We enjoy giving things that we love away for free. This way, the largest amount of readers possible have the opportunity to love that something as much as we do. In this instance: Benji Bright’s Boy Stories: 15 Quick and Dirty Gay Tales. This weekend, starting on Friday, March 27, and going until the very last seconds of Sunday, March 29, you can download Benji’s outrageously fun and steam-burn steamy collection for free from Amazon.
Really, could things get better? Well, yes. Below, we’ve included a sample of Mr. Bright’s remarkable erotic talents. “Ceci N’est Pas Un Western” originally appeared in Dirty Little Numbers, and it was the story that pretty much sparked our love affair with Ben’s short-form litporn. We hope you enjoy.
In other Benji Bright news: we recommend you support the young chap in all of his erotic writing endeavors. For example, his interactive game building. Since he’s gifting the world with free digital copies of his truly astounding erotic fiction, you can gift him back by making a donation as small as $1 or as large as $350 (he’s worth it). This will go toward all the equipment necessary to create art that Ben’s famous for: hiring of artists, new software, new computer, etc., etc. Interested in helping out? Great. Just click here. The process is painless.
In the meantime, giddy-up, cowboys.
Ceci N’est Pas Un Western
It occurred to Chip Peters that he had no fucking idea where his gun was, and Deuce didn’t seem inclined to slow down so he could look for it. Deuce had a big cock that seemed possessed with a mind of its own and a map of Chip’s insides, so keenly did it hone in on his prostate. Chip’s head banged the headboard hard enough to deeply dent the cheap wood, probably recycled from another such headboard broken the exact same way.
“Sorry,” Deuce said, but his hips clearly weren’t, ’cause he didn’t slow down none.
“Fuck it. Don’t stop,” Chip said. He didn’t like how breathy his voice sounded, how desperate, but the last thing on Earth he wanted was for Deuce to get the idea in his head that he should pull out anytime soon. The last thing on Earth.
Chip groped Deuce’s chest, a pec in each hand, and dug into the man’s flesh hard enough his knuckles ached from it. Deuce called him a slew o’ names and fucked Chip’s ass like he wanted to kill him, bore a new hole through his body, a wider wound.
Maybe that big dick of his and his pea-sized brain shared some common ground after all.
“Fuck you,” Chip said, and spat at Deuce.
Deuce slapped Chip’s face hard enough that he saw stars for a minute, and his sphincter clamped down hard on Deuce’s dick. Deuce must’ve found that to his liking because he slapped Chip again. Harder.
“No. Fuck you,” Deuce said back.
Chip wanted to tell Deuce not to come inside him, but the big idiot was already burying his load.
Might as well then, Chip thought as he frigged his dick so hard that he started blowing his own payload, right onto Deuce’s chest. Hell, a blast even caught the fucker in the face! Chip wanted to laugh, but now that he was starting to come down, he figured another of those big-handed slaps wouldn’t be out of the question, and he wasn’t into sober pain.
Deuce pulled out and started getting his clothes on while Chip climbed out of the bed to look for his gun. He found it under the dresser and had to apologize to Deuce for accusing him of stealing it. Deuce gave him a big, dumb smile. “Like I’d ever rob myself of the chance to shoot you dead, fair as fair. You meet me in the town square, and you bring that gun of yours.”
“I’ll be there,” Chip said.
Chip was the fastest draw in the West, and Deuce was some jerk from out East who thought he was faster. It had taken six weeks and a fistful of fuckin’ before Chip would even consider the duel. At this point, he figured the town would start a collection to bury the fool once he was shot dead, but didn’t worry much about that.
Chip’d sure miss that dick of his, though.