EXPOSED * * * EXCERPT * * * Gavin ML Fletcher BLACK QUEER RADICAL BOOKS A HOMOEROTIC SUSPENSE NOVELLA. Copyright 2012 by Gavin ML Fletcher

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EXPOSED A HOMOEROTIC SUSPENSE NOVELLA * * * EXCERPT * * * Gavin ML Fletcher BLACK QUEER RADICAL BOOKS Copyright 2012 by Gavin ML Fletcher All rights reserved. No part of this novella excerpt may be reproduced
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EXPOSED A HOMOEROTIC SUSPENSE NOVELLA * * * EXCERPT * * * Gavin ML Fletcher BLACK QUEER RADICAL BOOKS Copyright 2012 by Gavin ML Fletcher All rights reserved. No part of this novella excerpt 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 permission in writing from the copyright owner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. SYNOPSIS Graphic artist turned photographer of cheating spouses, Ty Davis, thought he would enjoy a late morning booty call and then take some opportune pictures he was hired to snap of a cheating wife. Great sex from a handsome man with a plump ass and a couple thousand dollars in his pocket for little more than an hour of work was the thing of fiction. But nothing ever goes as planned. Instead of snapping a shot of the philandering lady, Ty gets a picture worth more than a thousand words. Now, men are chasing Ty across the city. His life is in danger. Images of men in black and machetes haunt him as he races against time to figure out who is after him. Even with the help of one of Atlanta s finest and sexiest detectives he wonders if he ll survive until the end of the week or face the fate of the man he thinks he saw murdered. The web of lies and deception is complex and Ty has little time to unravel the mystery. But he has to, his life depends on it. WARNING: This homoerotic suspense novella contains NUMEROUS sexual situations depicting gay oral sex, anal sex, rimming and mutual masturbation. This 34,000 word (93 pages) novella is about half the length of a full novel. Chapter One Damn, that nigga is fine as shit, though, I thought. The Marta train came to my stop. For the last fifteen minutes a rugged, light-skinned dude with corn rolls and tats all over his arms pressed at me hard. He eye-balled me, grabbed his dick a couple times through his pants and looked me up and down like he wanted to fuck me right there on the train. The freak in me probably would have let him if he had tried. There was always a raw, gritty appeal with trade. At least with real trade. Too many of the Atlanta kids tried to give boy in the streets but twerked their asses to Beyonce in the clubs. I was hip to the nonsense. I wasn t about to have a girl climb my back. But this one was legit. Straight trade. Sex just oozed from his pores and I could tell he didn t give a fuck. Especially with his girl sitting right next to him with a baby bump. He was a gutter dude and I was good with passing that one up. I shook my head, cleared my mind of all the freaky things I would do to the man and got off the train. Atlanta trade was always a mess. Dude tried to mouth his number to me while keeping tabs on his girl a stop back but I wasn t stunting his ass. They all were the same: try to be all hard and gutter until they got to the bedroom. I d bent over a good number in my day so I wasn t all that pressed to sneak and get the nigga s number. But I had to admit, my dick was responding to the thought of slipping between his yellow cheeks. I smiled to myself at the thought. That same smile quickly disappeared as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk. Cold and heavy raindrops smacked against my skin as I plowed up towards the Buckhead condominium I had originally set out to reach. Within minutes my jeans were drenched and clung tightly to my thighs. Each step felt like I was dragging my feet through snow. Thank goodness it was late March in Atlanta and all I had to actually deal with were the annoying ass flash showers. But Hell, that was enough. I cursed aloud, mostly at myself for not grabbing my extra-large umbrella when I ran out the door this morning, but also because of the crazily cold wind chill tearing through my wind breaker. The South was known for its temperate winters and inviting springs. But this spring was different. For some reason it felt like the grips of winter just refused to let go. Every day for the last two month I had grabbed my jacket and my umbrella. But today I didn t. And of course it would rain and be extra cold when I only had on a windbreaker. Today just wasn t going to be my day, I could already tell. Getting wet wasn t a big deal. Clothes could always be dried. But water damage to $3,000 worth of photography equipment wasn t acceptable. The surveillance gigs I had picked up recently had been a nice supplement to my graphic design income but in no way could justify a reinvestment in perfectly useable equipment. Luckily the condominium I was looking for was only a few blocks down from the station. Because of the rain, the sidewalks were clear. So I pulled my windbreaker