Hump Day Hook – 16 October 2013

Hump Day Hook

Greetings, all!

It’s once again time for a Hump Day Hook and some more from Seawrack! If you’re here for the first time, or would like a refresher, click here.

Self-consciously, Jesse lowered his arm and stepped across the threshold. The hall was well-appointed with pale walls and heavy, masculine wood; a hint of tobacco, dark and herbaceous, hung about. His hat and coat were relinquished, hung aside to dry.

“Mister Sherwood is expecting you. Follow me.”

The retainer escorted Jesse through the house, past spoils of travel and trophies of the chase. He conceived the owner as rich, but fearfully extravagant—saw him in a glow of high fashion, of good looks, of expensive habits and charming ways. He was led to a morning room, where warm yellow lamp light fended off the steely gray day. The remains of breakfast—a rack of pale toast and sausages congealing in grease—sat on the table, pushed to the side in favor of a newspaper.

Breakfast“The tutor, sir, Mister Masterson.”

“Thank you, Withers. That will be all for now.” The paper never moved.

Jesse stood, damp and awkward, unsure whether to speak or sit. He chose to stand, silently.

“Masterson, eh?” The paper rustled as a page was turned. “That seems a good name for a tutor.” More rustling, another page. “Are you a good tutor, Masterson?”

Jesse was distracted from the question by Sherwood’s voice. A thick, rich baritone, the sound was warm, bold and pleasant, reminding Jesse of honey and smoke. He imagined the man to be handsome and tall and dark; that type that was gallant and splendid.

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Seductive Studs – 12 October 2013

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Greetings!

Time for some Seductive Studs and a visit to The Greek Room! If you would like to catch up or have a refresher, click here.

Fluidly, James rolled them over and, sliding along Christos, took his cock in his mouth. Christos nearly spent right then and there. Months it had been since he’d had anyone to pleasure him, and—while he wasn’t adverse to masturbation—self-abuse hardly held a candle to the sensations of lips and tongues. Particularly as when as masterfully applied as James did. A wracking groan escaped him.

MmmmWet and hot, James’ mouth was seemingly all over him. First suckling his bollocks, then licking around his corona, then—most exciting—taking his full length into his throat. Rare was the Greek man who would suck cock—it was considered womanly, a sign of submission. Even rarer still had been one who could take him in his entirety.

Yet James had managed to bury his face into Christos’ crotch. He could hear the rasp of James’ breath through his nostrils, his mouth jammed with Christos’ manhood. He laid his hands on the dark hair, holding the young man in place as he penetrated his face. James’ throat pulsed, his lips and tongue massaging Christos, as he brought him closer and closer to climax.

As pleasurable as that release would be, Christos wanted intercourse. He wanted to feel the Englishman beneath him, to drive into that most intimate of regions.

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Hump Day Hook – 09 October 2013

Hump Day Hook

Greetings, everyone!

I know… long time no see! Lots of irons in the fire—edits, a mystery I’m plotting, plus the usual writer’s ADD. But it’s Hump Day… and time for some hooking!

I’m doing a little more from Seawrack today, so if you’d like to check out the first bit, click here.

Doctor Livingston had been gracious enough to provide him this reference—although Jesse suspected in his heart that the position was somehow less than desirable—yet he was grateful to have even such a thin opportunity for a new start in this damp, sodden town. Only his grandfather’s letter to Livingston, a colleague from Papa’s days in seminary, had secured him this small piece of fortune.

With a muttered prayer, he pushed aside his dark thoughts and knocked upon the great front door. The soggy morning air swallowed the small, dull sound, and Jesse wondered how anyone not immediately near the door would hear it.

Clipper_Ship_Southern_Cross_Leaving_Boston_Harbor_1851His belly rumbled. Ill with anxiety, he had broken his fast with nothing but half a biscuit and one or two sips of water. He’d not felt so sick since he had taken ship in Norfolk. Four days he’d been unable to eat, lying weak and nauseated in his cramped, smelly cabin. At least I’m not in prison.

He rapped again, fearing he might bruise his knuckles. This time the knock was answered by the sound of heels on hard wood. The door opened to reveal a tall, elegant older gentleman.

“Yes?”

Jesse swallowed with difficulty, yet thrust his hand forward. “Good day, sir! I am Jesse Masterson. I’ve come for the position—Doctor Livingston sent me.”

The man eyed the outstretched hand, one brow eloquently arched. “Ah, yes, the tutor.” He stepped back. “Come in.”

