PR-303 Snowbound in Sodom
Snowbound in Sodom
Pleasure Reader
PR-303
W W Wayne
$1.95
Foreword
When a single misstep means death, there is no time or place for cowards. In the wild, torturous Alaskan high country, Joey Harper discovered he wasn’t the man he had always thought himself to be.
Had homosexuality sapped his manhood? Dr. Eustace Chesser, in Unmarried Love, said “…there is no evidence to show that a man who commits adultery, or a homosexual, is more likely to be a liar, a thief, or a traitor than anyone else. There is abundant evidence to the contrary.” Amid howling winds and avalanches, threatened by nature at her fiercest, Joey discovered a new way to live and overcame the black stigma that had taken root in his own mind. In male love he found his real manhood and his greatest depths.
* * *
MEAT HUNGRY, Joe thought to himself… When four cockhounds are trapped on a mountainside for four months, something’s bound to give. It had ceased to be a case of WHO, though, it was now a case of HOW SOON! When a man’s real hungry, he doesn’t look to see whether he’s eating a cow or a bull—it’s all meat, after all.
And no one knew that better than Joey…
After all, he’d been struggling in that sleeping bag with Big Jim Cole long enough…
PROLOGUE
Joey knew they were squabbling over his naked body. Humbled on his knees, he looked into a forest of naked legs and jutting cocks. Over his head, terrible insults passed man to man. But the bourbon warmed his belly and freed his mind, and now the thought of naked male bodies and brute appetites only spurred his hunger. His guts grew knots and his mouth watered as the first man took his place in line.
Joey watched, trembling, as Jim Cote swaggered a step closer. He planted his feet firmly apart, hung his hands insolently on his hip bones and thrust his groin forward. It was a crude ruttish stance and they both knew it. They both knew also that Joey Harper could no longer resist a hard cock. It was waving a bone before a hungry dog. Joey felt an unconscionable desire to fasten himself to the man’s dong, to sink his teeth into the sweet hard flesh and shake his head and growl. The penis came closer, closer. It wavered before his mouth. Joe’s tongue felt thick and clumsy. He was breathing hard. Then the strong hands came to his rescue. They held his dizzy head still and led him to the trough to eat.
Rich raw meat.
Joey rubbed it against his cheek. He licked its crown and inhaled the heated scent of rut. A man could get drunk on cock. Wonderful crazy drunk. Joey buried his fingers in the man’s lean hips and drew him forward. His lips searched each small inch of flesh and washed the wiry curls and licked the hairy sac of balls. He took the throbbing organ into his mouth, deeper, deeper until he gagged.
His head reeling, Joey seemed surrounded by an army of cocks, each jabbing at his face. He felt his head pulled first one way and then the other, his face grew wet with their demands. He massaged each bag of balls in turn, squeezing them through his fingers like grapes for Nero’s mouth. He wore each penis raw with sandpaper stokes of a tireless tongue. Then without warning, hands forced him to the floor. Fingers probed between his legs and tortured his unrelieved cock. Joey let his knees move apart until he crouched, butt up, between spraddled legs. Hands clutched at his cheeks and pried them painfully apart. A wet-nosed penis demanded entrance. It hurt. He wanted it to hurt. There was no pleasure without pain. He took the searing thrusts of the heat-dried cock Then, somehow, Joey found his hands pinned to his sides. A wet penis trailed across his belly, through the hair on his chest and fumbled against his lips. Joey braced himself and waited white the huge organ, dangling heavily beneath the hairy belly, lined itself up squarely over his face and towered away. His face wet with the sweat of other’s loins, his cheeks cum-greased to a shine, Joey was too tired to move… until he felt the first spring of semen bubbling free, thick and warm and salty-sweet. And he swallowed, again and again, for Joey Harper could drink a dozen men dry and lick his lips for more.
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