over my head, tucked my equipment bag under my arm and broke out into a full sprint towards the midrise entrance. I was so worried about my equipment that I didn t even look around the condo s lobby after I shot through the double glass door. I placed the bag on a small table and checked my cameras and lenses. A wave of relief came over me once I saw nothing, except me, had gotten wet. If there were any less water soaking my jeans, people would have thought I pissed myself. I shook my head dismissively, wiping at my pant leg as if it would help. It didn t matter. Wet jeans were a whole lot less important than what I had came to the condo for in the first place; to get up on the roof to get my $3,500 shot. With a loud sigh, I looked up and scanned the lobby. It was pretty nice; very chic and modern with a minimalist design. My eyes settled on the young, almond-complexioned man standing behind the service desk in the far corner, near to the elevators. He was alone. I scooped up my stuff and made my way over. Good afternoon. A professional, tightlipped smile spread on the concierge s face. His sharp hazel eyes quickly locked onto mine. My interest was piqued. I leaned on the counter, invading his personal space and looked up at him teasingly. He tilted his head slightly, looked away quickly and then back at me. His smile got a little bigger, just enough for his white teeth to show. The professional façade had been broken. How can I help you, sir? He asked, his voice softer and more inviting. I reached out and touched his name tag. He didn t even flinch at my touch. That was always a good sign. I read his name. Jemias, I said, barely louder than a whisper. You have stunning eyes. A weaker man could get lost in them. Thank you, I guess. The tight-lipped smiled quickly returned. There was a steady skepticism and wistful wisdom in his gaze. It was a nice contrast to his round, youthful face. The kid wasn t a stranger to compliments and could probably sniff out bullshit a mile away. I knew I had to work my magic. And your bone structure is just amazing. I stepped back as if I needed to get a better look at him. It was all part of the game. Skin is flawless. The tone radiates. Slowly, I licked my lips and let my eyes travel up and down his body. His toned build pressed against the form fitting blue blazer. And I was sure that I saw a nice bulge slinking down his pant leg. My flirting was more than working. I probably would have grabbed him by the collar and kissed him on the spot if my interest was only to get in his pants. Jemias, have you ever considered modeling? At least to get some extra cash in your pocket, I said, putting on my salesman voice. I reached in my pocket and pulled out one of my business cards. Here, if you ever decide to try your hand in front of a camera, even as a hobby, give me a call. I licked my lips again. His eyes shifted to my mouth and back up to my eyes. At that point I knew that if he wasn t interested in modeling he would hit me up just to fuck. But I still played the business man role. Cause honestly, with that complexion, bone structure and your look in general, there s no reason why you couldn t at least get a handful of gigs. Jemias took the card and studied it like it was a set of notes for an upcoming test. His eyes shot back up and locked with mine. I could tell by the look on his face that thoughts danced between whether he should keep the conversation professional, personal or both. And how much would this photo shoot cost? Jemias asked, his voice surprisingly deep. I heard a hint of skepticism linger in the question. I put a disarming grin on my face. It made since that he had been approached before by photographers. It made sense. The young man was very attractive. He probably had been played before. Photo shoot would be free. I d pass the prints on to some agencies so you could get on some advertising material in catalogs or even on a commercial. But I do maintain a 15% referral fee. That s how I make my money. Jemias nodded as he took out his wallet and slid my card inside. He looked down at my bag and back up at me. So I m guessing you re here to do a photo shoot? Yea, a client wants to do a nude shoot up on the roof. But he said I needed special permission or something to get up there. Oh, yea. The roof is off limits. Only the maintenance workers and the elevator inspectors go up there. Want me to call a maintenance man down to see if you can work something out? I nodded. Jemias wasn t going to help me get up there and I already knew trying to get a maintenance man to give me access to the roof wasn t going to happen. But I might be able to swipe an access card somehow. I just hoped that whoever he called down was gay or at least somewhat curious; and I prayed that he was cute. Flirting and working over guys was easier when they were cute. Just as Jemias reached for the phone a handsome, curly haired, darkskinned man came up to the counter, obviously annoyed. I stole a quick glance at the man s plump, round ass. My dick