A collection of sexy, intelligent erotica from the delegates of sex writers’ conference Eroticon 2013.
Edited by Ruby Kiddell
Including my story Pulse and Flow, an m/m erotic romance.
The song changed, and the dancer turned around, shifting his movements to match the music. His eyes were closed. They lazily opened, and across the room, met Don’s gaze.
Don half expected a bemused smirk, a ‘oh how amusing that you think you could get with me’ look. Instead, the dancer smiled, and beckoned with his hand.
Don swallowed, and tried to move forward casually. A stray elbow bumped him, and sent him tumbling into the man’s arms. Don swore, and the bloke chuckled.
“Crowded in here, isn’t it?” The dancer wasn’t letting go.
Don sighed, tried to stand more upright, but the man barely let him get his balance before starting to dance with him.
The bloke’s lean frame was all gorgeously coiled muscle, and despite Don being an inch shorter, they seemed made to fit each other. The image was incongruous, but he thought of swans twining their necks around each other, graceful drifting birds on the water. As the man moved, Don responded to him, letting himself be led. The pulse of blues music was somewhere buried in the electronic sounds, and he shut his eyes, trying to feel it. He allowed his hands to drop to the man’s arse, and spread his fingers out, digging them in. The man sighed, and pressed his cheek to Don’s.
When the song changed, the man stopped moving.
“Take me home?” he said in Don’s ear.
Don had anticipated following the other man back to his, but he brushed his nose against the man’s cheek, and nodded.
They found the nearest tube stop, leaned against each other as the train rattled the short distance to Don’s place. It was only when they emerged back onto the street that the dancer, following Don, grabbed Don’s shoulder.
Don looked back, and grinned. “Alex?”
A firm smile. “Alexander.”
“Cool. I’m Don.”
In the light of Don’s tiny flat, Alexander’s hair had the brightness of winter clementines. Don grasped it in his fingers, Alexander lolled against his body and the only thing Don could do was cup his face and draw their mouths together.
The kisses were hot, filled with tongue and pure lust. Clothes were thrown off with little care, and Don steered them to the bedroom as if he were guiding Alexander across the dance floor but with more skidding and tripping over stray running shoes.
Alexander crawled onto the bed as Don took his jeans off. He lay on his side, and Don sighed at the sight of his skin, milky white with smatterings of freckles, and light body hair a softer shade of red than on his head. His pubes made an enticing orange circle around his cock.
Alexander looked up at Don with expectant eyes. Don paused. He’d picture Alexander on top of him, the dance replicating itself on the bed, Alexander stretched over his body like a hungry tiger. Nothing in Alexander’s current pose suggested that. But Don’s dick was hard, and Alexander’s long, elegant one was just asking to be touched, so Don slid next to him, and cupped Alexander’s balls with one hand and his gorgeous arse with the other. His balls were soft, and his arse firm yet pliant.
They pressed together, their hands guiding their cocks along side each others, the movements easy and smooth. The kisses were warm, the burning heat from before dissipated. It wasn’t long before they came, Don holding both their cocks together, rubbing them side by side while Alexander clutched Don’s shoulders.
“Nice…” Alexander breathed, his dropping to Don’s shoulder.
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