of the bedroom, but was again paralyzed after only a few steps. His eyes opened wide as he took in the sight before him. Shimmering a pure white in the middle of the living room was a— he wasn’t sure what it was. But he knew what it looked like.

“L-Leo?” he stammered. The figure merely stared amid the slight bobbing movement of flotation.

Daniel could feel tears forming in his eyes. How could Leonard (Leo) be here? He was gone. His funeral was a few days prior. And he didn’t look alive, but the image was so clear and bright. ‘I must be losing it,” Daniel thought. ‘It’s not real. I’m still asleep.’ He pinched himself as hard as he could in an attempt to wake himself, but nothing happened aside from the pain now throbbing from his arm. Could Leo actually be here? Or rather, some form of him?

“You can’t be here,” Leo said aloud. “Ghosts.. real… ghosts aren’t real.” Even as the words fell from his lips, his belief in them faded. The shimmering Leo continued to float in front of him, eyes boring into him. It was the eyes that made Daniel feel as though this was indeed a real ghost. It was Leo. His Leo.

Tears began to stream down Daniel’s face. “How are you here?” Silence. “I just said good-bye to you. I haven’t… I’m—” Daniel couldn’t find the words to express what he was feeling. His mind was reeling. How could this be? And why? Logic began to creep into his thoughts. If this was real, then there had to be a reason Leo had returned. Supernatural shows and movies began flying through Daniel’s mental eye. ‘Ghosts appear when the person that died has unfinished business on earth, don’t they?’ he asked himself. The thought was alarming. What residual dealings could Leo possibly have to resolve?

Alarming fear and confusion was soon replaced with guilt. Thick tears began cascading down Daniel’s cheeks. “Are you here because of me?” he queried. Ghost Leo remained silent. Daniel began finding it difficult to breathe. He felt unable to take a deep breath. Could he know? Had death shown Leo all the secrets Daniel had worked tirelessly to keep hidden from his lover? “Y-you are. Here. Because of me. You kn-know. Everything. Don’t you?” Still, Ghost Leo said nothing.

The crushing weight of Daniel’s guilt brought him to his knees. He wept violently. “I’M SORRY!” he bellowed suddenly. “I’m so sorry. I- You deserved more. Better.” He struggled to focus through his tears to look at Leo. The ghost remained silent. His face was as expressionless asit had been during the entire ordeal. “What do you want from me? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” Silence.

“You already know everything,” Daniel said between sobs. “Are you just here to torture me? Haunt me? What?” Silence. Daniel huffed.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Silence.

“Please, tell me. Say something. DO something.” Silence.

“Oh my God. Just say something!” Silence.

“You know what I’ve done. That’s why you’re here. So why don’t you say something?” A horrible thought suddenly invaded Daniel’s mind. “Are y-you here to kill me?” Still, silence.

Daniel screamed in frustration. “I don’t know what you want,” he declared miserably. ‘Confess,’ a voice said in his head. He recognized it as his own voice. Reluctantly, he spoke his transgressions aloud. He expected some sort of reaction from the ghost. But he was met with more infuriating silence. He continued, chronicling every lie he had ever told. Every time he cheated. Every time he stole. It was an emotional purge of sorts. The guilt lifted slightly as the tears flowed more freely. He ended his confession with a whispered “I’m sorry.”

He again looked up at the ghost of Leo. He blinked rapidly. Without warning, the bright shimmering figure morphed. Within a second, it had expanded into a dark, hulking figure, surrounded by a menacing mist. Daniel stumbled backwards from his knees to his backside. Horrified, he tried to back away from whatever it was that was in front of him. The figure roared. Daniel opened his mouth, but before he could think of something to say, the figure rushed forward and invaded his mouth. Daniel snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late. He could feel the awkward sensation move from his mouth to his throat before settling somewhere in his chest. He felt the wind be knocked out of him and something seized his heart. He threw his head back as the feeling enveloped his entire body. ‘I’m sorry,’ he thought again before darkness enclosed him.

Daniel sat up bolt right in his bed. He looked around his room. His bedroom door was open. On the floor right outside the door, he could see something black on the floor. He approached the space before fumbling backward in fear. On the floor, written in elegant script in what appeared to be black soot, were the words ‘I forgive you.’


© 2017 T.J. Clayton



Zeke slammed his hand on the steering wheel forcefully as the red and blue lights continued to flash in his rearview mirror. All he wanted to do was get to his friends’ house for Sunday funday, and now he had to contend with the possibility of getting a ticket, or worse. At that thought, his anger quickly evaporate and was replaced by a potent fear. Here he was on a quiet and practically deserted side-street. Anything could happen. He couldn’t help but concentrate on how much he did NOT want to become another hashtag.

