Confession: Gay Erotic Tales - Book 3

Romance, love, and coming out

There was nothing in the fridge besides a loaf of white bread, a few condiments, and something that was completely unrecognizable, floating around in the bottom of the crisper drawer. Groceries were always a bit sparse right before my brother, Andrew, was paid.

I felt bad. My inability to find a proper job and keep it for any length of time had really put my brother in a spot financially. I'd officially been living off his generosity for almost three months now, and he was getting sick of my mooching, a topic of many heated discussions.

I threw the fridge door closed, empty-handed.

Now, what am I supposed to do?

I leaned over the back of the sofa, slid onto the seat cushions, and rolled onto my side. My shoulder blades and lower back were bruised and extremely tender after being stretched out on those beer kegs last night, but they were the least of my worries.

As predicted, I was unemployed again.

I'd tried to explain to Andrew it wasn't entirely my fault I'd been fired from my position at Crush after only one night, but without being able to give him the full details of what had pissed my boss, Dylan, off so much, I came off sounding like an idiot. I had no plans of ever filling Andrew in on that little piece of information.

I'd blown Dylan, let him fuck me, and cum all over my face, but he'd been hung up on the fact I wouldn't let him kiss me. He'd had the nerve to call me a tease after what I'd let him and Jake do to me last night.

A tease? Fucking asshole.

I was comfortable being called a slut and a whore, it was a real turn-on, but I was no tease. What kind of tease lets you strip them, soak them in beer, and use them to that extent?

Tease, huh.

Just because I wouldn't kiss him, the fucker had fired me. Talk about sexual harassment in the workplace.

I eased further into the cushions of the sofa and undid the Velcro fastener of my swim shorts. Andrew wasn't due home from work for a while yet, and the memory of everything that had happened to me last night was making me hard. I slipped my hand into my shorts and stroked my cock flat against my stomach.

I reached for the towel I'd left on the floor after my shower, spread it out on the cushions to protect them, then slipped my shorts entirely off my ass and lay down on my stomach.

Needing something to hold on to, I propped myself up on my elbows and pushed my fingers into the space between the last sofa cushion and the armrest. I thrust the hardening length of my cock between my body and the towel. The sensitive head slipped in and out of my foreskin. I set my forehead on the edge of the armrest, groaning, and bit my lip as my arousal increased.

This wasn't going to take long.