Monday, March 25, 2013

Story Orgy Monday - Someone like Brian

Good morning and Happy Monday to you all. I hope this blog post is finding you warm and well. It is also my hope that everyone enjoys their upcoming Easter weekend. It's approaching fast! 

Below is a story I wrote for this week's Story Orgy post. Someone like Brian was inspired by a bad morning I had in my class Strategic Planning and Implementation class. It wasn't pretty at all. I delved into a story and this is what I came up with. So, sit back with your favorite beverage and enjoy the short story. 

Someone like Brian

Jerry McCann sat in his office grading papers and sipping his morning coffee when someone knocked on the door.

"Office hours are from two pm to four pm. Come back then." Jerry thought his irritable tone would surely deter the visitor.

Another knock prompted the music teacher to stand and make a bee line for his office door. He swung  the door with a disgruntled greeting. "What? Can't you see the hours posted?” Jerry pointed to the sign on his door.

"Well, yes. I see your sign Mr. McCann, but I'm the pianist." The man said with a country accent as he held out his hand. "Brian Dennison's my name. You invited me to speak to your class and this is the only time I have to chat with you before I do." Brian's kindness was undesirable at that time. Not at seven in the morning.

"I'm still having my first cup of coffee. You'll have to excuse my petulance. Can I get you a cup? I reckon we can chat since you're already here." Jerry didn't wait for a response. He walked over to his coffee pot and poured a cup. "Sugar and cream is here if you need it." Jerry left the cup on the counter and rounded his desk. He sat, took a sip, and resumed grading his students' music sheets, waiting for Brian to make his move.

Jerry, distracted by handsome physique, watched Brian out of the corner of his eyes, admiring the stocky build and broad shoulders. Brian's ass filled out his jeans in every respect. Brian stirred cream and sugar into the coffee, dropped his stirrer in the trash, and sat across from Jerry.

Jerry shoved his paperwork aside and looked across the desk at the handsome man, wondering how his short, stubby fingers could play the piano without hitting the wrong keys.

"I wanted to discuss what your expectations are," Brian said as he rubbed a finger around the rim of his Styrofoam cup.

"Honestly, I merely needed a timeslot to catch up on some grading. My hope is that you can keep them occupied with your knowledge of music and instruments." Jerry shifted his eyes to a painting on the wall, trying not to stare at his guest. He turned to the window to take a look at the sunrise and sip his coffee. "How long have you been playing the piano?"

"Since I was a kid; about twenty-two years or so." Brian replied with a questioning undertone.

"I see. That makes you about thirty years old then, huh?" Jerry turned to face Brian again, taking a half seat on the edge of his desk.

"Somewhere around there." Brian chuckled. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Age doesn't matter at all. I was merely asking to entertain my thoughts." Jerry's eyes fixed on Brian's and he thought he'd fall off the desk right then and there. The pools of blue seemed to pull Jerry right in. A stirring in his groin distracted him altogether.

"Sir, are you alright?" Brian's attempt to engage again was admirable, but Jerry wanted more.

"Sir? Please don't call me that. You make me sound old." Jerry's mood lightened.

Jerry spun a pencil on his desk. "You don't have time for lunch today would you? You said you were busy. However, we could have more time to talk later. I'm about to–"

"I tell you what. I'll meet with you tomorrow for lunch. You don't have me scheduled for class for two more days. Since your office hours are from 2 to 4, we'll meet up around that time. I'll make arrangements with my boss."

"I thought you were your own boss. You're a pianist." Jerry cocked his head.

"I'm also a housekeeper." Brian's gaze dropped to the floor.

"Oh. What I hear you saying is you're a houseboy with a passion for playing the piano." Jerry slid from the desk and back into his chair.

"That pretty much sums it up. Okay, it's a date." Brian stood, shook Jerry's hand, and turned to leave.


Brian stopped, turned on his heels, and raised a brow. "Yes?"

"Oh. Never mind. It's not important. I'll see you tomorrow." Jerry gestured his goodbye with a hand in the air.

Jerry waited for the door to shut and tapped the desk with his pencil. Sheesh. He's got one hell of a country accent. I love it!

Jerry went through the rest of the day struggling to get the thought of Brian out of his head. He couldn't wait to get home so he didn't have to concentrate. Several hours passed and Jerry didn't linger. He didn't wait for the students. He beat them out the door for once. He kept going despite the bantering behind him.

