Wednesday 21 December 2011


Merry Christmas everyone. With just days to go before the big event it's a very exciting time, with lots of parties and drinks.

Just today I finished the final proofs of Body Language. The new e-book is due for publication on 27th January 2012. Like Bedtime Stories it will feature ten great new stories and one bonus tale Show Off, which has already featured as a free story on this blog and is still available here:


Check back in the New Year for more free stories and all the news on Body Language as the publication date approaches.   I hope to update the design of this blog very soon – I’m not the most gifted of techs but am getting there slowly.

As well as the new story collection I've been very busy on a brand new erotic novel, which will be unleashed in the summer. I'm really looking forward to a little bit of time off over Christmas and over indulging in all the good things like booze, food and sex, watching loads of television, readiong sopme great books and visiting family. I hope everyone else will be enjoying the festive period too. Grab someone special and drag them under the mistletoe.

Merry Christmas.

Friday 16 December 2011

BEDTIME STORIES now available on Smashwords

Bedtime Stories is now available in a selection of e-book formats for those readers seeking an alternative to Kindle.  Now listed at Smashwords the collection is available  for on-line reading, or in Epub, PDF, RTF and other formats.

Check out the options right here:

Bedtime Stories E-book

Thursday 15 December 2011

The KEVIN KILLIAN interview in full.

For anyone who may have missed the fantastic interview I had with Mr Kevin Killian, or can’t be bothered to trawl back through the posts to read the episodes, I’ve just uploaded the whole interview in a single document here:


A big thanks to Kevin for his encouragement and help with the book, for making it something I am immensely proud of.  What a great guy.
As 2011 begins to wind up, I have to admit it’s been a great year for me.  I’m thrilled that Bedtime Stories has found a market on Kindle, that people can finally read it and are enjoying it.  2012 is looking equally exciting, with a new collection of stories due in February and a brand new erotic novel planned for later in the year.

There’s also the possibility that my previous novels Words Made Flesh and The Chain may get an e-book release later in the year.  Watch this space for more news in the coming weeks.
Check back soon for more free story exclusives.  In the mean time have a very

Merry Christmas

Love Thom

Saturday 10 December 2011


Today I bring you the final part of my interview with Kevin Killian, in which we discuss the stories Daddy Fuller (my favourite in book) and Night Life, which some of may already have read as a bonus story on this blog.  I'm about to edit the interview into a single file which will avaialbe to read online and download in the next couple of days.

It’s been another busy week, writing a brand new story, while working on the manuscript of my next collection Body Language.  The new book is just about ready and will be available in e-book format from the end of January 2012.  Look out for more information and free promo stories very soon.

Story 10: Daddy Fuller
Kevin: Mr, Wolf, there's a lot of love in your book, mostly sexual in nature, of course, for it is porn, but there is more than a bit of romantic love and nowhere is that expressed so vividly as in the intergenerational romance of Daddy Fuller. Where do you see love fitting in to the more complicated and imprinted patterns of a man's sexual life?

Thom: That's a huge question. Wow. I can only really speak for myself but when I was young, love was everything. I didn't want to have sex with a man I wasn't totally in love with. That was certainly the case for my first sexual experiences. Then as I got a bit older, it was more about the sex - having lots of it. Not even knowing my partners name, let alone being in love with them. I spent a few years, like a lot of men do, getting that phase out of my system. And now, in my late 30's it feels like I've come full circle, with love and emotion being absolutely integral to sex again.

Kevin: Are we to imagine Daddy Fuller and Jimmy as a couple, or is this just a one time thing? I won't spoil the surprise ending, but Daddy Fuller allows his boy a much greater liberty than we usually see in this sort of older man/younger man story. Might be the biggest gasp of surprise in the book!

Thom: Again, this is just my opinion, a reader might take away something different, but the events in Daddy Fuller are the beginning of something wonderful for the characters. I definitely see them as a couple. It might not be the easiest of relationships, because they have such different life experiences, but they have a very strong emotional connection. Intergenerational porn stories tend to be very one dimensional, focusing on the eroticism of older man and boy. "Whose ya daddy?" kind of thing. In reality it’s a very complicated thing, so many issues surrounding maturity, experience, insecurity. I definitely wanted to incorporate some of that into my story - as well as getting in some great man/boy sex.

In one of my earlier books a fictional character comes to life and visits the author who created him. If any of the characters in Bedtime Stories wanted to cross over from fiction to reality and pay me a visit, I definitely want it to be Daddy Fuller.

Kevin: The story is unusual also in that it begins with a gruesome accident which seems to release in both man and boy a yearning for something pure and spiritual, as well as make them right horny. I have always admired your work for taking chances and you have never disappointed me.

Bonus Story: Night Life
Kevin: The steamy, sensual "Night Life" is a bonus story in more than one way. It is almost like two stories wrapped in one. In the first, set backstage at a gentlemen's strip club, the characters perform a charade of public sex, with the spice that it might come real at any given moment. Yet the management would frown on its employees actually getting it on with customers. The second story is private, intimate, with one stripper, Matt, getting drawn into the bed of a pair of cousins, Hungarian men, one older, one barely legal. You have convinced me now that Hungarians are the sexiest men on the planet, but Matt is pretty frisky himself and he's 100% English I suppose.

Thom: Matt is English, yeah. Actually I've never met any Hungarian men. This is one of those stories that came to life from a photo shoot in a porn mag with a Hungarian model. Often I can look at a man in a photograph and the image will act as a muse to my imagination. The photographs have nothing to do with what happens in the story; it was just a starting point - the image of a beautiful man that inspires the tale.