“Just be cool,” Zeke said to himself. His voice sounded an octave higher than normal and his palms were starting to become slick with sweat. The officer was taking quite a while to get out of his vehicle, which made Zeke even more nervous.

Finally, the officer emerged. Zeke did a triple take, before turning his head completely to get a good look. The officer was tall and broad shouldered, with a deep complexion. He was bald, with a thick mustache. Surely, this must be some sort of dream? There’s no way Zeke had the good fortune to be pulled over by Officer McFine. Zeke’s mind started to wonder, but he was quickly pulled back into the present by a smart rapping sound on his window. He smiled sheepishly before rolling the window down.

The officer took a moment to survey him before he spoke. “License. Registration.” He said huskily. Zeke melted. With trembling hands, he hastened to oblige. He handed the officer the requested documentatioin and returned his hands to the steering wheel at the ’10 & 2’ position. He turned his head to the left and was met with crotch. He swallowed hard, then looked up. To his surprise, he was met with a smirk.

“Zeke, huh?” The officer queried. Zeke nodded. “You have any idea how fast you were going?” Zeke shook his head, afraid now of breaking eye contact. “Too fast,” the officer answered. “What’s the emergency?”

“Huh?” Zeke replied, confusion etched across his face. “Must be some sort of emergency for you to be driving like a bat out of hell on my streets,” the officer answered. Zeke didn’t trust himself to say too much, so he shook his head before replying, “No emergency. Just trying to get to point B.”

The officer narrowed his eyes in a somewhat menacingly. Zeke could himself starting to get hot. What was this man before him thinking? Before he could wonder any further, he was supplied with an answer.

“This’ll be a pretty pricey ticket, Zeke. You were going way over the speed limit.” The officer stared at him, seemingly boring a hole right through him. But he didn’t offer anything more, leaving Zeke to feel as though he was giving him an opportunity to plead his case. Problem being that Zeke couldn’t think of anything that he could possibly say that would get him out of a ticket.

“Sorry, officer,” he said feebly. “I’ll make sure I slow down.”

The smirk had returned to the officer’s face. “I’m sure you will. Step out of the car.” Zeke panicked. His heart was thundering in his chest. Why did he need to get out? Before he knew what was happening, the officer had opened his door and was beckoning for him to get out again. Slowly, Zeke unfastened his seat belt and stood. The officer had backed away a few steps to allow him room. Zeke was able to really appreciate the man now. He was at least 5 inches taller, with a weight advantage of about 40 muscular pounds. “You know,” he spoke, “most people at least try to get out of a ticket in situations like these.”

“Oh. I…uh-“

“Tell you what, I’ll throw you a bone. We can work this out without a ticket, I think, if you’re willing to take some direction.”

Zeke looked the officer, Officer Stone, he gleaned after glancing at his nametag. What sort of game was he playing now? It felt like the start of a bad porno. “What do you mean, direction?”

Officer Stone broke out into a toothy smile. With polished grace and speed, he grabbed Zeke’s hand and put it on his crotch. “Direction,” he repeated.

It WAS the start of a bad porno, Zeke thought. But it was a porno he would have no problem starring in. Even as he began to contemplate where the events were taking him, the meaty flesh in Officer Stone’s pants began to inflate. He gave it a gentle squeeze, encouraging its growth. “I’m good at taking direction,” he said, immediately feeling foolish afterward. Cheesy dialogue was just what he needed to add to this already strange occurrence.

Officer Stone put a hand on Zeke’s shoulder and forced him down. “Show me,” he said lustfully.

Is this really happening? There’s no way this is really happening. As Zeke sunk to his knees and began fumbling with Officer Stone’s zipper, he kept asking himself if what was happening was really happening. With minor difficulty, he freed the officer from the confines of his boxer briefs. Zeke took in the sight before him. I feel like Goldilocks, he thought. Not too big. Not too little. Just right. Officer Stone brought him out of his trance-like appreciation with a slight thrust of his hips. It was such a seemingly cliché situation, but Zeke decided to go with the flow and enjoy it.

