Team Players -  - ebook

Team Players ebook

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Opis

Whether he s on the field or on the court, in a pool or in a gym, watching an athlete work his well-toned body and seeing those beads of sweat glistening over his skin charges your senses and arouses your appetite. But nothing gets a heart rate up quite like a private, deliciously naughty game of one-on-one in the bedroom ... or the locker room ... or the dugout ... Sex is the ultimate contact sport. Featuring uninhibited stories from some of gay erotica s best authors, Team Players is a steamy celebration of fit, firm, and dare we say it? tight jocks who find that playing the field is even hotter than playing on the field.

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Liczba stron: 301

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CONTENTS

Introduction: Be an Athletic Supporter · Winston Gieseke

Tomato Can · Landon Dixon

In the Long Run · Simon Sheppard

Equinox · Brett Lockhard

Antonio · Mark Wildyr

The Superman · Joe Thompson

Cross Bones · Sean Grayson

Sporting Wood · Michael Bracken

Love · Rob Rosen

The Athletic Director · Jeffrey Hartinger

Supplemental · Natty Soltesz

Swords and Sex and Sealing Wax · P.A. Friday

Hockey, Eh? · T. Hitman

Two Balls, No Strikes · Kevin Robinson

The Towel Boy’s Revenge · Kit Christopher

About the Editor and Authors

About the Book

Imprint

Introduction: Be an Athletic Supporter

For some, there’s no bigger turn-on than a hot muscle-bound athlete. Whether he’s on the field or on the court, in a pool or in a gym, watching his well-toned body move and seeing those beads of sweat glistening over his skin charges your senses and arouses your appetite.

But nothing gets your heart rate up quite like a private, deliciously naughty game of one-on-one in the bedroom. Or the locker room. Or the dugout. Because sex is the ultimate contact sport. Whether you’re slamming home the easy rebound, penetrating up the middle, hitting one hard and deep, or just feeling proud of your stroke, there’s always time to head off to the sideline for a quick blow, as they say in football.

Which is a more than fitting summary of the various spornographic goings-on in this book. Featuring uninhibited stories from some of gay erotica’s best authors, Team Players is a steamy celebration of fit, firm, and—dare I say it?—tight jocks who find that playing the field is even hotter than playing on the field. From a washed-up boxer who screws his competition in more ways than one in Landon Dixon’s “Tomato Can” to the hot wrestling coach who rams it in for a quick score in Jeffrey Hartinger’s “The Athletic Director,” some of the erotogenic tales on these pages show that success and sex go hand-in-hand. In other cases, the sport merely serves as a vehicle in the pursuit of prurience: witness the foot fetishist who’s drawn to marathoners in Simon Sheppard’s “In the Long Run” or the sexy swim team that gets even wetter after practice in Sean Grayson’s “Cross Bones.”

Of course, as any challenger will tell you, competition—like sex—can often lead to deception, as is the case in P.A. Friday’s “Swords and Sex and Sealing Wax,” where a lover’s mysterious training sessions result in an unexpected victory; and Joe Thompson’s “The Superman,” in which a wannabe aerialist who thinks he’s flying a double finds himself swinging in a group act.

Those looking for romance should jump or sprint to Rob Rosen’s “Love,” a poignantly sexy tale of two pro tennis players whose first grand slam has disastrous consequences off the court; or Kit Christopher’s “The Towel Boy’s Revenge,” a remarkable story of two (or three, depending on how you look at it) people coming together in the most unlikely of circumstances; or Michael Bracken’s “Sporting Wood,” about a long-term couple who lube up their blades for a sexy lumberjack competition and still find time for some extracurricular log rolling.

But despite the athletic milieu, it’s not all about fun and games. Quite often a sweaty scrimmage can lead to enlightenment, as it does for the jock-hating student who learns a few things about being a tight end when he’s forced to tutor the high school football star in Mark Wildyr’s “Antonio” or the insurance agent specializing in lip service who joins his office softball team and discovers a whole new way of sliding into home in Kevin Robinson’s “Two Balls, No Strikes.”

Whether you’re an amateur or a pro, it’s exciting to know that some of your skill will always—ahem—rub off on your teammates. But the best part of all is that, top to bottom, everyone ends up a winner. Because no matter what sport you’re suiting up for, if you’re a true Team Player, you’ll always end up scoring.

Winston Gieseke (Berlin)

Tomato Can

Landon Dixon

There was a knock on the door. Lloyd groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, smacked the greasy pillow with a left hook. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton, his legs heavy like after a fifteen-rounder.

The knock sounded again.

“Yeah! Come in!” Lloyd yelled into the pillow.

A bellboy in a tight, wine-colored, shiny-from-wear uniform pushed the door open with a creak and walked the heaving floorboards into the room. “Your …” The kid stopped, looking at Lloyd laid out on the sagging single bed.

Lloyd was naked, the dirty sheet and cover pushed down to the foot of the bed. He was clutching the pillow, lying on his stomach, his legs bent and back curved, bare buttocks mounding up high and plush.

The bellboy licked his lips and set the jug of moonshine down on a wobbly wooden table, the only stick of furniture in the dilapidated hotel room other than an equally rickety chair and the bed. “Your, uh, ‘hair of the dog,’ Mr. Lloyd.” The bellboy rubbed his damp hands on his lean thighs, staring at Lloyd’s white, naked body, those lushly humped buttocks.

Lloyd let go of the pillow and rolled over onto his back. He smacked crusted lips and blinked bloodshot eyes, running his hands down over his broad chest. His body was slightly gone to flab, a little too soft and round in certain areas, but still fairly trim and muscular; his chest banding and stomach tightening in ribbed contours as he stretched out his well-formed arms and legs. His cock was large and languid in a nest of blond pubes, warming up like the rest of him at the sight of the jug of cheap contraband whiskey and the young man in his room.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked, working some saliva into his mouth, then licking his red lips.

“Joey,” the bellboy responded, his nervous brown eyes glued to Lloyd’s cock flopped over the man’s left thigh.

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!