For today (Monday, June 20, 2016), all Totally Bound and Pride Publishing books are on sale for 25% off!
That means Capturing the Moment and all other novellas are $2.81 instead of $3.75.
Click the link below for more discounted titles.
Filed under: Capturing the Moment Book Tour, Writing | Tagged: All Romance Books, Book Sale, delilah night | Leave a comment »
Hope for Pulse – Hate Will Never Win
From the ashes of tragedy, hope will survive. When faced with hate, love
will survive. The constant balance of positive and negative is something
that lives in all of us. Help us focus on the positive and not the
negative; put aside politics and focus on the people; give strength and
hope to those that remain.
Submissions:
– All stories should all have hope and love as the focus of the story;
stories should be GLBT pairings
– Should be a minimum of 5k, maximum of 10k – stories will be combined into a one
volume anthology
– Any subgenre is welcome and all prohibitive guidelines are observed
– Submissions should be sent to special_submissions@mlrpress.com
SUBMISSION DEADLINE:
June 25, 2016, anthology will release July 22, 2016
All proceeds will be donated to Equality Florida’s fund for the victims
and families of the Pulse Shooting
Any questions can be sent to Kris Jacen at KrisJacen@mlrpress.com
Filed under: LGBT, Submissions Call | Tagged: delilah night, Hope for Pulse, submission call | Leave a comment »
Here are the top 5 questions I get about Singapore in no particular order
1-What language do they speak?
Short answer–English
Longer answer–There are four official languages—English, Mandarin, Malay, and Tamil, but English is the language of government and it the primary language taught in the schools.
Singapore was a British colony for hundreds of years. It only became an independent country after World War II. The elites classes all spoke English, and the first Prime Minister and Father of the Country, Lee Kuan Yew was educated at the London School of Economics and studied law at the University of Cambridge. He didn’t speak Mandarin until his adulthood. His son, the current Prime Minister, went to University of Cambridge and Harvard.
That said, Singaporeans speak English with a distinct accent. There is also a local patois called Singlish.
The only Singlish I use is can/cannot because it is efficient. As for the rest, white people sound like asses when we try to use it and inevitably fuck it up. That said, my older daughter, who has lived here her whole life and goes to local schools, is fully fluent in Singlish. However, she code-switches–with her friends and at school she sounds like a true-blue Singaporean, but at home her accent lightens dramatically and she sounds American. This is totally unconscious on her part, and fascinating to watch in action.
2-Is chewing gum really banned?
Short answer—yes
Longer answer–it’s banned for sale, but you can bring it in for personal use, you can get the stop-smoking gum by prescription, and my dentist office will sell you some kind of gum. We generally bring back gum when we go on vacation to the US.
So here’s the true story of why gum is banned in Singapore.
The trains here have sensors that tell them if anything is blocking the doors. They won’t close the doors/run the trains until whatever is blocking them is moved. The government is really into the trains running on time. People kept sticking gum on the doors and it messed with the sensors so the trains weren’t running on time so the government banned gum.
3-Do they cane people?
Yes, they do. The picture above is from my daughter’s school handbook. You’ll notice that Caning is the 8th level of punishment. However, caning is reserved for boys/men only.
Caning children as a disciplinary technique is very common, and very controversial. Within my local friends, there’s a mixture of caners and not. Some of my friends were caned and think it was fine, others think it was awful. It seems pretty analagous to the spanking debate in the US. It’s frightening how normal it seems after being immersed in the culture for six years. I’m told at the secondary school level, the caning is carried out during an assembly in front of the entire school.
Caning is also used as a government punishment. That cane, though,can strip away skin and cause bleeding. This is no joke.
4–Where in China is Singapore?
It’s not. Singapore is a country at the extreme southern tip of Continental Asia. While many Singaporeans have Chinese heritage, it is not, nor has it ever been part of China.
5—Now it’s your turn. What questions do you want to ask me about Singapore?