stiffened against my jeans. Jemias, the delivery company bringing my living room furniture today said they were down here in the lobby and I don t see them. Have you seen anyone? Sorry Mr. Diaz, I haven t seen anyone. Let me call some of the nearby condos and see if they are at the wrong place. Thank you, Jemias. Jemias looked at me and shifted his gaze from Mr. Diaz back to me. I understood. He had to take care of the resident first. I didn t mind. I looked over at the man and gave a polite smile. He returned the gesture and his eyes shifted down to my pants. I wasn t sure if he was looking at my crotch or my wet pant leg. I looked down and saw that my meat print was very visible through the wet fabric. I made sure to keep my eyes on his face. Our eyes locked as he looked back up at me. We both knew what he had seen. Looks like you ve made a mess of yourself, the stranger said. He licked his lips and grinned at me. I chuckled. Yea, got caught in one of those damned flash showers. I motioned towards the entrance. We both glanced over. The rain had stopped and the sun was shining brightly. His face contorted into a quizzical stare as if he didn t believe me. It quickly turned into an inviting smile. It s still chilly this time of year. You re going to mess around and get sick in those wet clothes. Well, wet clothes or not I ve got a job to do. Not much of a choice at this point. I understand. He clasped his hands over his chest. But how about you come up and throw your clothes in the dryer real quick? Shouldn t take more than twenty minutes, tops. I looked at the baby faced, chocolate stranger curiously. It wasn t everyday someone offered me a chance to dry my clothes. Besides, I d welcome any offer that resulted in my being pant less in the company of someone as cute as the man. You sure? I mean, you don t even know me. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him seductively. I could be some psycho serial killer or something. He held his hand out and kept his eyes on mine. Name s Lutalo Diaz. Ty Davis. He cupped my hand firmly. His hands were soft and warm. Good, now we re not strangers. Now come up and dry off. I appreciate the gesture, but are you sure? Usually an invitation to get naked at a man s house before names are exchanged happens in the wee hours of the night. Lutalo laughed aloud. Like everything else about him it was seductive and cute at the same time. Yea, stop worrying. Besides, Jemias here saw you so I m not worried about you being some crazy, psycho killer or burglar. And if you are I m pretty sure I could defend myself. I m not a light weight, trust. I smiled at the joke. He was flirting. And truth be told, he probably could defend himself. He was about my size, maybe an inch or two shorter but a little stockier. He was definitely thick where it counted. Lutalo looked down at my bag. And based off the Cannon logo on your bag I d assume you were into film or photography. Probably here for some shots or something. Yea, I m a photographer. Lutalo smiled a big white smile so I smiled back. The man was attractive and if I wasn t here on business I might have seen the flirting through to fruition and banged his back out. But ass never was put before cash. Lutalo was my ticket up the elevator, to the roof and maybe, just maybe, a piece of ass after I was done. Jemias set the phone down. Mr. Diaz, the moving company went to the condominium down the street. They should be here shortly. Lutalo held my gaze as he spoke to Jemias. Good, just buzz them up when they get here. Yes, sir. Alright Ty, let s go and get you out of those wet clothes. Lutalo said, smiling. Chapter Two I chuckled and shook my head as I followed Lutalo to the elevators. I glanced back at Jemias. A knowing look was written all over his face. I mouthed for him to call me. He smiled and nodded slightly before answering an incoming call. I glanced over at Lutalo as we waited for the elevator. His look was very casual and professional. The top button to his light blue shirt was unfastened. It was Calvin Klein. Most of the clothes he wore looked like designer wear. I groaned on the inside. Lutalo seemed like a nice enough guy but from my experience, label and brand whores were pretentious and assuming. The fact that he d recognized the Cannon logo on my bag made me feel that much more uneasy. Finally, the elevator door opened and we stepped inside. Lutalo pulled out a gold colored access card. This was new. I made a mental note. The only access cards I had seen until now were the white ones. He pressed the 17B button, slipped in his card and we were on our way up. Lutalo turned and faced the elevator door behind us. The elevator was double sided. After a short, quiet ride up, the doors opened right into the living room. The condo was huge. I m sorry about it being so empty in here. I just moved in and getting my furniture delivered has been Hell, as you can see. Lutalo motioned towards the open bedroom door. You can have a seat in there and set your stuff down. I crossed the large