Kevin: I wonder if this started as two stories, or whether the first led organically to the second. You had me from the moment Matt met Joszef in the sleazy club toilet. Dare I ask if you've ever been stuffed from both ends like the boy in the story? Or are you too much a professional to say? Never mind, we interviewers have to "take chances" too.

Thom: It wasn't two short stories but an attempt to structure a short story in two acts, a bit like a play or a stage show. As you point out the first act is all centre stage and public, with the second act taking place backstage.

Without elaborating too much on your final question Kevin, the answer is - yes, of course. In reality, it's not as easy as we make it out to be either. Too much going on and like a lot of men, I'm not great multi-tasker.

Order now from

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Tuesday 6 December 2011


Hi Guys.  Today I'm posting part four of my interview with Kevin Killian, in which we discuss the erotic thriller The Dark Room and Mighty Fine.  Both of which are availabe right now in


I'll be posting the final part of this interview later this week, together with a file of the complete interview from start to finish.  I also have another exclusive free story which will be online very soon.

Thanks to everyone who has already purchased a copy of the new book.  I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did with the writing.

Love Thom xxxx

Story 7:  The Dark Room

Kevin: “The Dark Room” is the longest and most technically accomplished story in the book. It’s actually a murder mystery and packs a wallop at the end, once the reader realizes that is actually happening underneath all that sex tension. Is this your answer
to Basic Instinct, Mr. Wolf? You’re a tricky bastard.

Thom:  As you know Basic Instinct is my all time favourite film and has inspired me more than any other.  The Dark Room was intended to be one of about six stories that would have made up a collection of erotic noir called Dazed, Beautiful and Bruised, very much in the style of Basic Instinct, Body Heat and The Fourth Man.  I thought it was a great idea and was really excited about the collection.  However, mainstream publishers get very nervous when porn writers touch on issues of sex, violence and murder.  I had problems with both my earlier books Words Made Flesh and The Chain.  The erotic thriller collection just wasn’t worth doing once the publishers imposed their “rules” upon what was and wasn’t allowed.  Thankfully, without a publisher telling me what to do now, I have more freedom in the content of my stories and my next book will be a very erotic thriller.

Kevin:  Strangled with a red jock-strap—what a way to go! How’d you come up with that one?

Thom:  I thought it was a great gay porn equivalent of the beautiful blonde strangled with her own silk stockings.  I had been watching a lot of Italian giallo movies, which feature some gloriously eroticised murders scenes, and they also fed into my thought processes when I was writing The Dark Room.  I love the imagery of the sexy young boy strangled in a dark room with his own jock strap.  It’s so over the top it’s ridiculous but it works wonderfully in the genre of an erotic thriller.  Sharon Stone has a great line in Basic Instinct 2, “People die in my novels all the time.  I have to think of new and interesting ways to kill them.”  That’s the fun part of being a writer.

Kevin:  I guess in every town there’s a club like Spurt and a guy like Lee Ottoman, the promiscuous pin-up boy who meets his end in “The Dark Room.”  Where did you first go for sex? A good looking man like you must have had an easy time of it.

Thom:  I hate to disappoint you but I must have been well into my mid 20s before I discovered clubs like Spurt and dark rooms.  I grew up in a tiny fishing village on the Northumberland coast and the nearest gay scene was 20 miles away in Newcastle.  I first started going to gay clubs in the early 1990s but it was actually very conservative then compared to clubs nowadays.  We still had really ancient obscenity laws in the UK at the time and clubs could be closed down if there was a hint of anything sexual going on.  There used to a place called The Gardens where guys who hadn’t managed to cop off in the clubs would go to afterwards for some very late night cruising.  It was a sleazy little park down by the river.  I hated it.  It was quite a dangerous place.  Guys were beaten up all the time and there were a couple of murders around the time I used to go there.  I had a friend who was addicted to the place and I would often end a night out, sitting on the steps down to The Gardens, waiting for him to finish off so we could share a taxi home.

Story 8: Too Far Gone

Kevin:  Porn comes with its own sets of cliches, which you always avoid so skillfully. In this tale the blowjob, often treated as a mere preliminary to anal action, assumes a sensational importance, it is by far the most described and elaborated part of the story. Our narrator craves the taste of Kyle’s cock in his mouth; he literally has to have it. Any thoughts?

Thom:  Yes, porn can be quite formulaic and rigid; defined top and bottom roles with a precise order of action – blow job, rimming, fucking.  That’s not a criticism.  Sometimes, as reader and a viewer, I want formulaic stuff.  The excitement comes from what you know is going to happen and the anticipation of it.  But sometimes it’s good to shake it up.  In reality I wouldn’t adhere to such strict rules.  Some days a blow job might be the main event, or even just a wank.  It shouldn’t always be about fucking. 

I’ve often been tempted to write a very realistic sex story, touching on the real practicalities of it, but have never yet cracked it.  In real life we’re not put off by an unexpected fart while pounding away, or the occasional mess upon withdrawal, but I don’t think anyone wants that in their porn.  Most people want glamour and perfection in erotica.  I prefer something that falls somewhere in between the two.

Kevin:  “Too Far Gone” takes place in a quiet hotel in an unnamed “urban village” I imagine somewhere in the US or Canada or England, but maybe it’s any place where men are on the prowl trying to find sexual release. We don’t know where they are, the name of the city, the name of the hotel, even the name of the speaker; is this to concentrate our attention on the raw sex between them? A seriously hot story—and not a twink in sight.