Filed under: Life Lessons | Tagged: delilah night, singapore | Leave a comment »
This week Marie’s Wicked Wednesday promp is In the (erotic) blogging community people frequently hide their real identities. This week we want to hear your thoughts on this…
When I first began writing erotica, I was a public school teacher. Teachers are a profession where a career as an erotica author has the potential to create a lot of moral panic and outrage. I was literally scared of losing my job because someone discovered I’d written smut about wanting to fuck Wesley Crusher. I needed plausible deniability.
Today, the truth is that it’s not that hard to ferret out my real identity. I write an expat blog where I have promoted Capturing the Moment. Can you figure out my irl name? Yes, with minimal effort. I’m not a teacher anymore, so I’m not worried about getting fired. However, I find it useful to write non-fiction under my legal name while using Delilah Night for fiction.
(This post is super short because I’m still newly out of the hospital and high on painkillers–I find it really hard to focus.)
Filed under: Wicked Wednesday, Writing | Tagged: delilah night, Wicked Wednesday | 4 Comments »
Because I was too sick to attend PinkDot 2016, my daughters bought me a stuffed Pink Dot to keep me company in my hospital room. (Until they got into a fight over it and somehow took it home with them so they could take turns sleeping with it).
I suggested they name it for me.
Everyone–this is Pinky Elizabeth Buster.
**apologies if yesterday’s post was garbled. I originally was just going to leave that post on fb, but when the shooting occurred, I felt like I should share them here as well. Unfortunately, I’m so blur (to use the Singlish) that I’m just not capable of making sense about much of anything right now.***
Filed under: LGBT | Tagged: delilah night, Pink Dot | Leave a comment »
A few days ago, I posted the following on my Delilah Night Facebook page
If you follow me, you know I live in Singapore. Singapore is a very complex country often reduced to caning or banning chewing gum in the media.
We are also a country with anti-sodomy laws on the books (377a), where progresses in the quest for equality for the LGBTQA community is stymied at every turn by “traditional /Asian values”(while being advised by American advocacy group Focus on the Family and American based /American style Christian Fundamentalist Churches). Singapore is a country where coming out often means being estranged from your family, and thus many choose to stay closeted.
Singapore had one park –one —where you can “protest.” Assuming your event gets the proper permits. In 2008, an event called Pink Dot was launched with around 2,000 citizens and permanent residents forming a pink dot to physically demonstrate that there are people in Singapore who support the right to love. In 2015, over 29,000 individuals participated. 2015 also marked the beginning of the counter movement “Wear White” to support “traditional Asian values”–jointly organized between a cleric and the fundamentalist Christian preacher who eventually took all the media attention. This year they didn’t release numbers, but there was a lot of backlash against foreign companies co-sponsored the event, such as Goldman Sachs and Google, despite those companies having local headquarters. I’m told there was a lot of minor hassling —this square meter isn’t technically part of the park so you can’t stand here, etc. So despite this one event, a stationary event in a small park, there are many who use the rhetoric of “forcing values down our throats.”
Enter a production of Les Misérables, on tour from Australia.
I happened to see the “kiss” that caused this kerfuffle, which playwright Alfian Sa’at breaks down FAR better than I do. I can tell you that the audience physically flinched and audible gasped. It was if the weight of their horrified shock pushed everyone in the theater back against their seat.
What do people do? Call the police. Call the Media Development Association, the board that allows or bans movies (or “edits” them). Post on hate groups like “WeAreAgainstPinkDot.”
What is the outcome? The MDA claims the kiss was not in their script and was not approved, and therefore must be removed.
I found a great deal objectionable about the production as a superfan of Les Mis. The staging choices, the over-reliance on projected video backgrounds, the lack of the rotating stage, and some truly miscast actors. It was a mediocre performance.
The kiss was not the objectionable part, and I say that as someone who was accompanied by her seven year old.
The playwright I referred to is Singaporean Alfian Sa’at.
Here is the text of his FB post
In a Straits Times report, it was mentioned that MDA removed a a ‘same-sex kissing scene’ from the musical Les Miserables because of complaints from ‘members of the public’.The report stated that “Facebook user Alvin Ng posted in a Facebook group that he wrote to MDA to complain about the scene”. It failed to mention that the group was ‘We Are Against Pink Dot in Singapore’. The poster, Alvin Ng, has removed his posts from the group. But why be scared of media attention if you believe in standing up for whatever you think you stand for?