expanse of the living room and stepped into the equally large bedroom. The space was stunning. The cherry oak hardwood floors and the ceiling to floor windows were breathtaking; whatever Lutalo was doing for a living paid well. Aside from the kitchen, the master suite was the only furnished room in the condo. It was huge. It seemed like everything in the room was extra large. The windows were wall length; the bed looked to be a California King size; and the two loveseats in the sitting area where I set down my camera equipment seemed oversized. I looked back at Lutalo. He looked at me as if waiting for something. I shifted my eyes to the left and back to him quizzically. I was at a lost for why he was staring at me. You know I need your clothes if I m going to put them in the dryer. An expression of understanding and embarrassment washed over my face. My clothes, especially my pants, were still soaking wet. I stripped down slowly under Lutalo s watchful gaze. He made no attempt to hide that he was leering at my body. So I decided to give him a show. By the time I got down to my purple striped boxer briefs I thought his tongue would fall out. I picked up my wet pile of clothing and walked over to Lutalo. His eyes stayed on my meat the whole time. He grinned from ear to ear. I m going to throw these in the dryer. I ll be right back. Just as he reached the bedroom door he looked back at me and licked his lips. Make yourself comfortable. I smiled back at him. I will, thank you. As sexually enticing as the whole scenario with Lutalo was turning, I still had a job to do. I picked up my phone from the table in the sitting area and checked the time. The woman I was tracking for her husband, Amanda Winters, would be meeting the man she was having an affair with in about forty-five minutes. The two of them were like clockwork every Tuesday at eleven in the morning. Twice I d spotted them meet up and have a go at it. And twice I had the most horrible vantage point for a shot to catch them in the act. I had promised myself that the third time would be different. I paced the room thinking about how I was going to get on the roof so I could snap some shots of her in the act. Lutalo s access card gave him entry to one of the best condos in the building but it most likely didn t give him access to the roof. I had to get one of those cards and quick to see if it at least gave me access to a stairwell up to the roof. I walked over to the wall length window, looking out at the urban sprawl of Midtown, Atlanta. A wave of disbelief shot through my body. I couldn t believe what I was looking at. I shook my head at my dumb luck. The apartment Amanda Winters met her lover at was right across from where I was standing. And the blinds were wide open. To Hell with the roof, I needed to set up shop right here. It s a wonderful view isn t it? I turned towards the sound of Lutalo s voice and was greeted with a pleasant surprise. My smooth skinned, pretty boy host stood there, stark naked. I took in the sight of his tight, toned body and smiled. He was beautiful. Some views are better than others, I said, grabbing my dick through my underwear. Of that I am sure, Lutalo said. He bit his bottom lip and stared at my thickening manhood. The view was one of the reasons why I bought this place. Just to wake up to that view every morning is worth every penny. But waking up to an Adonis like you would be priceless. Lutalo slowly walked my way with a mischievous grin on his face. He stepped right up to my face, placed his hand on my chest and went down to his knees. He kissed and nibbled on my straining meat through the fabric of my briefs. The teasing drove me crazy. I yearned for the wet warmth of his mouth and lips wrapped around my dick. I tried to enjoy the teasing but I couldn t help myself. My hands shot down to my crotch and I pulled my dick out. I looked down with pride at my brick hard, pole jutting out from my thatch of trimmed pubes. Then I saw the hunger in Lutalo s eyes. His mouth opened slowly. I held the back of his head with one hand and the base of my meat with the other. I slid my dick in his mouth and pulled out quickly. It was my turn to tease. I rubbed the head of my dick across his bottom lip. A clear line of precum oozed from the slit of my pole over his lips. His tongue jutted out and licked the juices and then the head of my dick. He felt soft against my meat. My shit throbbed in anticipation. He was ready and so was I. I snatched a handful of his curly hair and tilted his head back. His mouth opened instinctively. With one thrust, I buried my throbbing pole down his throat. Lutalo didn t flinch or back away. He took the length of me like a pro. At that point it was no holds bars. I long stroked his face nice and slow, each time my low sagging balls smacked his chin. Damn, you sucking that dick. Just a pro aint you? Lutalo didn t even look up at me. He just sucked harder and faster. The man was on a mission. The all too fam
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