Thom:  Yes, the story takes place in anywheresville.  It could be America, or Europe or Australia.  It’s just two lonely men getting off together in a hotel.  It’s actually inspired by a hotel called the Orotava Palace in Tenerfie.  If anyone has ever been they would know it is exactly how I describe it and if you have a room on the back of the hotel, you look down directly onto the gay village, which on a weekend gets very busy indeed.  But I didn’t want to be that specific in the story.  This could be happening in any city on any night, anywhere.

Not a twink in sight?  Guilty again.  I might have to write some twink stories to readdress this balance.  The mature men are getting all the action.

Friday 2 December 2011

Brief News Update

Whoever came up with the saying "sex sells" obviously hadn't tried to promote a collection of gay erotic fiction. I've been writing and publishing erotica for nearly 20 years. For most of that time it was with the backing of a mainstream publisher. Nothing prepared me for the steep, up hill slog of trying to promote an independent e-book. I actually thought I was well prepared for the task; I knew my market and how I wanted to get the word out to them; I had promotion material prepared, advertising artwork and freebies to give away. That seems somewhat naive now. What I wasn't prepared for was the utter negativity from webmasters and forum readers, and reviewers with a closed door policy to self publications. I wasn't trying to use a scatter gun approach with the sites I approached, they were all erotic story based websites, blogs and forums. Neither was I spaming the sites with unwanted ads. In every case I've obeyed forum rules and approached webmasters direct.

Publicising an erotic book isn't easy. Most of the avenues available to independent authors - local press, radio etc - are understandably out of the question. Is there a right way to do it? I'll keep trying and let you know.

In the meantime I'm almost finished the final stages of proof reading for my second collection Body Language, due for publication in February 2012. Maybe two books will be easier to publicise than one.

Look out for the next part of my interview with Kevin Killian this weekend.

Saturday 26 November 2011


My new book Bedtime Stories is now available on Amazon.  Right here:

Readers can preview the book on-line or download a sample for free.
There’s been so much hard work involved putting this collection together, I’m thrilled that it’s finally available.  A massive THANK YOU to Kevin Killian for all his help and encouragement with the book.  You are amazing and I owe you big time.

As a thank you everyone else here is a promo story called The Performance.  It’s not included in the book and is available exclusively in PDF format here:

 Two older stories Night Life and Show Off are also still available for free.

Thursday 24 November 2011


The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.  How very true.  After months of hard work the eventual publication date of Bedtime Stories continues to shift for more reasons than I care to mention, none of which were foreseen (arson, stress, legalities).  Writing the stories for this collection now seems like the smallest aspect of the process to publication.

However, the good news is the book is just about there and should be uploading to Amazon in the new few days.  I’m also a third of the way through the final proofing of my second story collection Body Language and that is looking very good.  Hopefully it will have an easier journey into the world than its older brother.

In the meantime here is the next instalment of my interview with the wonderful Kevin Killian in which were talk about The Boy in the Middle and Afternoon Interlude.

Story 5: The Boy in the Middle
Kevin: You write so beautifully: “He wore a pair of cheap blue shorts which slipped from his arse with a whisper “ Similarly, “I opened him, looking into the hairy crack, at the rosy pink hole in the black.” Thom, if you still have those cheap, blue, shorts that whisper, could you pack them up and send them to me here in San Francisco. I'm a sucker for a good souvenir.
Thom:  If I had them, you could have them, but I’m not a cheap shorts kind of guy.  And if I was on a sexual mission I would wear my very best “pulling pants”.  You must have got going with a really dishy guy before; it’s all going well, he’s handsome, he’s sexy, you’re cock feels like it’s going to burst, you pulls his trousers down and find . . .  really bad, cheap underwear. 

I once got going with a guy who not only wore cheap nasty pants, but he was wearing them inside out.  All I could wonder was whether he was wearing a dirty pair for a second day.  It was a big turn off.  I’ve never found a way to eroticise that particular encounter.

Kevin:  Seems like there's nothing some boys want more than a good "roasting," plugged up at both ends by a pair of cocks, but I'm wondering, does sex with a third party bring a couple closer together?

Thom:  It definitely can.  I think it’s important for couples to choose another man they both really fancy, who also fancies both of them.  Then it’s wonderful and exciting and a great experience to share.

But if one side of the triangle isn’t too keen on the idea, I wouldn’t even try it.  In those cases a threesome can be a disaster with all kinds of messy repercussions for the relationship. 

My other “golden rule” for couples and threesomes: pick someone who can also take a hint when it’s time to leave.

Kevin:  You're great at delineating this one sort of character, the young man so driven by sex that he starts to lose other parts of his personality.  The boy, Jared, is one of your most unforgettable creations.

 Thom:  Thank you.  There was a lot of Jared in me when I was young.  Thankfully that was a very, very long time ago.  I actually wrote a story that I was going to include in this book but when I came to redraft it, I was appalled at how accurately it portrayed me and some of the men I knew at a difficult time of my life.  It was about 18 years ago and I thought writing about it would be a good way of accepting the past.  But when I came to look at the story again there was no way I could expose myself like that.

I’d rather send Jared into the world; a sexy, glamorised version of the fucked up kid I used to be.

