Love And Fucking Clint Falin

**WARNING!!! Very Graphic Excerpt Below Containing Awesome Adult Sex And Vulgar Language. Yay!!!**

Happy February, my Perverts!

You might find it surprising that I don’t go out of my way to celebrate Valentine’s Day. I was always the girl that was left out and not that I’m bitter, but it always seemed like a lot of fuss for nothing. What’s the point of a romantic gesture if you’re doing it because you’re supposed to? Like a dummy, I married my husband two days after Valentine’s. So, every year we give each other awkward looks and try to figure out if the other person’s going to attempt a romantic maneuver or if it’s ok to stay home and binge on chimichangas and cheap wine in our sweatpants. Because it’s been 14 years and we’ve blessed ourselves with three kids and two dogs our observance of both days is usually combined and set aside for a date that’s more convenient. This year, Valentine’s and our anniversary were tragically on Sunday and Tuesday. I’ll wait until Saturday to shave and masochistically suffocate myself in layers of soul crushing Spanx, thank you very much.

Not that I don’t love romance. I do. Especially when it’s honest and doesn’t have unrealistic expectations. I never held out hope for a flash mob proposal (they didn’t even have those in the early 2000’s) or a ring in my dessert (you know I’d eat it before he had a chance to ask me). He simply rolled over one morning and snuggled into the corner of my neck and said “I want to marry you.” and it was precious and felt like honest-to-goodness love. That’s the sort of romance I get excited about.

As it’s February and we’re all celebrating love in our own way, I thought it fitting to share one of my other loves with you. And it’s extra appropriate because it ties in neatly with my current WIP. If you follow me on Twitter or read my blog, you’ll know I have my Twitter Loves. Gay Twitter gives me life. It’s where I say things I wouldn’t on Facebook because family members and ex coworkers are there. You know those assholes don’t have a sense of humor. And I like so many more of the people on Twitter. Those are my people. I have a very special Twitter Love, his name is Clint. Clint drives all the boys wild. The Thirst is strong with his followers. He’s yummy and funny and smart and understands that self deprecation can be uber sexy. Most importantly, he has the most adorable dog ever. And his dog has his own Twitter account and he can throw some serious shade at his owner. It’s not like the Facebook profile your mother-in-law started for her cat. No one’s mad that Barkley’s on Twitter. Anyways, Clint’s a hot piece of ass and I decided early on that he would be my Twitter husband and he was just going to have to live with it. He was wise and didn’t put up much of a fight.

One of the things that became very clear to me as I got to know him was that Clint is kind. It seems like a bland term as far as descriptions go but I put a hell of a lot of value on kindness. Twitter is very useful as a microscope. You see people in their naked, uninhibited forms. Especially if they’re anonymous. For a writer, that’s fascinating and priceless. So, I watch how people present themselves and interact with others. Clint is minimal. He skillfully employs witty, snarky memes to poke fun at himself and life in general. Every now and then he will share a glimpse of his personal life and his followers will trip all over themselves in their rabid adoration. Clint is always graceful and mature in his response. Actually, he’s subtle in that he rarely responds unless it benefits someone else positively. He’s very concerned with being supportive of all types of people, especially the less confident and often abused among Gay Twitter. That’s fucking sexy, right there.

A while back I was teasing Clint because his house and dog are impossibly perfect and I’d jokingly call him a dog groomer or an interior designer. He jokingly said he invented lasers. Then I told him I was going to write a tawdry series of books about him and in each book he’d have an affair with a man named Clint and each would have a different profession. Sort of like the Emmanuelle movies. I quickly wrote a cheeky little scene and giggled about it for days. Clint took it very well.

Screen Shot 2015-08-18 at 7.53.25 PM

About two months ago Clint and I were chatting and he asked if I was going to write him into one of my books. I snorted because I assumed he was joking and told him not to dare me because I’d totally do it. He said he thought it would be fun and I told him to think very carefully. All of my gays are versatile and he would see a version of himself doing things he might not be comfortable with. Clint wasn’t phased and told me he was in. His only stipulation was that he had to have a best friend named Barkley. Come on, now. How could I not?

