Vintage Pulp and Original Gay Erotica
Excerpt:
As he knocked on the front door of that house, he started to rehearse what he would say:
“I am yours, Coach,” he muttered aloud. No, that wouldn’t do.
He had already belonged to the coach for a whole afternoon the day before.
“I want to join, Coach.” No.
Not sexy and wild enough.
“I want to suck cock for money, Coach.”
No. Too limited.
He would take it up the ass too.
As a hustler, he would be prepared to do anything that any man wanted him to do.
“I want you to sell me to men, Coach.” No.
That sounded too brutal and harsh.
“Coach, I want to be the best hustler you’ve ever had in your stable.”
Yes.
That worked just fine.
It was sexy and firm, but it showed a boyish thrill and sense of adventure too.
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