Story 6: Afternoon Interlude

Kevin: Viva Barcelona! Mr. Wolf, have you often crossed borders for the purpose of having sex? Here in the US we have a term for men like you: sex tourists.
Thom: I wouldn't call myself a "sex tourist" but we have a saying too that goes "What happens on holiday stays on holiday", which is a licence to do what the hell you like. I've been lucky enough to go to Barcelona three times and it's a fantastic city. Just being there makes you want sex; the sights, the smells, the culture. And Spanish men are without a doubt, the sexiest in the world.  After my second visit I knew I had to set a story there.  Someday I hope to write a longer, more involve piece about the city.

Kevin: I like it when you speak in the universal language of love, and this story really has a lot of highlights. You said earlier that men in cheap underwear turn you off, but it seems like the geeky nerd look is a real turn-on, especially when the foreign national is wearing chinos moulded to his butt.
Thom: This is another old story, I can't remember but chinos might have made a brief fashion comeback around the time I was writing. They should be a fashion staple in my opinion. Chinos are hot, especially on a beefy bum and sturdy set of thighs. I also love a geeky nerd.

Going off on a tangent here but I get turned on by differences; big and small, black and white, old and young. There are several extremely popular porn sites on line that leave me utterly cold with their narrow view of what they consider to be attractive. I call them the Stepford Twinks; identikit bodies, waxed, hard and white. It's almost as if they keep putting a different head on the exact same body. Who exactly wants to fuck that? It would be like cuddling up to an ironing board. It's rather creepy. I'd much rather see a man with a hairy back, or a slight belly, or a bit of puppy fat on a twink. Between Bedtime Stories and my next collection Body Language I really hope I've succeeded in getting a bit of variety into my men and celebrating difference.

Kevin: The elbows and knees interplay was particularly swift here, and once or twice I had to draw a diagram to see who was on top of whom. You must love the afternoon sun, I loved the hero watching sweat break out on the small of Ettore's back. It's the simplicity of your sense observations that make them powerful--who was it said, that God is "in the details."

Thom: Maybe it's the sun that makes Spain such a gloriously sexy place. Where I live in England we average about one good week of sun per year, which makes a two week holiday to somewhere hot an essential for most Brits.

It's also the little things that make a scene sexy for me, like the sweat on the small of someone’s back. I find that when I'm watching porn too, I focus on the little things; a patch of hair, a freckle, maybe the imprint of a guys underwear in his flesh. I find all those little details arousing. Basically I want anything but the banality of a Stepford Twink.

Friday 11 November 2011


It’s with regret that I have to announce a slight delay in the publication of Bedtime Stories.  The e-book should have been available on Amazon from Monday 14th November.   Unfortunately an arson attack on my office has meant a delay in the final stages of uploading the book to Amazon.  I intend to make the delay as slight as possible and am working full out to  have the book on line my Monday 21st November – only one week late.

In the meantime here is part two of my interview with the wonderful Kevin Killian.

Part Two

Story 3: The Dump

Kevin: In "The Dump" the narrator answers a post on a blog to come and "Pump and Dump" a load during the blogger's three-night weekend party. Just come to the door, it will sway open unlocked, no conversation, just come in and fuck me and leave. The promise of a gorgeous and unguarded arse lures our narrator into a seedy paradise. Does he go tempted by the idea that other men will have been there before him and after him?

Thom: I think the allure of a one bottom gang bang must be in knowing you're stuffing your dick into sloppy seconds, thirds etc. It's all part of the experience. Different things turn on different people. I once met a man in a sauna who didn't want to fuck a tight hole - he was only interested in messed up, sloppy orifices.

Kevin: I'm not keen on this fetish, but you write so viscerally that I feel like I'm there and despite myself, I'm getting turned on. Next time I see a half-open door and hear what you call the "rhythmic fuck-slap  of skin against skin," I'm going in What's the appeal to this setup, Mr. Wolf?

Thom: There's a lot of stuff on line that really plays up the come loaded/breeding aspect of this kind of scenario. I have really mixed and contradictory feelings about this kind of scene. On one hand it's quite hot to see a cute guy being used so mercilessly for a fuck, but on the other it's insanely dangerous. Who in their right mind wants to die for the sake of a sexual thrill? I wanted to write a slutty bottom story in that mold, without fetishising the "bareback" elements of the tale. There is something inherently sexy about being used by men in this way; no romance, no chat, no dinner, they don't even care if you enjoy it or not - they just want to fuck you.

There's a famous hotel in Blackpool that has gained a sleazy reputation over the years for this kind of behaviour. Guests are encouraged to leave their bedroom doors open and see what the night brings them. The idea of the advertising your arse over a blog comes direct from real life when I saw just such a blog entry from a young man inviting strangers to pay him a visit for no other reason than to rape him. I think its the danger I find so exiting (in fiction); the contrast between sex and death. In reality I want the chat, romance and dinner.

Story 4:  Bedtime Story

Kevin: In "Bedtime Story" our hero writes himself into an erotic frenzy, pounding the laptop with a story about sex in a farmhouse with an available twink. Just when he finishes the draft, there's a dramatic pounding on his front door. I love the image of the writer getting aroused from his own writing. It's almost as if he has summoned his midnight visitor out of his own imagination—a theme you have explored before in your first novel Words Made Flesh. Any comments?

Thom:  I hadn't really made the connection between Bedtime Story and Words Made Flesh. In Flesh the midnight visitor is literary creation brought to life, where in Bedtime Gordon is a very real person. Bedtime Story is actually the oldest entry in the book, originally written around 2003, so maybe the horny writer, pounding his fantasies into reality, was a preoccupation of mine at the time. In the old days my working style was very much like we see in the story; a germ of an idea would be bashed out in a frenzied writing session of three or four hours, from start to finish. So I probably got myself in a quite a heightened state of arousal, blurring fantasy and reality. The first draft of Words Made Flesh was written in about four weeks, which sounds impossible.