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Clint

He agreed to let me poke around in his head and his life and invited me to ask him anything, like a fucking boss. I’ll send him random questions at 1 a.m. and he’ll send me little facts, observations and photos. Every few days I’ll warn him that he’s eating ass like cupcakes and hitching a ride to Pound Town regardless of his actual preferences because I want everyone to be happy. And honestly, if you’re like me, you’ve trolled Tumblr hoping to find Clint in a porn or a skeevy sex tape. I’ve yet to have any luck so I’m making my own dreams come true. Through it all, Clint has been lovely and patient and insists he doesn’t care what I do with him.

The problem with writing about someone you actually know is that other people are going to read it. There’s that bravery that comes from sitting behind a computer in the comfort of your own home that can turn people into serious dickbags. Add to that the ability to review something and they’re suddenly Dostoevsky and their opinion matters and has to be shared. There will be people that hate the book and people that don’t like Clint. That’s going to be awkward. I also had to decide how much of Clint was going to go into Clint. It didn’t seem right to exploit too much of his past for what is pretty much porn so I took a lot of liberties with his profession and upbringing. There are bits of his real life here and there but Book Clint’s backstory is mostly a product of my imagination. I asked him what he keeps in his fridge and what sort of underwear he wears because things like that give a character shape. Other things aren’t appropriate for public consumption.

Writing is wrapping up and I’m very pleased with what Clint and I have come up with. I haven’t begun editing but I think you should take a peek:

**WARNING!!! Very Adult Sexual Content About Hot As Fuck Grown-Ass Men Doing Awesome Dirty Things To Each Other!**

Clint has brunch with a guy that’s definitely not his type…

Ryder

(Not actually Ryder, just a hot as fuck man I found online)

 

“There’s a really cool record shop a few blocks away from here,” he said and Clint nodded.

“I stop in now and then, I’m always looking for something different to sample,” he said and Ryder looked impressed.

“That’s awesome,” he said as he stepped aside to let a couple pass. When he stepped closer, his head was tilted as he studied Clint.

“What?” Clint asked and Ryder’s lips curved before his head jerked toward the front of an antique shop. “You want to go in there?” He asked and Ryder shook his head then pointed at the doors. They were opened wide and a long, narrow red, white and blue flag hung vertically from the side of the building.

“Here,” Ryder declared before he ducked behind the flag and Clint frowned as he looked around. No one was paying attention so he quickly followed. Ryder was leaning against the brick wall and red and blue light slanted across his face as the sun bled through the flag. They were completely shielded from the street and Clint felt like they were miles away from humanity as he stepped closer. “What are you doing?” He asked softly as he braced his hand on the wall next to Ryder’s shoulder.

“Seeing if it was my game or a fluke,” Ryder murmured as his hand slid around Clint’s neck. Clint hummed in agreement as he lowered his head and Ryder’s hand fisted in his shirt as their lips brushed. It was like kissing a flame. Heat fanned across Clint’s face and seeped into his skin. He gasped into Ryder’s mouth and their tongues fluttered against each other tentatively. A golden current of warm need rolled through Clint and he heard Ryder moan as their tongues swirled and flicked urgently. Clint angled his head and felt dizzy as his hand slid around Ryder’s waist. He pulled him against his chest and the smell of soap and clean clothes wreathed around Clint and he wanted to wrap himself in Ryder. He pulled his head back and they were both breathless and stunned. Ryder licked his lips and his cheeks puffed out as he blinked at Clint. “Wow,” he huffed and Clint nodded jerkily. “Definitely my game,” Ryder panted and Clint rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he muttered as he pushed his hand into Ryder’s hair. He pinned him to the wall as he claimed his lips and Ryder growled softly as he gripped and pulled at Clint’s body, trying to get closer. Clint rolled his hips and silently cursed. They were both really hard and really ready. He didn’t know what to do. If this was a guy he’d flirted with at a club, he would have pulled him into an office or storage room. Or, he would have planned it better and they would have met at a bar close to a decent hotel because Clint had a feeling this was one of those times when he’d need a bed and a lot more time. But he knew that Ryder wasn’t that sort of guy. You didn’t bend super sweet elementary school teachers over a sticky desk or push them onto their knees between cases of beer. You strolled with them on sunny Saturday afternoons and made out on quilts under apple trees or next to a river or some other stupid cliche.