Anyway, the operative term is ‘same-sex kissing’, not ‘gay kissing’. I know some LGBT people were upset when the news first broke, wondering whether it’s another instance of the MDA erasing any representation of queer people from the media—and thus rendering them invisible. But let’s put the kissing scene into context. Deep breath…
Hi Alvin Ng! (And friends.) You watched ‘Les Miserables’ the musical. Good on you! A musical, as you’d already realised, is not a 30-track CD that’s performed live by people in nice costumes moving around on stage. Usually a musical has a story, and a story has characters. And one of the characters in ‘Les Miserables’ is Monsieur Thénardier. In the musical, he is a comic secondary antagonist…
You know, what, never mind. Thénardier is a Very Bad Man. Of course the musical is a lot more complex than that, and part of what makes Victor Hugo’s novel a great work of literature is that there is moral ambiguity: Jean Valjean the convict and Fantine the prostitute are Good People, while Javert the policeman is a Bad Man. But that’s confusing! So back to Thénardier: he swindles customers at his inn, beats his servant Cosette and has Very Bad Manners.
At the end of the musical, Thénardier crashes the wedding of Cosette and Marius. He sings the song ‘Beggars at the Feast’, where he shows himself to be an unrepentant boor. He starts insulting the weddings guests:
Ain’t it a laugh?
Ain’t it a treat?
Hob-nobbin’ here
Among the elite?
Here comes a prince
There goes a Jew.
This one’s a queer
But what can you do?And then he gives the guy who he claims is ‘queer’ a peck on the lips. Now Alvin, let’s just think about this kiss for a while. Not all lip-kissing is romantic, or erotic. In some cultures same-sex people even peck lips as a form of greeting. Drunken straight fratboys may do it as a stunt, often followed by sexuality-affirming gross-outs. Bullies do it too, because they think the ones they kiss will feel humiliated.
And Thénardier, being a Very Bad Man, is such a bully. The kiss he planted on the guest is not a mutual kiss. And a non-mutual kiss is assault. Come on, Alvin, the character is married to Madame Thénardier and they have a daughter! Were you even paying attention? But because you’ve been so inflamed by the daily moral panics at the WAAPD page, you have to take a same-sex kiss from a musical completely out of context and flag it as some kind of insidious homosexual propaganda.
You might think that canceling the kiss represents some kind of victory over LGBT’s and liberals, but honestly Alvin, it is nothing more than a triumph of ignorance and hysteria over common sense and sober reflection. And with the MDA being dragged in, wearing a T-shirt saying ‘I’m With Stupid’, it is also a triumph of bureaucracy over literature.
There is a line to be drawn between wanting to tell the world that Singaporeans are conservative and wanting to brag about what backwater philistines we are. Unfortunately you’ve crossed that line to the latter. Thénardier, recognising a kindred spirit, would have been so proud of you that he would have given you a kiss.
Filed under: LGBT | Tagged: Alfian Sa'at, delilah night, Les Mis, LGBT, Orlando, singapore | Leave a comment »
Hi all
Thank you for the many well-wishes during my ten-day hospital stay following my back surgery. I won’t really know if it actually worked for four to six weeks, during which I am wearing a support garment around my middle, and walking with a cane. Sexy. Super Super Sexy. Don’t all Agaproposition me at once.
I am still on a number of narcotic painkillers and other medication which make me muddled and sleepy. I’m having a hard time concentrating enough to write this post (and for all that I know, it may come out garbled). Please be patient with me, and I’ll make my return to blogging sometime this week.
In my (short) periods of lucidity, I read through my first draft of Plunder and added comments. Given how drugged I was (am) I didn’t trust myself to actually try to edit the novel, but I think I do at least have a sense of what needs to be done to improve it.