He took Officer Stone into his mouth slowly, welcoming the mildly salty taste. He could smell the musk, peppered lightly with the scent of soap. A clean man, he thought. He only took a few seconds to allow himself to revel in the exploratory phase before he steeled himself to perform. Officer Stone sunk further into his mouth. He looked up and their eyes met. Officer Stone still had a smirk on his face. Zeke was determined to wipe it off. He went deeper, stretching his mouth wider. Zeke opened his bag of tricks, alternating between gobbling, licking, and sucking. He then spit on his hand before introducing it to the mix. It was then that he elicited a bigger reaction from the officer. He moaned and his knees buckled slightly as Zeke slowly pumped his hand over the engorged head. Direction indeed, he thought. He returned his oral combination assault, keeping the hand motion in play constantly. It wasn’t long before the officer started giving signs that he was close to climaxing. He puts his hands on Zeke’s head, fidgeted, and rocked on the balls of his feet, seemingly trying to fight back his orgasm. Zeke would have none of that. With vigor he sucked and pumped, enjoying the jumping he felt in his mouth. He knew it would be any second before he was rewarded for his work. Sure enough, Officer Stone gripped Zeke’s shoulder as he grunted through his orgasm. Zeke’s reward was indeed plentiful. He swallowed it before looking up and meeting the officer’s eyes again. “Told you, I know how to take direction.” Now it was his turn to smirk.

“Yes, you do,” Officer Stone replied as he began to tuck himself back into his pants. Zeke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up. Officer Stone reached into his breast pocket and produced a card. “Give me a call when you want to take some more direction,” he said. He turned and walked back toward his car. He paused, before turning back toward Zeke and said, “And slow down.”

“Yes, sir,” Zeke said with a grin. He hopped back into his car with thoughts of what the next encounter with Officer Stone would be like.


© 2017 T.J. Clayton


Hump Day

Jalen led me into his dorm room while insisting I stay quiet. He was wearing a shirt that read “Every Day is Hump Day in Aggieland.” I couldn’t help but smirk. The small, closet-lined hallway leading into the main area of shared room was as dark as the night sky. We took a small detour before getting into the living area toward the small bathroom area.

“My roommate is sleep,” he said with a devious grin on his face. I chuckled. It was a strange position to be in, but seeing as how I was on the extreme DL and didn’t have any space for this hookup to take place, I couldn’t complain. I knew what I was getting into before I arrived. And I knew what I wanted to get into.

If you had told me that I’d be at Texas A&M University having sex with a guy in his dorm room bathroom while his roommate was asleep mere feet away, I’d have told you that, as a good church boy, I’d never be so reckless. But here I was. In the thick of it.

Jalen turned the shower on in the bathroom to drown out the noise we were making. We both said silent prayers that his roommate wouldn’t wake up needing to alleviate himself. Jalen was a little timid, so I reached out and touched his arm gingerly. Once the proverbial ice was broken, he got into it. I yanked his shirt over his head before taking mine off. I took a moment to take in his body, specifically his chest. We began groping and kissing afterward. His lips were really soft and he was a great kisser. I was pleasantly surprised. His hands went to the zipper of my shorts. He finessed my budding erection out and gave it a few gentle strokes. We maneuvered so that he was in the small the wet room with his back toward the running shower. I stood in the doorway with my back towards the rest of the room to block the view, just in case his roommate decided to interrupt us. The last thing I needed was another church boy catching me with my penis in his roommate’s mouth. No sir.

Jalen got down on his knees, looking up at me. There was something about the way his eyes looked into mine while he was in such a submissive position that made me even hornier than I already was. He slowly took me into his mouth and I nearly lost it. His mouth was so wet. And warm. I wasn’t prepared for it. I’m not sure if it was because his mouth was really just that warm or if it was because it had been a while since I had an orgasm. At this point it really didn’t matter. I put my hand on the back of his head with the intention of guiding him, but it wasn’t necessary. The suction he was using was perfect. Every few down strokes he would stop and swirl his tongue on the underside of the head of my dick. My knees actually buckled a bit the first time he did it. I had to grab on to the door frame to support myself.

I’m not sure how I was able to keep quiet. My mouth was wide open for the duration. He didn’t slack at all, continuing his little tongue tricks that pushed me closer and closer to climax. I focused on everything but him, specifically his eyes. I knew once I saw those brown pools focusing on me, I would blow. I bit my bottom lip while he pleased me. I hadn’t felt this good in a long time. It was hard trying to do “right” in the eyes of God when your flesh craved another man’s touch. I was pulled back into the present by a familiar tingling sensation. He seemed to be able to sense I was approaching the point of no return. He increased the suction and that was all it took. I moaned, not caring how loud I was. He pulled away just in time to avoid me spraying in his mouth. My seed spilled onto the floor instead. I used the majority of my strength to hold myself up so I wouldn’t fall. Once I came down from my high, guilt immediately set in. I began to panic. I took a few steps back and re-sheathed myself. I tried to keep as calm as possible so Jalen wouldn’t notice my anxiety. Luckily, he didn’t seem too concerned with reciprocation. I wiped my brow before I put my shirt back on. Jalen did the same. He poked his head into his room to make sure his roommate was still asleep. We both sighed in relief that he was. He had a smirk on his face as he ushered me towards the door.