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Hump Day Hook – 18 September 2013

Hump Day Hook

Greetings, all!

We’re half way through the week, which means it’s time for a Hump Day Hook! I’m stepping away from Subeo for a bit to explore the world of Seawrack, a gothic romance work in progress.

Jesse referred again to the limp piece of foolscap, his spidery scrawl beginning to run in the damp air of a misty Boston morning. Squinting did little to clear his vision. He clasped his umbrella beneath his upper arm, all the while juggling his portmanteau in an effort to wipe the drizzle from his spectacles. Despite his hat the lenses continued to be spattered.

Not for the first time, he reconsidered his decision to come north. Compared to Williamsburg, Boston felt cramped and claustrophobic, huddled as it was on its peninsula. His years at William and Mary seemed a lifetime ago. But that life was gone. Torn away by a chance encounter.

beacon-hill-streetHunched into his coat, Jesse strode across Beacon, stepping around its muddy puddles, and made his way up the narrow lane. Joy Street belied its name, looking gray and dreary in the muted daylight, as townhouses stood shoulder to shoulder along the slope. He stopped in front of a red brick home, its edifice guarded by black wrought iron.

This was the Rubicon. Unlike Caesar, though, he had nothing to which to return. With a swipe of his kerchief, he cleaned his spectacles, squared his shoulders and went to face his Pompey.

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Seductive Studs – 14 September 2013

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 Greetings, all!

Welcome to the weekend and time for some Seductive Studs! We are returning to The Greek Room, so if you need a refresher, click here.

Evans’ native pragmatism reasserted itself; he would soldier on. That dream was not the only diversion he had.

Composed again, Evans walked to the shelves and pressed a small switch, hidden within the detailed carvings. He pulled open the section of bookcase and entered the steep, narrow staircase that descended into the depths of the manor. Upon reaching the bottom, he found another switch, flooding the space with glaring white light. Evans smiled at one of his new technological toys. He’d be damned if Lord Armstrong’s was going to be the only estate in Northumberland to have electricity.

Greek pottery

Greek pottery

Lovingly he ran his fingers across the array of items displayed throughout the room. Statuettes of ancient athletes and shunga netsuke of muscular Samurai stood alongside naked male figures from Egypt, Babylon, China, all carved of ivory and whalebone and jade. Paintings and sketches showed a variety of scenes, some from de Sade’s The 120 Days of Sodom. Framed papyri depicted every conceivable penetration of a male body by another, some singularly, others in groups. Frequently he imagined Agamemnon and himself populating those drawings. The earl’s hand strayed to his crotch and caressed a nascent erection.

Evans crossed the room to a heavy door, taking a key out of his waistcoat. From the room beyond he retrieved a large, flat envelope. London requires replenishment. He patted the envelope, recalling his pleasure at its contents. They will particularly enjoy these.

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Seductive Studs – 07 September 2013

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Greetings, all!

The weekend is here, and it’s time for some Seductive Studs! We’re returning to The Greek Room, so if you would like a refresher, click here.

Robert Evans, Earl of Corbridge, stared at the doors, long after they had closed behind Christos. He marveled that the young Greek émigré had walked out of the green fields and beech copses of Northumberland and into his home. Blond and olive-skinned, the young man was clearly his father’s son; he even had Agamemnon’s emerald eyes in that face worthy of Adonis. It was as if his dreams had been made real.

Grief welled in his breast. The thought of Agamemnon weak and ill seared him. He had always treasured the thought of returning to Greece—to Agamemnon—as a palliative against the numbing boredom of his familial duty. Heartache choked him, and he sank into nostalgia.

Spartan swordsman

Spartan swordsman

Memories of his Greek lover rose before him—images of him and Agamemnon entangled beneath the bleached-white canvas of an impromptu lean-to. The heat and lust drawing from their pores a cloud of musk and tangy man-sweat while kestrels screamed in the air above them. The hard flat plains of Agamemnon’s chest and belly heaving beneath him as he rode the Greek’s hard cock. All came back, as fresh and vibrant as if it had happened yesterday, and Robert lived in them for a while.

But now that escape was gone.

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‘Til next time!

Hump Day Hook – 04 September 2013

Hump Day Hook

Greetings, all! It’s time for some Hump Day Hooking!

I am continuing with Subeo. If you need to catch up, click here.

Liam was… for the circumstances… strangely peaceful.

That stinking, gelatinous crap must have some sedative quality.

Surprisingly, it had had no taste. On the other hand his tongue felt as if some snail were wandering about his mouth, leaving a trail behind. He really wanted some water.