Again, thank you for all your support during a difficult period.
much love
Delilah
Filed under: Disability, Medical | Tagged: delilah night | Leave a comment »
Greetings from a hospital in Singapore. This is my sixth or seventh time here in three years. With one exception, every hospitalization has been because of my bad-and-getting-worse-low-back.
Without getting into medical terminology, I first hurt my back when I was sixteen and because it wasn’t really properly cared for then (we didn’t have health insurance) it didn’t heal properly. Over the years it became progressively worse.
Ten years ago this October I had surgery on a herniated disc that was compressing the sciatic nerve root (which runs from your back down your leg into your toes) to the point where the nerve hurt so much I literally could not walk.
Three years ago this past March, I was putting my second daughter (who was just over a year old at the time) into her stroller from the car seat and the disc above the one from ’06 tore.
In the past three years I’ve gotten so many MRI’s I’ve lost count. I was excited that on my last two visits the hospital I go to can pipe music into the headphones they have you wear while getting the MRI from Spotify, so you can request your music. I can sleep during an MRI, but this last time I quietly sang along to Hamilton in my head for the hour or so it took to do my full spine.
We know that my back is a disaster as is my sciatic nerve, but we don’t know the full story. Scar tissue isn’t visible on any imaging system, and can compress nerves and create persistent pain with no easily diagnosed cause.
Six days ago I had eight injections at various levels of my spine to deal with four disc herniations (two in my back, two in my neck) and three surgeries (two for my low back discs and one to deaden the sciatic nerve).
Were any of these the right call? I have no idea.
I’ve been living in chronic pain for the past three years, but the past six months have been the worst. A “good day” became one where I had enough energy to drive to my daughter’s schools and pick them up. My daughters even know to avoid the right side of my body as even a casual hug at the wrong moment can lead to severe pain.
In doing one of the surgeries, my doctor confirmed that there is a lot of scar tissue, because he could barely force the needle into the disc to perform the nucleoplasty. (In layman’s terms, they burn out the center of the disc and the idea is that the disc will shrink back down).
I carry a lot of guilt that I’m not the mom I wish my kids had. I can’t get on the floor and play with them. I can’t run around outside. If I’m lucky I’ll be able to swim with them again (which given that we live near the equator is a year-round activity). My days of roller coasters and waterslides are behind me.
Six days into my hospital stay I’m asking myself if I made the right choice, but honestly–sometimes there is no such thing as a good choice.
Filed under: Disability, Medical, Wicked Wednesday | Tagged: delilah night, Wicked Wednesday | 12 Comments »
Hi all! I’m still recuperating from surgery last week. Today Willa Edwards is taking over the blog to talk about a heroine she never expected to write. Stick around to enter her giveaway!
I’ll be the first to admit I usually write heroines similar to myself. I have always said I don’t usually feel like a writer but more the first reader of all my stories. And I like to read stories about women I can relate to. I assume most of my readers do as well (if I’m wrong, feel free to correct me).
Now these characters aren’t all exactly the same. They have different likes and dislikes. Different focuses and fantasies. But in the end they are all loyal, caring, and passionate. All the traits I esteem, and hope I have.
So when a heroine stared knocking on my mind who was selfish, out for herself, immoral and somewhat destructive. I thought, I can’t write a story about her. Who would want to read about someone so dreadful? Those are the characteristics that make a villain, not a heroine. And in true McKenna fashion, the more I ignored her the more she demanded to tell her story. (I did say she was selfish!) Until finally I had no choice but to do what she said.
But as I wrote her story, she slowly started to show me her sensitive, vulnerable side, and exactly how she became the person she is. I came to realize through the course of the story that though she may not be the typical heroine, that might make her the character I’ve written who is most in need of love. Because it isn’t just the loyal, passionate heroines that need love or even deserve it. We all do. Even the selfish, out for themselves, demanding heroines. Love has the ability to make us all the best versions of ourselves. Especially them.
McKenna story, Sensual Sabotage, is now available with Siren publishing. Though McKenna might not be your typical heroine, I hope you will all give her a shot to take up a place in your heart, the same way she has for me.