Nowadays it can take me four weeks just to complete a short story.

Kevin: Again the hero has sex with a married man who comes to him for the kind of sex his wife won't give him. This one time they're about to spend all night together, a first in an affair which takes place on stolen afternoons. Is our hero falling for Gordon? Is there love, or only the animal sex they enjoy together?

Thom:  There’s a bond between them that goes a bit deeper than sex, but I don’t think its love.  I think there’s greed and selfishness on both side of the relationship.  They both want convenient sex and don’t really care where they get it from.  They are just a pair of very horny blokes.

Kevin: Is there a Madonna reference in the name of your "Bedtime Story"?

Thom:  Not really, though I’ve never been shy of stealing song titles in the past.  This story used to be called Coming Back for More, which is probably a different song title.  I changed it to Bedtime Story when I decided on Bedtime Stories as an umbrella title for the collection.  Again, this was my inner geek telling me I had to have a title story to give the collection some coherence.  I can’t get past things like that.

As for Madonna’s Bedtime Stories, that’s my second favourite album of hers, right behind Erotica.  I think a lot of her albums are great when I first hear them but they don’t really stand the test of time.  After a while a usual just play one or two tracks, but Bedtime Stories and Erotica are fab long players and I still listen to the both in full.

Tuesday 8 November 2011

THOM WOLF An Interview by Kevin Killian

Part One

In this exclusive interview Thom and Kevin Killian discuss the stories that make up Thom’s long awaited collection of erotic fiction Bedtime Stories.

White Sheets

Kevin: Mr. Wolf, the boy in the story looks to my mind just like the model on the cover of your book. He's adorable. Which came first? Did you write the story, then find the model, or find the model, then write the story around him. Either way there's something magical about your writing, like a spell is being cast.

Thom: White Sheets was the last story I wrote for the book. I had pretty much made the final selection of stories and thought I was finished when I began to look for a cover image which would represent the theme of Bedtime Stories. I considered a lot of different pictures and models, all of which would have made incredible artwork, but when I discovered the boy who now adorns the cover it was love at first sight. I always knew that photo would be the cover.

But once I had this glorious cover I began to think differently about the content of the book. I'm one of those people who gets quite irate when a movie poster, or a book or dvd cover doesn't represent the product you're buying. A good example is the poster for the 1976 remake of King Kong. There's Kong, straddling the Twin Towers of the World Trade Centre and tearing helicopters down from the sky; which doesn't happen in the film. Or the shark on the poster for Jaws represents a beast about 200 feet long, compared to the 25 foot creature in the film. So in order to keep myself happy, I wanted a story that could be a reflection of the cover.

That boy was a very easy Muse. He's so handsome and fresh faced. I have another picture of him which is a glorious close up of his face that just makes me melt. I carried around copies of his pictures in my note book for a couple of days and the character began to grow from there. The opening story is a piece of pure fantasy and wishful thinking on my part. It was a delight to write and it felt like a great beginning to the book. I love it.

Kevin: How did you create the character of Henry, the man approaching middle age who has sort of given up on sex—even though he has a huge cock, the kind guys get hooked on—until he encounters the springtime freshness of Josh?

Henry is more of an autobiographical character (minus the Kong cock). I've been in a relationship for 16 years, unlike Henry, but I'm in my late thirties. When I was younger and used to go out with my husband a lot, we were a couple of hot young things who always got plenty of attention. Then something terrible seemed to happen around the age of 33 and we vanished off the radar. Nobody looks at guys our age in a sexual way. At the gym, on holiday, in bars - we ceased to exist. I've never really understood that because I've always been attracted to older men. The mid thirties are a funny time for a gay man; I'm no longer a twink, but neither am I mature enough to pass for a daddy. And then a third voice is telling me I shouldn't have to define myself by such labels anyway.

That's really where the character of Henry is too. He can't be bothered with the chase anymore and wasting time on guys who aren't worth the effort. He shares a lot of my middle-aged angst, though because of his massive tool he'll never be short of attention at the gym.
A lot of the stories in this book feature intergenerational sex in one way or another. That's not something I intentionally set out to deal with, but it's a theme that runs though my recent writing. Daddy Fuller, the story which bookends this collection with White Sheets, explores another older/younger relationship but this time from the perspective of the boy.
Story 2:    Man of The Hour

Kevin:  In "The Man of the Hour," we meet Oliver, a gay thrillseeker who cruises for married straight men at christenings. In the US, I've been to many christenings but have never met anyone that way. He winds up with the godfather and has sex with him outside the windows of the catering hall where the party is taking place. I have to ask, is there something extra thrilling about sex in consecrated places?

Thom: I suppose for some people there must be, but with this story I was exploring the motivation that some gay men have for wanting to have sex with "straight" men. I've known several guys who fixate on married men to the exclusion of any other kind of relationship. As if the "straightness" of the married man makes him a far more worthy sexual partner. The ideal for the christening angle came about earlier this year when I was attending a christening in York. I was bored out of my mind as we launched into the third lengthy hymn. As I looked around the church, from one handsome man to another - all dressed up in their best suits - my dirty mind began to wander.

