Unfortunate Son

Read Unfortunate Son Online

Authors: Shae Connor

By
S
HAE
C
ONNOR

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Playing Ball (Multiple Author Anthology)

Sand & Water

Sharing Christmas

Unfortunate Son

Published by
D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Unfortunate Son

© 2015 Shae Connor.

Cover Photography

© 2015 www.feedyoureyes.net.

Cover Model

© 2015 Travis Irons.

Twitter: @Travis_Irons

Cover Design

© 2015 Paul Richmond.

http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-63216-530-5

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63216-531-2

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014951983

First Edition January 2015

Printed in the United States of America

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

Author’s Note

 

First and foremost, I owe a deep debt of gratitude to Travis Irons, who allowed me to both pick his brain and use his body to develop the basis for Trevor Hardball—and for Evan Day. His willingness to open the doors to his life and his work made this book possible, but more important, his friendship makes my life richer.

Although I did use Travis’s physical appearance and some of his personal experiences to help construct the framework of this story, I want to be very clear that the events and people described here are fictional. This is not a biographical work. As the disclaimer on the copyright page says, any specific resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.

Thanks also to Cody, Teresa, Perry, Joey, Bryan, Devon, Kat, my “long-suffering sister,” and all the others whose insight and support contributed to this story. Particularly special thanks to my crack editing team for keeping me in line: D. M. Grace, Tia Fielding, CJane Elliott, Charley Descoteaux, and J. P. Barnaby.

Finally, a tip of the glittery hat to the legendary Armorettes, the Infamous Camp Drag Queens of the South, whose work inspired the drag troupe in this story. The Armorettes’ fun and fabulous shows go so much deeper than entertainment: since they first got started in Atlanta thirty-five years ago, they’ve raised over $2 million for HIV/AIDS support services. Find out more about the Armorettes, including information on performances and how to donate, at armorettes.com.

For my friend Derek

 

 

Chapter 1

 

“Y
EAH
,
TAKE
it… fuck yeah… you know you want it….”

Trevor moaned and opened his mouth wider, his lips stretched to their limit around the thick dick between them. A big hand gripped the back of Trevor’s head hard, holding him in perfect position to have his face fucked. A string of words Trevor mostly ignored fell from the other man’s mouth. Trevor just relaxed his mouth and throat and let himself be used.

Behind him, another set of hands held Trevor’s hips just as hard while another hard dick thrust into his ass, filling Trevor’s hole just to the brink of pain without pushing him too far. Spit-roasted between two sweat-soaked, muscular bodies, Trevor let his mind turn over control to his body and his instincts, and lost himself in sensation.

“Shit, man.”

The fucking from behind stopped, and Trevor was jerked out of the fantasy he’d been building for himself. “Damn condom’s slipping again.” Jackson, the guy who had his cock in Trevor’s ass, yanked out with no warning, making Trevor wince. He turned his head in time to see Jackson stripping off the latex. “You got another kind or something?”

Mick, the face-fucker, laughed and stepped to the side, his still hard cock bouncing wetly in the cool air as he smirked at Jackson. “You got some extra-smalls for Jack-off here, boys?”

“Fuck you.” Jackson’s voice was mild, not angry, and Trevor was glad for that. He hated being on set with guys who went off on testosterone-fueled rants, especially for no real reason. It wasn’t like condom troubles were any kind of rarity in porn.

“Since we’re stopped anyway, let’s reset, guys.” That instruction came from the director, Brent, another model who was in the process of making the switch to the other side of the camera. “Mick, let’s get a cumshot from you. Hit Trevor in the face, and watch the eyes this time, okay? Trevor, you good?”

Trevor nodded, rocking his head from side to side and giving his mouth a few stretches. Trevor was always good, always ready for another round, another shot, another angle. Whatever it took to get the job done and get another paycheck in the bank.

Kneeling on the end of the mattress, waiting for the crew to finish adjusting things around him, Trevor breathed in the smells of sweaty men and raw sex.
Jesus
. Whatever else went on in his life, he’d never get sick of that scent. Just a whiff was enough to get his dick hard. A room full of it, like this one, could almost get him off with nothing else.

“Okay, ready.” Mick nodded at Brent’s words and moved in closer, stroking his cock just inches from Trevor’s face. Trevor balanced himself with his hands on his thighs, mouth open slightly to catch a blast or two once Mick let it fly. If sex was his favorite smell, cum was his favorite taste.

While cameras recorded from several angles, Mick jerked himself hard and fast, moaning and cursing, his free hand planted on his flank, out of the way of the shot. Trevor watched Mick’s face closely, five years’ experience and a number of previous shoots with Mick having taught him the signs of impending orgasm. He closed his eyes just seconds before the first wet streams hit his face, one and then another right into his mouth, and he hummed and swallowed before licking around his lips to capture even more of that flavor. Unlike some of Trevor’s scene partners, Mick always tasted clean and a little sweet, never funky or bitter. Trevor knew he should savor it while he had a chance.

Mick rubbed his cock over Trevor’s face, picking up more of his cum and bringing it to Trevor’s mouth for him to lick off. Trevor followed Mick’s lead, not that he minded at all, and it was another minute or two before Mick took a step back. “Good?” he asked, the question directed to Brent.

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