“We should fuck,” Ryder murmured. Or not… Clint thought as Ryder’s lips slid along Clint’s cheek. “Like, really soon,” he added before he pulled Clint’s ear lobe between his lips and sucked. Apparently, his ear lobe was connected to his cock and it throbbed painfully in response. Clint bit his lip to keep from moaning too loud and struggled to think and his eyes rolled as Ryder’s teeth grazed his neck. His game was definitely improving.

“I don’t live very far from here,” Clint whispered and immediately regretted it. He rarely invited anyone to his home. He never brought one night stands over. Ryder’s hand slid down the front of Clint’s jeans and cupped his hard-on. “We could go there now,” Clint said quickly and Ryder nodded as he sucked on the corner of Clint’s neck. Holy Fuck. Who knew school teachers could be so aggressive?

“Let’s go,” Ryder ordered as he pushed against Clint’s chest and he stumbled back. 

“Are you sure? You don’t seem like the type…” Clint frowned as Ryder pushed away from the wall and laughed.

“You’re hung, I’m hung, it’s going to be like clash of the fucking titans,” he said and Clint’s eyes flared as Ryder stepped from between the buildings and waved down a cab then opened the door. “I love quiet dinners and snuggling on the couch when it’s raining. But I also love fucking and there’s a time and a place for everything,” Ryder explained before he dropped onto the seat and scooted over.

 

Then…

 

“This is your house?” Ryder asked as the cab stopped in the driveway and Clint elbowed him when Ryder reached for his wallet. Ryder shrugged then pushed the door open as Clint paid the driver. The drive was blessedly short and the tension between them was still intense. Ryder set it aside as he scanned the front of a perfectly maintained two story Victorian.

“Yeah. Why?” Clint asked as he stood next to Ryder. He pulled out his phone and entered his passcode and there was a soft click at door and the house lit up. Ryder shook his head and followed Clint.

“It’s just really big and traditional,” he mumbled for lack of anything better to say as Clint pushed the door open and waited for Ryder to pass.

“And?” He asked and Ryder shook his head as he scanned. He had no idea what it was called but it was very nice. The furniture and upholstery was very traditional but modern.

“You live here by yourself?” Ryder asked as he surveyed wide expanses of gleaming stone countertops.

“Not really,” Clint said as he set his phone on the counter and Ryder swung to toward him. Clint whistled and Ryder turned and waited. Two pointy ears and a pair of black eyes peeked over the back of the couch and Ryder gasped.

“Who is that?” He demanded as he rushed into the living room and went around the couch. Ryder’s jaw dropped and he was done. The dapperest little dog Ryder had ever seen stared up at him as his nub of a tail twitched back and forth. “Oh, my God! I love… him?” It had to be a him.

“That’s Barkley,” Clint said as he went to the fridge and Ryder stopped paying attention.

“Well, yes, you are!” He said as he dropped onto the couch and patted his lap. Barkley raised one of his brows but didn’t move. Ryder grinned as he scratched behind the silver schnauzer’s ears and Barkley shut his eyes in approval. “You’re awesome!” Ryder whispered loudly and Barkley yawned then stretched and promptly jumped off the couch and scurried into the kitchen. Ryder turned and stared over the back of the couch as Clint tossed Barkley a strawberry. He caught it and chewed happily as his tail wiggled swiftly. Clint held up a bottle of water and Ryder shook his head.

“It’s just me and Barkley,” Clint said as he came around the counter and Ryder decided Clint was way sexier than he was five minutes earlier. Not that he wasn’t really hot before.

“And the extra bedrooms are his,” Ryder joked as Clint sat next to him.

“I like having a few guest bedrooms for family and friends,” he said as he reached for Ryder.