Finally! Jerry unlocked the door to his condo, opening and closing it as fast as he could. He dropped his briefcase at the door and ran up the stairs, unbuttoning and tugging at his clothes all the way to his bedroom. Shucking them immediately, Jerry stood in front of his mirror with his cock in hand. He rubbed and massaged it to full erection. Jerry stroked his cock slow. No lube. No spit. Nothing. Only the thought of his stout new acquaintance.

Jerry tightened his grip, but kept his pace. He eased up on the hold each stroke he made, lightly touching around the head of his cock. Jerry's cocked ached for release. His ball sac contracted and his cock throbbed. Jerry jerked his head back, rocked onto his toes, and closed his eyes, taking pleasure in the much needed release.

Jerry raised his head upright and opened his eyes. He reveled at the smile on his face. It's been too long since I've felt this way. He swooped down and grabbed a dirty sock and wiped the cum that ran down the mirror.

Jerry was already making plans on how he wanted the lunch date to go the following day. 


What'd ya think? I know. It's short, but it works *grins*. Enjoy your week. I hope your week is as short as my story LOL, Lots o' love from Texas! 

Monday, March 18, 2013

Making Up- A Flash Fiction Piece

 Good afternoon and my apologies for being late everyone! Monday began for me with a tragic coffee pot incident this morning. I had to brew the coffee three times. You can bet that slowed me down quite a bit! 

I'm still reeling from the caffeine deficiency. 

Since I'm behind, I'm flying in and out this morning, and I thought I'd share just a bit of a future project with you. This one is 200 words. It's a bit of flash fiction that will end up at about 5K one of these days when I can squeeze in the time to finish the story. Meanwhile, I enjoy flashing as a way of stirring up the creative juices. Have you tried it? 

And since it's Monday and we could all use a little pick-me up...or at least I can, here's some sugar for your coffee...

He thinks we should have stayed in bed, too. 

Making Up

"You think you can do no wrong, don't you?"

Chris's scorn raked over old wounds. Good let him be angry.  Stan was sick of pretending to be friends with his ex. He'd engineered this meeting to resolve that issue.

"It's not my opinion of myself that bothers you." Stan scowled at his critic. "It's my opinion of you that riles you. Anyone would think it was your money we're talking about. You're a tightfisted miser, Chris." Money had been at the root of all their fights back then, too.

"Your boundless ego ceased to be amusing three bounced checks and an over the limit gold card ago." Chris scribbled something on a note pad.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stan shifted forward to hide the way his dick responded to Chris's display of emotion. Too many memories of angry make up sex that melted into tender apologies battered at him. "Don't I pay you to take care of all that shit?"

"One of the bounced checks was written to me."

"So you don't work for me now?" Stan darted from his chair and dropped into Chris's lap.


"Then there's no reason I can't do this, is there?"

Monday, March 11, 2013

I love men - Jade Baiser

Hello everybody. How is your Monday? And how was your week-end? Did you have fun? I know I did!

I almost forgot that it was my turn to entertain you (I know, shame on me). But I’m on vacation, with no internet, so it was hard to even have this post ready! The truth is, even on vacation, I still think about you, and I had to do something. So here I am, stealing a few hours on Internet when I shouldn’t, but I would do anything for the Story Orgy!

So today, I would like to talk about MEN.

That’s what it’s all about in fact, isn’t it? We love men, all kind of men; big, small, tall, skinny, slim, muscled, blond, redheaded, brunette, Black, Asian, bear, beard, twink, … well, I think you got it now, right?

I decided to post excerpt of my Story Orgy fellows’ books, but only men descriptions you can click on the titel of the books to know where you can find them). And I encourage you to tell us which one of these fabulous men you like most, and why? You’re ready?

Now, the first one is from one of my favorite books, I think I told you this before, so I couldn’t help but put a longer excerpt. Just to show you how a description can make you really love a character, you know?
A Beautiful Silence - Lee Brazil
Silently he regarded himself in the free standing mirror that stood in the corner opposite the bed. Brown hair with a bit of gray at the temples, he could call that distinguished. Brown eyes, crinkles at the corners, not bad. Not enough tan for a California boy, but he worked too much to hang out at the beach and tan. A trip to a tanning salon might be in order, if only the potential health risks involved didn’t turn his stomach. He turned sideways and studied his body taking inventory as he went. Broad shoulders, chest wasn’t bad… maybe a little hairy. Maybe he should shave it? He ran his fingers through the dusting of brown curls. Jesus… was that a gray hair? He pulled it, wincing at the tiny pain. Was that a bit of softening in his gut? He sucked in and threw his shoulders back. Nah. Nothing a little more time in the gym wouldn’t take care of. He just had to start making sure that he made the time to work out regularly. Was he losing his sex appeal?