Oliver goes on to have an hour-at-a-time affair with married Jonathyn. But we detect something sort of sad about him, as though he had always been chary of emotional commitment, and now he's developing a bit of a crush on a married man. You're married yourself, Thom, are you any harder to get than Jonathyn? Are you a heartbreaker like he is?
Thom:  I'm extremely hard to get; completely out of reach for a predator like Oliver. I've been in the same relationship for over 16 years. I'm actually quite old fashioned in my thinking towards marriage - it's the biggest commitment someone can make to another person, and it shouldn't be entered into lightly. Jonathyn and Oliver are fantasy figures, though they are both grounded in reality and inspired by real people, but the reality of situations like this is that people get hurt. Playing with other peoples emotions for a thrill is not something I would ever contemplate in real life. Originally the story was actually quite a bit longer than this, with a couple of none sex scenes in the middle where Oliver questioned his motivations further. I cut them because they didn't really add to the story and I just wanted to get on with the sex.  That’s what we’re here for.
Part Two of this exclusive interview coming soon.

BEDTIME STORIES will be available as an e-book from Amazon from 14th November 2011

Friday 4 November 2011

SHOW OFF Free E-book

Just over a week to go until the publication of my new collection Bedtime Stories.

To whet your appetite for the new book I've upload a brand new e-book in PDF format.

I'll also be posting an interview conducted by world famous author Kevin Killian, in which we discuss Bedtime Stories in great depth.  Look out for part one of this interview on-line in the next couple of days.  In the meantime click below to download and enjoy:


Friday 14 October 2011

NIGHT LIFE - an erotic story

In the run up to the publication of Bedtime Stories next months, I thought I'd get things started by posting a new story.  Enjoy.

Night Life

“You know what,” said the man, in his strong European accent. “If you come home with me tonight, I can give you something very special. It’s a real treat”
          The man was standing with his muscular legs spread on either side of the toilet bowl, offering me his huge, dark skinned dick.  I squatted in front of him.  His trousers lay in a dishevelled heap around his right ankle and his shirt hung loose from his shoulders, gaping to expose the taut muscle of his chest and stomach.  The bathroom stall was tiny and there wasn’t much room for either of us to move.  The light walls vibrated with the beat of heavy house music from the belly of the night club.
          “What kind of treat?” I asked, wrapping my fist around his meat.  The shaft was massive; I couldn’t even close my fingers around his girth.  I slipped back the hood of light brown skin to unveil a moist, dusty pink crown beneath.   I squeezed the shaft and a clear drop of precome oozed from his piss slit.  He gave a rumble of appreciation, the sound coming from deep inside his chest.
          “You only get the surprise if you come home with me,” he spoke in heavily accented English.  Very sexy.
          “Maybe I will,” I said.  “It depends how highly I rate you now.”  I flicked my tongue against his moist cock head, tasting his salty juice.  Nice.  He muttered something in words I didn’t understand.  I caressed his big shaft and opened my mouth over the head.
          His cock twitched as I swirled my tongue around the engorged flesh.  On demand, he began to ooze a river of savoury juice into my mouth.  I swallowed the sticky liquid, taking more of his length into my throat.  There was a potent, masculine scent to his skin.  I could smell the essence of his pubes as I drew nearer to the neatly trimmed bush.  The natural aroma of his body had been enhanced further by the sweat he had worked up on the dance floor.  The heady smell aroused me further.
          There was noise all around us; the base heavy beat of the music blasting on the dance floor, the voices of the men standing at the urinals outside, the noisy stream of the guy in the next cubical as he pissed hard into the toilet bowl.  The slurping sound of my mouth on the big guys cock was lost within the soundtrack of the club.
          As well a hefty cock, the man had a massive pair of balls.  Though his sack was drawn up tight into his groin, there was no mistaking the immense extent of the nuts it contained.  They sat impressively large in the palm of my hand.  It was rare to find a guy with such a nice sized dick, it was even rarer to find a worthy set of balls.
          His cock was leaking hard and fast.  He was worked up and ready to release the produce of that ample sack.  I jerked the base of his cock, coaxing him closer and closer to the inevitable.  His moan of pleasure reverberated at the back of his throat.  My mouth was stuffed, there was no way I could open or close any more than I was.  I worked his root and his balls with my hand and waited, feeling his cock swell harder.
          I felt the sudden surge of his dick and whipped him out of my mouth as he started to squirt.  He splattered my face with long streams of strong smelling spunk, blasting my cheeks, my brow, my eyelids.  I turned my head slowly from side to side, getting an even coat of his ropy seed.  I rubbed his dick across my face, squeezing the shaft for every drop that his nuts had to offer.  He moaned as the tremors began to subside and his legs quivered with the effort of emptying his sack.
          When he stepped back from me, a long trail of come was suspended from the tip of his cock to my chin.  He broke it with his fingers and raised them to his mouth, tasting the dying essence of his orgasm.  He slumped, his bare arse slapping hard onto the toilet seat.
          I wiped my face with tissue and straddled his lap in the cramped constraint of the stall, wrapping my arms around his neck.  I rested my head against his damp brow and the pair of us took a moment to catch our breaths.
          As well as being blessed with a well hung cock, he was a handsome fucker too.  He had stood out immediately among the other men on the dance floor.  He was tall; well over six foot.  I didn’t know yet where in the world he came from, but there was a dark, middle European cast to his features.  His hair was short and very thick; it swept back from his forehead in a heavy wave.  The colour was dark, nearly black.  Beneath the full line of his brow, his eyes were wide hazel pools that reflected all the heat and excitement of this Saturday night in a sleazy club.
          His mouth was broad and fleshly and there was a strong cast to his nose and jaw line.  His skin was the colour of creamy Italian coffee. 
          “Tell me,” I said.  “Are you really going to take me home tonight?”
          He grasped my arse through my tight black shorts and dug his fingers into the flesh, “There’s nothing I’d enjoy more.”
          “So what about that surprise?”
          “That’s for you to find out later.”
          I kissed him on the lips.  “Okay.  If you can wait until I finish work, I’ll come home with you.”
          “What time do you finish?”
          “We have two more acts and then it’s over.  I’ll probably be done around three.”
          He squeezed my arse, “I’ll be waiting.” He returned my kisses.
          “I’m Matt.  Matt Carr.  What’s your name?”
          Jozsef came from Hungary.  I learned later that he was living in the UK for six months while overseeing the opening of a new company office in Newcastle.
          I made arrangements to meet him in the basement bar when I had finished for the night.  I had to be careful leaving the bathroom.  If the management of Spurt found out I’d been fucking customers in the cubicles again I’d get the sack.  I was already on a final warning.
          I was so turned on.  After sucking the Hungarian hunk there was no time for my own relief.  Though my balls were set to blow, I had less than five minutes to get back to the dressing room, change into my next costume and get my arse up on the podium.  My cock bulged obscenely in the front of my tight leather hot pants as I hurried through the crowd.  Anonymous hands reached out of the swarming crowd to caress my naked torso.  I brushed each of the faceless gropers aside.  There was no time.
          I made it to my dressing table and changed into the next costume in less than twenty seconds.  Skinning off the tiny pants, I climbed into an even tinier black g-string and a pair of white, tasselled cowboy chaps.  I grabbed my white cowboy hat and hit the stage right on cue.
          The audience of predominantly gay men went wild as I took to the stage with the rest of the topless cowboy troupe and launched into our routine.  There were five other guys sharing the spotlight.  We were all aged between 20 and 25 and were the most perfect examples of gym constructed youth.  We writhed and stretched and kicked our way through the choreographed routine with arched backs and grinding torsos.  It was my favourite section of the show, when I got to ride around the stage on the back of a hunky Welsh boy called Billy, slapping his bare arse as he bucked beneath me.  I’d always had a yearning to explore Billy’s arse in more private surroundings, but the two of us had yet to get it on together.
          I wasn’t losing sleep over it.  When you dance in the chorus of a naked revue in the city’s busiest night club, there was never a shortage of available butts to explore.  There would be time enough for Billy later.  For that night, my desire was directed all towards Jozsef.
          After the cowboy routine we changed straight into more black leather for the finale of the show.  The last act of the night was an S&M fantasy in which all the guys carry out a choreographed fight scene, battling each other for sexual domination.  The climax comes with the three victorious masters “topping” the weaker men.  I got to play one of the bottoms and act out something of a rape fantasy.  A couple of times my dance partner, Rhys, had tried to top me for real right there on the stage.  So far I’d managed to stop him from getting his meat into me but he swore that one night he would slip right in there.