“Good. I’m moving in. Barkley and I are soul mates,” he murmured as he let Clint pull his lips to his.

“I think we could work something out,” Clint whispered as his lips slid back and forth across Ryder’s. It was miraculous. Everywhere they touched a tingling warmth flared and Ryder’s heartbeat became heavy and slow. He felt like he was high and he was unbelievably turned on. He was so aware of his skin and something inside of him was straining to get closer to something inside of Clint. And he really wanted to run his tongue over every inch of him. He smelled like the beach. There was coconut, lime and maybe rum and Ryder wanted to crawl inside of his clothes and rub his face all over Clint’s body.

“Oh, fuck…” Ryder groaned as he threw his leg over Clint’s thighs. “Take your shirt off,” he begged and Clint nodded and pulled his shirt free as Ryder attacked the buttons. Clint’s arms stretched around Ryder as he sucked on Clint’s lower lip and he felt Clint’s hands working behind him. A moment later there was a soft clink as Clint dropped a pair of cuff links on the table. Who wears cuff links? On purpose? He wondered then dismissed the thought as Clint pulled his shirt over his head. Jesus, he smelled amazing. Ryder gasped as he pushed Clint on his back and dove for the corner of his neck.

“Here?” Clint asked as his hands pushed at Ryder’s shirt and he nodded as he pulled an arm free then shook and flung his shirt over the back of the couch.

“For now,” he murmured against Clint’s chest. He licked and Clint hissed. “You taste so good,” Ryder purred then let his tongue drag all over Clint’s skin in slow swirls as he worked his way down Clint’s body. He quickly unbuckled Clint’s belt and had the fly open a moment later. He tugged and Clint lifted his hips and Ryder snorted and had to smother a giggle. “You’re a fancy gay,” he teased as he traced the waistband of the sheer black jock strap and Clint raised his head and frowned at Ryder.

“It’s comfortable,” he protested and Ryder shrugged.

“It’s going,” he stated as he pushed Clint’s jeans down his legs. Clint skillfully toed off his shoes and jeans and Ryder bit his lip as he traced Clint’s hard-on through the thin fabric. “This is gonna hurt,” Ryder sang and Clint’s brows pulled together.

“You don’t have to,” he said as he rose on his elbows. “You can fuck me,” Clint whispered as he stretched toward Ryder’s lips.

“Really?” Ryder asked as he lowered his head and nipped at Clint’s lower lip. “You seem like the masc for masc type so I assumed you were strictly a top,” he said and Clint shook his head.

“That’s usually how it works out but I’m vers,” he mumbled and Ryder grinned.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he said as he moved down Clint’s body.

“I wouldn’t make you do that if you didn’t want to,” he said and Ryder chuckled as he gently bit Clint’s erection then sucked on the head through the fabric and Clint jumped.

“Oh, no. I’m about to ride this dick,” he announced and Clint’s cock twitched and a dark spot spread around the head and Ryder hummed in approval as he curled his fingers beneath the elastic waistband. “I wasn’t complaining,” Ryder said softly as it slid lower and Clint groaned. Ryder nodded in agreement as inch after inch of Clint’s throbbing length was revealed. “I like when it hurts.” He winked up at Clint as his tongue stretched past his lips and he moaned softly as he collected a drop of pre-cum. It was crisp and sweet and the tip of Ryder’s tongue teased the slit as he wrapped his lips around the head and sucked greedily.

“Holy shit!” Clint hissed as his head fell back. “What do you teach?” He asked as he fisted his hands in his hair and Ryder laughed as he slid his tongue down Clint’s length.

“Second grade,” he murmured as rubbed his lips all over Clint’s sack. “But in my spare time I teach singing lessons.”

 

 

I like it so far. I can’t wait to show you the rest. If you’re looking for something to keep you distracted while you wait, I have so many lovely men doing super naughty things for you to enjoy.

10

Find them here:

http://amzn.to/1LudZUo

Mood Music Selection Of The Day

hozier

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Love And Fucking Clint Falin

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