Ok, now, here are little excerpts from all the SO members’ books. Enjoy!
Only Sam - Em Woods
Warm and rough as whisky, a masculine voice slid down Dylan’s spine and bee-lined right for his cock. When Dylan turned, he blinked in confusion. Initially, he couldn’t see much detail through the soot. The firefighter’s hair looked light brown, maybe blond. It was those green eyes staring at him from an ash-darkened face that sent him into a near-pant. Sam.

Shacked Up - Hank Edwards
Despite the tension of Mark’s situation, the sound of Pierce’s voice brought to mind thoughts of the man, and Mark could see Pearce as clearly as if he were sitting in the seat next to him: short-cut brown hair, normally alert brown eyes heavy with boredom, his six-foot-four, muscular frame cramped at his desk. The image sent a shock of lust right to his crotch, as usual.

Emery's Ritches - Havan Fellows
Snapping out of his daydream, Ritchie turned to the intruding voice and set eyes on the sexiest man he’d seen in a long time. Short golden hair on the sides, longer in front, clear silver-blue eyes, high forehead, and pouty cupid’s bow lips. Hot damn, he’s a god.

Finding Pleasure (And The Prompt Is Volume One) - JR Boyd By the time Sterling had turned back around, he stood stark naked before Sterling; securing the fact that his bronzed skin radiated in the dim illumination of the ambiance designed especially for rest. Cenzo stepped up to Sterling. “You like? I’ve been working on my tan.” He turned a quarter turn to either side. “See? No tan lines.”

Because You're You - Lee Brazil
While the sweet baby with his gurgling laughter was an invitation to joy, the father, a pale skinned, wiry man was an invitation to sin. His dark hair badly needed cutting, and he appeared not to have shaved for days. Good lord, those tattoos! Sully wanted to lick the moist drops of pool water from every inch of inked skin as it swirled across compact muscles in direct contrast to the creamy flesh

A Reminder of his Shame (And The Prompt Is Road Trip Edition) - Jade Baiser
Aidan was Josh’s dream and every parent’s idea of the perfect son-in-law. Tall, well-built, with curly golden hair, shining blue eyes, and an unfailing self confidence. The opposite of Josh, who was African American, somewhat sickly, very shy, and openly gay.



Well, I don’t know about you, but after reading these excerpts, I need two things: to read more about these men, and to take a shower (not necessary in that order…).

One problem we’ve been dealing with lately is about the pics. You know that I LOVE pics, but with the copyrights, it’ hard to post any of them. But I wouldn’t be Jade if I didn’t post one or two to illustrate my post. So I found a solution. VIDEO! I made a vid with more than a hundred men’s bodies, and I’m sharing it with you. I hope you’ll enjoy it! (Some of you might not like the song I choose… no big deal, play the vid without the sound! I personally choose this song because I think it fits what I’m feeling, but it’s my choice. Don’t let it stop you from watching it!)
I wanted to post the video here, but with the bad internet I have here, Blogger is being difficult with me. So I'm just posting the Link...

And since I’m in a very good mood, each one of you who will comment on this post will receive a notebook which I made with my innocent white hands…  You’ll have to leave me your address so I can mail it to you. You can either send me a message on my Facebook page, or on the Story Orgy page, or by mail:

That’s all for today. Have a wonderful Monday!

Monday, March 4, 2013

Something chill from Hank...

Good Monday morning, friends! It's been 6 weeks since I had the pleasure of posting on the SO blog, and I'm excited to post the start of something new I've been working on. It will be a short story in its initial form (yes, HAVAN and LEE, it will so be under 7,500 words :)  ), but it may morph into something longer later (it's a grower, not a shower... what? You don't think I could just let that one LIE there, did you? *smirks*)

I hope you're all doing well and that March is treating you well so far. It's been pretty calm up here in Michigan, and we're hoping for a week of 40 degrees each day. Balmy!

