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B.K. Wright/Beau to Beau Books
Secrets of Eros
Secrets of Eros
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Whether searching for a master, haunted by ghosts of lovers past, christening a friend’s new apartment, or grooming prize winning roses while being secretly seduced by a much younger man, these are men who love men, worshipers of the god Priapus, and privy to the secrets of Eros.
Excerpt:
Dante had two loves in his life – his body and his bike, and both gave him pleasure. He had one of those male bodies that develops pretty much on its own and needs little maintenance. Most guys hated him in that respect, though what he did with his body pleased many of them.
At Chaps, a quasi-leather bar, he hoped to pick up a trick for some quick action. He was dressed to seduce in faded tight blue jeans, black boots, a leather jacket, and his trademark shades with the stems disappearing in curly black hair. That was Dante. With a bottle of beer in his hand, he would stand against the wall beside the cigarette machine, and during the course of the next fifteen minutes he would gradually unzip his jacket an inch or two at a time to reveal his perfect upper body. He had perfectly formed pectoral muscles that snaked across his upper chest dividing it into halves. Unmasked by chest hair, Dante’s muscles flowed smoothly up and down with every movement of his arms as he drank his beer. The same was true of his firm abdominals rippling beneath tight flesh. By the end of the first bottle of beer, Dante would have the jacket completely unzipped and hanging open.
Any newcomer would enjoy the view of his body, and their eyes could trace his torso from his neck to the top of his low cut blue jeans that grabbed his waist four inches below his navel. Many had silently wondered if he shaved or not, because not even the slightest strand of hair was visible as the flesh disappeared into his jeans.
With his shades on and his eyes hidden, Dante would scour the room looking for a hunk for the night. Without knowing for sure if Dante were checking them out or ignoring them, newcomers could only look in his direction and fantasize. Only when Dante had found the man for the night that appeared interesting would he wander over next to him to order his second beer from the bartender. With the open jacket as an open invitation to feel his flesh, he rarely paid for his second beer. Usually a brief conversation at the bar followed by a brief examination of mutual endowments in the men’s room, and the two would shortly disappear into the night.
While he had many friends in the bar who enjoyed watching his pick-up routine, Dante was unaware how much his performance was commented on, and even timed and wagered on. But he rarely failed to score.
Dante liked the look of the young man who wanted him tonight. Jake was in his mid-twenties, with spiked blond hair, blue eyes, the two-day-haven’t-shaved look, black dress pants, and a white dress shirt open at the neck with indications of a nice mat of chest hair barely showing. The bad boy side of him immediately had visions of the two of them together, doing anything and everything, but the nice guy side of him took control of the sex-craving side, at least until he could get him home.
Excerpt:
Dante had two loves in his life – his body and his bike, and both gave him pleasure. He had one of those male bodies that develops pretty much on its own and needs little maintenance. Most guys hated him in that respect, though what he did with his body pleased many of them.
At Chaps, a quasi-leather bar, he hoped to pick up a trick for some quick action. He was dressed to seduce in faded tight blue jeans, black boots, a leather jacket, and his trademark shades with the stems disappearing in curly black hair. That was Dante. With a bottle of beer in his hand, he would stand against the wall beside the cigarette machine, and during the course of the next fifteen minutes he would gradually unzip his jacket an inch or two at a time to reveal his perfect upper body. He had perfectly formed pectoral muscles that snaked across his upper chest dividing it into halves. Unmasked by chest hair, Dante’s muscles flowed smoothly up and down with every movement of his arms as he drank his beer. The same was true of his firm abdominals rippling beneath tight flesh. By the end of the first bottle of beer, Dante would have the jacket completely unzipped and hanging open.
Any newcomer would enjoy the view of his body, and their eyes could trace his torso from his neck to the top of his low cut blue jeans that grabbed his waist four inches below his navel. Many had silently wondered if he shaved or not, because not even the slightest strand of hair was visible as the flesh disappeared into his jeans.
With his shades on and his eyes hidden, Dante would scour the room looking for a hunk for the night. Without knowing for sure if Dante were checking them out or ignoring them, newcomers could only look in his direction and fantasize. Only when Dante had found the man for the night that appeared interesting would he wander over next to him to order his second beer from the bartender. With the open jacket as an open invitation to feel his flesh, he rarely paid for his second beer. Usually a brief conversation at the bar followed by a brief examination of mutual endowments in the men’s room, and the two would shortly disappear into the night.
While he had many friends in the bar who enjoyed watching his pick-up routine, Dante was unaware how much his performance was commented on, and even timed and wagered on. But he rarely failed to score.
Dante liked the look of the young man who wanted him tonight. Jake was in his mid-twenties, with spiked blond hair, blue eyes, the two-day-haven’t-shaved look, black dress pants, and a white dress shirt open at the neck with indications of a nice mat of chest hair barely showing. The bad boy side of him immediately had visions of the two of them together, doing anything and everything, but the nice guy side of him took control of the sex-craving side, at least until he could get him home.
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