“You good?” I felt obligated to ask. “Yep,” he responded. “I’m good.”

He opened the door and I walked through. “Thanks, Ron,” he said. I smiled as I walked away, while on the inside I was on the verge of a mental and spiritual breakdown. But I can’t deny it was some good head.


© 2016 T.J. Clayton


In and Out

He knocked on the door lightly, not wanting to be overheard by neighbors. He heard the locks tumble before the door slowly opened. His nervousness made itself known in the form of sweaty palms. He wiped them on his jeans as he walked in the dark space. No words were exchanged. He followed his host through a door into a room lit only by the flickering flame of a candle. Seeing an opportunity, he stole a quick glance at the other man. The man’s agreeable facial features seemed to be accentuated by the swaying rays. He found a slight smirk tugging gently at the corner of his mouth as the man closed the door behind him.

The two faced each other. The appreciation was swift, as was what occurred next. Before he could plan his next action, the man was on his knees in front of him, eagerness making him fumble. They locked eyes as the belt buckle was quickly loosened. Next went the button and zipper. The man let out a huff of amusement as the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath the jeans. He pulled the length of the engorged flesh free, giving it several gently squeezes. The man seemed to be surveying its weight and girth.

Impatience beginning to get the best of him, he used his hands to guide the man to the prize. The man, feeling just as zealous, the man allowed himself to be directed. He inhaled sharply as he felt the warm wetness envelope him. He could feel the man’s tongue conducting an exquisite ballet on the underside of his shaft. Deliberately, the man allowed his mouth to be penetrated. He hummed with anticipation and glee as his eyes glistened with satisfaction. The man had wanted this pleasure for quite some time and was fully prepared to indulge himself. He savored the taste as he was gently stretched.

With a long exhale, he continued to direct himself into the man’s eager orifice. As the suction increased, so did his pleasure and tenderness. He squared his feet to shoulder width. He pushed the man down further and was met with no resistance. Then he pulled back. He admired his spit-slicked piece before plunging it back into the willing cavity. The man used one of his hands to stead his hips while using the other to grip the base of his current treasure; he was ready properly flex his skills. The man removed him with a soft pop sound and a smile. The two eyed each other before the man unexpectedly swallowed his whole stick. His knees buckled slightly and he released a loud moan. This served as fuel for the man. He increased his suction and rhythm, taking short strokes before he would let him penetrate his throat. The two repeated this pattern over and over.

His aggressive nature bubbling to the surface, he maneuvered himself and the man until the man’s back rested against his bad. He titled the man’s head upward slightly before removing his foot from one leg of his jeans. He placed his free foot on the edge of the bed and guided himself back into the man’s mouth. Bending slightly, he began to feed himself to the man slowly. Every few strokes, he would pick up the pace. The man merely put his hands on his butt to both steady himself and encourage him to push deeper.

With long, forceful passes, he began to work up a sweat with his motions. The man would adjust and readjust the level of suction with every sweep, moaning constantly. The hum of the man’s vocals sent another sensation through him. He could see beads of sweat forming on the man’s forehead. His eyes were closed. The man used his hands to push him further. He steadied himself before settling into hard, lengthy strokes. He was nearing his climax and wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, so to speak. The man allowed himself to be used, relishing the feeling. He was, however, ready for a different taste. He could feel the subtle jumps in his mouth, alerting him that he would see be rewarded for his work.

One. Two. Three. With the last stroke, he settled deep into the man’s mouth, emptying himself without care. He swore loudly as the sensation of his orgasm and force of the man’s mouth overwhelmed him. He could feel the strong muscles in the man’s face continue to work him and his continued to spill his seed. The man continued with his movements, even after the sensitivity set in and he bucked from the feeling. Slowly, he removed himself from the man’s mouth, allowing him to milk him for the last few drops. He took a few steps back and surveyed the man. He had a broad smile on his face and exuded an air of accomplishment and satisfaction.

He chuckled to himself before stuffing himself back into his jeans. The man was up and on his feet before he got his belt buckled. The gave one another a knowing look before they exited the room, their path illuminated by the warm wisps of light from the candles. They reached the front door, giving each other a small smile. He stepped out into the breezeway without looking back, content etched onto his face.


© 2016 T.J. Clayton