McKenna James came to work for Hamilton and Brewer Associates with only one thing on her mind. And it isn’t a long lasting career. She’s after a copy of their plans for a waste-less oil refinery that a rival company will pay her six figures to take. But, when Sawyer and Chris catch her in the act, she learns a lot more about her bosses as they handcuff her to a chair and torture the truth out of her.
When Sawyer Hamilton and Chris Brewer stumble upon their receptionist trying to fleece their newest designs, the dominant in both of them comes raging to the surface. They intend to protect what is theirs. No matter what. But when their interrogation turns sexy, they are both in danger of losing more than just their plans. Luckily they both have experience with bound women who have smart mouths.
Can two nerdy doms tame a thief bent on stealing from them? Or will the harlot take their hearts along with their plans?
Excerpt
She grabbed her purse from behind her desk and headed down the hall, toward Sawyer’s and Chris’s offices. It didn’t matter which she entered. They both had what she needed. Access to the secure server.
Stepping to the first door, Chris’s office, she tried the handle. Locked. Not a huge surprise but still inconvenient. She pulled her tools from her purse, selecting the tension wrench from the set and pushing it into the lock. Holding the metal in place, she used the pick to release each of the pins. She closed her eyes, allowing her muscle memory to do all the work. She’d been picking locks since she’d run away from home—if that was what you wanted to call it—and needed a warm place to sleep for the night. This paltry lock was nothing compared to what she’d come in contact with over the years.
Not for the first time, she wondered how there could be something valuable in this office. This building was nothing like the usual places she was hired to break into. No marble tiles, expensive leather furniture, or high-end computers filled out the rooms. Instead, the place reminded her of a down-on-his-luck seventies PI she’d seen on TV as a kid. The carpets were old, covered in stains, and a color that could only be described as faded mold.
Not that it really mattered to her. She didn’t care what she stole or why. All she cared about was retrieving what she was hired to find and collecting her payment. Asking questions about her clients or their motivations for employing her services only got her into trouble.
She stirred up enough of that already. She didn’t need more.
Walking across the room, she rounded the desk. Her instructions were clear, as was the bounty requested. And there was only one place to get it.
She knocked the mouse and the monitor came to life, prompting her for a password. While she’d been offered a lot of trust in the last week she’d worked here, they hadn’t gone so far as to give her all the company passwords. She searched the desktop, looking for any sign of what word to guess. Between the intricate computer system in front of her and the owner’s age, she doubted it was password.
A small, neon pink Post-it hung from the edge of the computer. Vet appointment Thursday 1:30. Chris must have a pet. She looked over at the picture on his desk of a big yellow lab eagerly licking the face of a little girl with big, dark brown eyes the same shade as Chris’s. Her small, chubby arms gripped around the dog’s neck.
McKenna stared at the scene, almost with longing. She could almost hear the little girl’s laughter as she played with the sweet, energetic canine. The Bay Park Bridge filled up the back of the frame. The park was a popular spot to have birthday parties and family events. The perfect place for a dog and little girl to have the best day of their lives.
It was a reality McKenna had never known. A happy, loving family. Picnics filled with lemonade and laughter. Her childhood parties were comprised of swears and thrown beer bottles, if she got a party at all.
Not that she cared about any of that stuff. She’d grown up just fine without it. Now she took care of herself. It had all worked out.
The picture frame was covered with dog bones and, at the bottom, engraved with the word Hugo. Chris loved that dog, probably more than any human. A lightbulb flashed in her mind. He did love that dog. So much that he probably used his dog’s name as a password. It was worth a shot.
She leaned over the keyboard, hunting out each letter. Too short for any logical password, she added the year at the end. Holding her breath, she hit enter and waited for the rejection. The screen flashed for a second then dissolved to the desktop. Another picture of the same dog, this time rolling on his back, looked back at her from the backdrop on the screen.
Wow! That was easy. Too easy. Clearly Chris and Sawyer had no idea how much they needed a good security system. Or how many people wanted what they had. Lucky for her. This might be the easiest job she’d been offered in a while.
Buy it here
Leave a comment to win a book off Willa’s backlist! I’ll pass on the email address of the winner once she selects them.