How long he had waited in his cell, he didn’t know. He had been surprised at the grinding as the door opened to admit two fellows in black robes. How cliché, he’d thought and may have giggled at them. Like everyone else he’d interacted with, they weren’t open to humor.

FreeTattoDesigns.org

FreeTattoDesigns.org

They’d lifted him beneath his arms and carried him out into the dimly lit corridor. He struggled to walk—his legs seeming to have lost several degrees of function—but gave up, letting the goons drag him along. Another door opened, ringing metallically against the wall, and he was hauled into a large space, lit—appropriately, he snickered—by torches.

He sobered though when he saw the figure bound and chained in the center of the room. The naked man was Keith—he would recognize that Celtic tattoo anywhere.

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Hump Day Hook – 28 August 2013

Hump Day Hook

 Greetings, all!

I have been in absentia lately—much to my chagrin! Lots going on…

For this week it’s back to Subeo. If you need to catch up, click here.

The leather sighed as he lay down, fitting his shoulders and hips to its worn impressions. Two of the servitors—he didn’t recognize them beneath their black hoods—gripped his hands, wrapping his wrists with the sturdy hempen cord. Exchanging lengths, they secured his arms beneath the bench.

BoundHandsA calm, peaceful sensation flowed over him when the rope drew tight. Immobilized atop the heavy wooden bench, he felt free—free from doubt, free from worry, free to be—simply to exist in time. That had been the revelation of his initiation—the quiet his mind had found when he had acted and given up that anxiety and indecision.

The servitors moved to secure his legs. Cuffs suspended from chains held them aloft, revealing him, opening him to the ritual. A flicker of concern passed through him.

Had Liam made the right choice? Would he brave new knowledge, or would he settle for soft security?

A door clanged. Keith glimpsed a mop of golden curls as a mask shuttered his vision.

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Seductive Studs – 24 August 2013

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Greetings, everyone!

Time for some Studs! It’s back to The Greek Room, so if you need to catch up, click here.

Christos paused to admire the lanky servant, whose fine black hair dusted smooth planes of wiry muscle, before crawling across the bed and molding his body along James’. Retaking James’ lips, his tongue coaxed its way between James’ teeth and the Englishman’s teased back. While their mouths sparred, hands glided, stroking and touching, and hips bucked with dueling cocks.

Yes_they_are__by_DravenSeb

Yes_they_are | DravenSeb | deviantart.com

“You are quite thrilling—attractive as well.”

James pulled away to look up at him. “Chris! You gotta not sound so posh.”

“What do you mean?” Christos’ brows drew together.

James rolled his eyes. “’What do you mean?’” he mimicked Christos’ rounded tones. “You sound like some toff!”

“What is a ‘toff’?” He stroked a lock of hair off James’ brow.

“A toff is an upper class fancy pants.” James nipped at his hand, catching his index finger between sharp teeth, and sucked on its tip.

Christos trailed the spit-slicked finger over James’ chest. “You sounded… posh… when you answered the door.” He circled a hairy nipple, and the little nub pushed against his hand.

James’ hands coasted over his back, leaving cool fire in their wake. “That’s jus’ for appearances!”

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Hump Day Hook – 21 August 2013

Hump Day Hook

Greetings, all!

It’s been kinda crazy lately, but I thought that I’d drop in and hump a little today! We’re rejoining Subeo, so if you need to catch up or have a refresher, click here.

Keith fingered the thin copper chain that encircled his waist.

His initial anxiety had calmed somewhat—his heart wasn’t beating in his throat anymore, although it still raced, railing against his chest. He’d managed to speak to Liam for a moment. Whether he would pay attention or not remained to be seen.

Can’t really blame him if he doesn’t trust me.

When the Praecept had told him of Liam’s nomination, Keith had been thrilled. It was becoming more and more difficult to hide his attraction to the lively sophomore. Liam did nothing to disguise his own interest in Keith, who was firmly against any sort of fraternization with undergrads—particularly hot, young blondes who sat in the front row of his Clinical Psychology section.

beautiful-ropes

But to have Liam as an initiate was another matter…

Keith inhaled deeply, attempting to calm his riotous thoughts. He’d drawn the saxum—the white disc that placed him at the center of tonight’s ritual—so his quietude was essential. With another centering breath, he doffed his robe and shivered slightly as the cool air coasted across his skin. He took his place on the bench, lay back, and gave himself to the embrace of the rope.

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‘Til next time!