True to his word Jozsef, was waiting for me in the bar.  The basement of Spurt was more relaxed and chilled; a place for sweaty clubbers and burned out party boys to calm down after the excesses of the night.  I had changed into loose combat trousers and a clingy black t-shirt.  Jozsef smiled and held out a drink to me.
          “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” I said, sliding onto the sofa beside him.
          “Why not?”
          “Well I’ve sucked your cock already.  I thought you might have found someone else to round off the evening with.”
          “But that’s where you’re wrong,” he said stroking my thigh with his huge, brown hand.  “You sucked my cock and got a faceful of my come.  But that’s not all I want from you.”
          I slid up close as he fondled my crotch.  My dick was still aching.  After the eroticism I had acted out on stage, I was feeling even more frustrated.  Dancing could make me as horny as fucking.  Jozsef squeezed the swollen head through the fabric of my pants.  “So what do you want?” I asked, chewing on his salty ear lobe.
          “I told you, I have a surprise for you.”
          I pressed my damp groin against his palm.  “What is it?”
          He squeezed harder.  “Do you really want to know?  That would spoil the surprise.”
          The things that he was doing to my cock were amazing.  I was right on the edge of coming.  I unfastened the front of my pants and gave him complete access to my pole.
          “Tell me,” I gasped.
          He kneaded the swollen tissue.  “In my apartment,” he said, “Lying in my bed right now, is my young cousin.  His name is Andreas.  He’s staying with me for a couple of weeks.  The little guy is only eighteen.  His mother thought it would do him good to see England.” 
          He was jerking faster.  He just about had me there.
          “I would love to see the two of you play together,” Jozsef said, “Are you still interested now that I’ve spoiled the surprise?”
          My cock erupted in a glorious blaze of whiteness that saturated the big man’s hand.  He worked my tool firmly as the orgasm intensified, subsided and at last died.  He raised his come soaked fingers to my mouth and I lapped up the runny ball juice.
          “Yeah,” I gasped.  “I’m definitely interested.”
          My come always tastes stronger to me than that of other men.  I diligently licked his palm and fingers clean.  We sank back into the sofa and kissed, my cock still poking out of the front of my pants, unwilling to soften.  I pressed my tongue into Jozsef’s mouth and savoured the taste of beer and cigarettes on his breath.
          At last our lips parted and Jozsef guided me to my feet.  “Come on,” he said, “It’s time for you to meet my little cousin.”