Filed under: Guest Post | Tagged: delilah night, Guest Post, Sensual Sabotage, Willa Edwards | Leave a comment »
I’m so honored to host Tamsin Flowers today! Tamsin is a dear friend and one of the most talented erotica authors out there. If you’re not familiar with her work, you should be! I had the privilege of beta-reading her BDSM-themed serial Alchemy XII. We have also shared paged in several anthologies, including Summer Loving. When I asked her if she wanted to guest post while I was in the hospital, I was so excited when she offered me a previously unpublished story!!
Speechless
Tamsin Flowers
His mother had christened him Bartholomew, his friends called him Barty, but Leonard had called him Batman from the very first day they met. And that was so many years ago now that neither of them could remember why. It might have started as ‘Bart, man’, but now it was Batman and it didn’t really matter why. That’s just how it was.
Barty lay in bed, pretending he was still asleep. He could sense Leonard fidgeting next to him and then he felt mattress shift as Leonard got out of bed. Bare feet on the wooden floor boards, crossing towards the window.
“Hey, would you look at that? The Petersens have got a new car.”
Barty pulled the covers up to shield his ear.
“I don’t know what they were thinking, with that color. It’s yellow, Batman, bright yellow. What were they thinking? It’s really not a good color when you need to resell a car. Is it? Would you ever by a yellow car? Geez, I don’t think that guy’s too bright. A yellow car.”
Even with his eyes shut Barty could see Leonard shaking his head.
“But it’s a nice day. Haven’t seen the sun like that all week. We should go out somewhere, maybe. Do something. But you know what I’d like first, Batman? I’d like you to screw me six ways to Sunday and then all the way back again. You know, fuck me proper, just how I like it. Just how you like it. What d’you say, Batman? Are you awake? Are you even awake yet?”
Barty raised a hand from beneath the quilt in quiet surrender.
“Okay, okay. I know it—you need coffee. A nice big coffee to get your motor running. Say, what did you think of those new beans I got? The first cup, I thought was good…”
Barty’s cock hardened under the covers. He didn’t need coffee to fuck Leonard. But he sure as hell would like one.
“…but the second tasted a little bitter to me. What did you think? Did you even have two cups?”
“Coffee,” said Barty.
“Coffee, right, I’ll go make some. Coming right up, coming right up.”
Barty could still hear Leonard talking in the kitchen even if he couldn’t make out what he was saying. Leonard came back with a tray holding two mugs.
“Here we go, coffee for the sleepy head. Did you just go back to sleep, Batman? Are you awake now?”
Barty sat up in bed with a groan. He reached across and opened the drawer of his bedside cabinet.
“What are you after, Batman? I’ll get it. Here, let me.”
Leonard came round to Barty’s side of the bed and put one of the mugs of coffee down on the cabinet.
“What have you got there?” he said, as Barty found what he wanted and pulled it out of the drawer.
He held up a ball gag.
Leonard’s eyebrows shot up.
“No, no, no. Not that, please, not the gag. Not today, Barty.” He only ever used ‘Barty’ when he was afraid. “Come on, it’s a nice day. We could have a nice fuck. You don’t need to gag me. I promise I’ll be quiet. Really. I will. Just don’t use the gag, hey?”
Leonard wasn’t scared of what Barty was going to do to him. He was just terrified at the prospect of not being able to articulate every single fucking thought that went through his mind.
“Leonard,” said Barty.
It was all he had to say. Leonard submitted himself to Barty’s possession and two minutes later he was spread-eagled on the bed, cuffed at the wrists, with the ball gag snugly in his mouth. Barty stood at the end of the bed looking down at him. Leonard was naked but Barty still wore his pajama pants and his cock tented out against the thin, striped cotton. He slipped his hand under the waistband and stroked himself, watching as Leonard’s eyes widened.
“You’re quiet,” said Barty.
Leonard grunted at the back of his throat and frowned. Barty laughed and discarded his trousers. He knelt on the bed, between Leonard’s legs. Leonard’s cock danced in front of him, but Barty didn’t reach out for it.