Have you seen the new cover for the Empire Press release of Cowboys & Vampires - Venom Valley Book One? Take a gander, isn't it amazing? Book 2 of my Venom Valley Series will be out later this year, also with a brand new title and cover, and then Book 3 will be released. I'm excited that Empire Press has taken these stories to heart, and we hope to introduce Josh, Dex, and Glory to lots of new readers!

Okay, without further ado, meet Grizz, the survivor of an icy holocaust, in the beginning of my yet-to-be-titled short story... Enjoy!

Ice Story

by Hank Edwards

(c) 2013

Grizz's feet were already numb. He should have listened, but of course he didn't. He never did.
And now here he was, far outside the perimeter of their small base in the black pitch of night. No fire, no water, not even a second layer of furs. He was an idiot. And all because of a gut feeling he had about the Lowlanders.

But that feeling had been strong, and if it was one thing that had kept Grizz all these years living atop the ice, it was listening to his gut. He'd noticed a pattern to the Lowlanders' scavenging, and thought they might be ready for another foraging run up the hills. Up into the territory staked out by Grizz's people.

Not that he had anyone close enough to call his "people." Of all the men living at their base high up in the hills, Grizz was the only gay man. He had grown up among the other men, grown tough and cold along with them, and secretly fallen in and out of love with most of them. But he had yet to lie with a man. Sometimes he wondered if he would die a virgin, never bedded and never loved.
As his thoughts turned inward and darker, Grizz tromped across the ice, the spikes strapped to the bottoms of his fur-lined boots keeping him from sliding uncontrollably down the slope. The cold of the ice had seeped up through the soles of his boots, into his feet, and now sent chilling fingers up his calves. Places out of the wind and off the ice were few and far between, but if he didn't find somewhere to bunk down for the night sometime soon he would freeze to death.

Just like the rest of the world.

He made himself keep moving, kept his blood flowing, and turned his thoughts from his lack of love to the time not so long ago when this hillside would have been covered in grass and wildflowers. The sun had been warm, the bees and butterflies making the rounds of the flowers. If he remembered correctly, there had been two small streams running through it all, clear and ice cold, filled with the snowmelt from the mountains.

Now, however, it was all buried under thirty feet of solid ice. And all because of the stupidity of a group of reactionary revolutionaries who knew just enough about science to destroy the world. Well, if not destroy, then wrap it in ice so thick it would take generations to melt, and then what would they be left with? Floods, scarce land and resources, and a lack of food.

Very much like the earth of today.

As he trod across the ice, Grizz found himself on a trajectory that would take him past one of the substations used by the revolutionaries in their attempt to right the wrongs of global warming. The results of their experiment had been swift and devastating. The record breaking heat of the summer season had cooled, and at first the country was relieved and celebrated. But the cooling didn't stop. The temperature dropped further, plummeting the entire globe into a freeze that ravaged life across the planet. Millions died, including Grizz's parents, sisters, and brothers, and a majority of the people in his town. The days, weeks, and months after the event were a blur. He remembered the summer weather turning cooler, then cold, and then colder still. When it was just Grizz and his mother left, they had huddled together in the upper room of their small bungalow. His mother had slipped away fast, the cold digging into her and sapping her strength. Grizz had held his mother against him in a futile attempt to keep her warm, keep her alive, but finally, her final breath clouded the air in front of her blue lips, and she was gone. After that, he'd taken up with the few men left in town, gathered what supplies they could and moved higher up into the hills as the clouds gathered and a cold, sleeting rain began to fall.

That had been fifteen years ago, when Grizz had been a sophomore in high school. Now, as ice pellets formed in his beard and the cold stretched eager fingers deeper into his lungs with each intake of breath, Grizz felt less like a thirty year old man and more like a beaten and broken elderly man.
From the corner of his eye, Grizz caught sight of a flicker of movement, and he stopped in his tracks. He squinted into the dim iridescence that burned along the ice flow. Something about the properties of the ice crystals themselves caused this strange glow, or so he'd been told long ago. Whatever the reason, at least they had something to light their paths now that the sun and moon were no longer able to cut through the thick cloud cover.

There it was again. A shadowy form climbing steadily up the ice floe. No one from the Ridgeline Camp would be out this late; well, no one besides Grizz himself. It had to be a Lowlander, and Grizz was determined to keep them down in the valley where they belonged, away from the few items left to scavenge here on the hillside.

With his heart pounding, Grizz crouched low and started toward the figure below.