“Ah,” he said slowly. “There’s something I wanted to say and now I’ve got the chance.”
But he stopped talking and picked up a tube of lube from the cabinet. He tenderly spread Leonard’s legs and bent them up at the knee, and then applied a generous slick of lube to his ass crack. Barty’s hands were strong and sensitive from years as a sculptor—he worked and molded Leonard’s ass cheeks until the other man moaned with pleasure behind the gag. One finger, then two, prepared the way for him and then he pushed his dick hard into Leonard’s sweet, tight little ass. And no matter how many times he did it, it always felt the same. Always felt so good, like coming home. He pulled back and then rammed it home again. Leonard’s hips jumped and he pulled at the cuffs that secured him to the bed frame.
Barty glanced down at Leonard’s cock, dripping pre-cum across his stomach as it bucked which each one of Barty’s thrusts. That he loved. Watching Leonard come, watching his white spunk spurting across his soft belly.
But it would have to wait. He was on a mission today.
“Yeah, that thing,” he said, stopping with his cock deep inside Leonard.
Leonard moaned and shook his head. He hated being talked at when he couldn’t reply. Barty stroked his leg in consolation.
“Len?”
Leonard shook his head frantically.
“We’ve been together quite a time. It’s been a few years.” He paused and looked up at the ceiling, then over at the window. He looked back down at Leonard. “Would you marry me?”
In front of him on the bed, there was an explosion of emotion. Leonard couldn’t speak so he did everything but. He spluttered out bubbles at the edge of the ball gag, as muffled squeals died in the back of his throat. His arms thrashed against their restraints and his legs flapped about like fish out of water.
“Huh? You wanna say something?” said Barty. He resumed fucking him, slowly, easily, gliding in and out. “It can wait. Can’t you see I’m kind of busy.”
But he eventually took pity on Leonard and grabbed his cock. He worked his hand up and down it in the same rhythm, speeding up as his fucking gained pace. Harder and faster until he came with gruff moan, and seconds later Leonard came in his hand, choking against the gag and still just as frenzied.
Barty slumped forward against him, not caring that Leonard’s cum smeared his chest and gut.
“You okay, Len?” he said.
Leonard snarled as far as he was able. Barty pulled out of him and undid the gag. Leonard sat up, choking and coughing. His mouth was working but no words came out.
“Len?” said Barty.
One word.
“Speechless,” spluttered Len. His mouth moved some more but there were no other words.
So Barty fucked him six ways to Sunday, until finally Leonard found his voice again. But by that time they’d both forgotten the question.
“Yellow,” muttered Leonard. “Such a shit color for a car.”
Want more of Tamsin’s M/M stories? Check out Doing it for the Coach
Private Jimmy Jackson wants to make it onto the squad boxing team—and when he meets Coach Perry, he realises that’s not all he wants…
Private Jimmy Jackson joined the army for one reason—for the chance it would give him to box on the All Army Team and turn professional. But as a gay soldier, he sometimes needs to use his fists for other reasons, so when he arrives at his new unit at Fort Sandbridge, his main aim is to keep his head down, work hard and impress the coach. What he hadn’t bargained for was the sheer animal attraction that springs up between himself and Coach Virgil Perry the moment they meet. All Jimmy can think of is taking their momentary locker-room encounter further, and his fantasies are fuelled by dreams of what they could get up to alone together.
Luckily, Jimmy impresses Coach Perry enough with his boxing to be included in the training squad and, with his roommate and sparring partner, Moreno, he begins to prepare for the All Army Championships. A steamy off-camp incident with Coach Perry raises the stakes even higher. Perry makes it clear that if Jimmy wins his championship, he’ll make it onto the All Army Team with the opportunity of some one-on-one training. If he loses, he’ll be off the squad and his dreams of Coach Perry will be shattered.
The competition arrives and just three rounds stand between Jimmy and his dreams…
Filed under: Guest Post, LGBT | Tagged: delilah night, Guest Post, Speechless, Tamsin Flowers | 2 Comments »
delilahnight.com 