It was after four when we reached Jozsef’s seventh floor apartment.  Soft light shone from beneath the bedroom door.  The boy was awake.  He lay stark naked on top of the bed, the covers kicked onto the floor.  He lay on his stomach, presenting his bare arse as we entered the room.
          I’ve never really been interested in twinks but this young cutie was very desirable.  There was a mischievous twinkle in his dark brown eyes as he looked back over his shoulder.  The boy didn’t look like he was very tall, but he was blessed with the same coffee coloured skin as his uncle.  His hair was shaved into a short crop and there was a fine dusting of dark fuzz on the back of his legs and arse.
          The boy rolled over onto his back and revealed that he was blessed with the same endowments as his cousin.  That massive cock and huge balls were obviously an endowment which ran in the family genes.  When he grinned, the boy’s cheeky smile was bracketed by two deeply etched dimples.
          “I wanted to wait up for you.” he said to Jozsef, in heavily accented English.  “You said you would bring home something nice for me.”
          Jozsef smiled.  “I have.  This is my friend Matt.  I brought him home to play with you.”
          Andreas opened his arms and Jozsef gave me an encouraging shove forward.
          “What are you waiting for?” said the older man, “Take your clothes off and play with the boy.”
          I stood at the foot of the bed and stripped; devouring the body of the boy with my eyes as I dropped my clothes to the floor.  Andreas had a smooth chest that was beginning to fill out with muscle, but was not yet fully developed.  Given a year or two to mature, his pretty boy looks would develop into a more sophisticated kind of beauty.  He would soon be just as well built and god-like as his cousin.
          As soon as I was naked, Andreas was upon me.  He rolled over to the edge of the bed on his hands and knees.  He gave me a knowing wink as he went down on my hard cock.  He may only have been young but he definitely had experience when it came to taking a mouthful.  I wondered whether he had been practising on big cousin Jozsef.
          The older man pulled a chair to the side of the bed, granting himself a ringside seat to the action.  I wondered how far this scenario would go.  Was Jozsef content to merely sit it out and watch his young charge go at it with a go-go dancer, or did he intend to take a more active role in the action?  For the moment, I was willing enough to go with the flow.
          There was something unthinkably perverse about seeing such an angelic face stuffed full of cock.  The kid’s cheeks bulged as he swallowed it down to the fat base.  His jaw was stretched wide and his nostrils flared with the effort of breathing.  My cock in no way measured up to the dimensions of his cousin, but neither was it lacking in length or girth.  I’d seen loads of older, more experienced cock suckers struggle to fit it all in.  Maybe European guys were more accustomed to choking on bigger, fatter dicks.  Andreas made it look effortless.
          He yanked my balls as he sucked and pressed his fingers into my sensitive underside.  My cock jerked inside his throat.  He slurped enthusiastically as he bobbed back and forth on the length of flesh.  I pulled out just as I was about to come.  The look of disappointment passed quickly from his face as my cock spurted full on.  Hot come spattered against his radiant face in long ropy bursts; the colour seemed even more brilliantly white against his sultry complexion.  The boy smiled; spunk dripping down his cheeks and off his chin.
          Bending down to kiss him, I explored his face with my lips, gorging myself on my own come.  The boy murmured some words of encouragement in his native tongue and then his lips sought mine.  Our kisses intensified.
          Wrapping my arms around his body, I lay down on top of him.  Between passionate kisses, he encouraged me with words that I did not understand.  My lack of comprehension made little difference; his willing body spoke to me in a more understandable language.  His cock was pressed tight between our bellies and it was leaking hard and fast.  My own cock was defiant and refused to soften in the wake of orgasm.
          “Why don’t you fuck him?” said Jozsef.  He knelt at the side of the bed and ran his hand gently down the curve of my back.  “Fucking is what the little guy likes best.”
          “Oh yes,” Andreas agreed, “Please fuck me.”
          Kneeling on the bed, between his legs I rolled his knees up to his chest.  The boy grabbed hold of the back of his thighs and lifted his arse higher.  His arse was as ripe and juicy as a peach.  The skin of his crack was a delicious honey brown in colour.  Deeper in the cleft, the shades became darker until my eyes reached the centrepiece; his magnificent, chocolate brown pucker.  The shinny orifice was surrounded by a short cluster of black hair.  I had to kiss his rim and discover the promise of that deep brown hole for myself.  I ate his arse with a passion.  The boy groaned as I worked my way around his rim with a tender trail of kisses.  I circled my tongue around the hole and felt his flesh quiver as I probed the orifice softly.  I loosened him up with my mouth, preparing his tight sphincter for the advent of my dick.  His arse had a rich, savoury flavour.  I tasted the hole and inhaled the scent of his skin and hair.
          I sucked my index finger until it was soaked in salvia and pressed the tip to the heart of Andreas’ arse.  His anus opened like a little mouth and the tip of my finger vanished into the dark chasm.  He lifted his arse higher and my finger disappeared all the way to the knuckle.  I wriggled my finger within the tight restriction of that ring of muscle and the kids cock twitched.
          I slipped another finger inside him and started to open up his arse.
          Jozsef perched on the edge of his chair, watching us intently.
          “Your cousin has a nice arse,” I said.
          Jozsef smiled.  “Wait until you are really in there.  Then you will discover how nice an ass it is.”
          Andreas’ eyes twinkled brightly as he gazed into my face.  “Yes,” he said breathlessly, his top lip shining with sweat, “Don’t just use your fingers.  Stick your cock in me.”
          Jozsef tore open a sachet of lube.  He sat on the edge of the bed and, gripping the shaft of my cock in one hand, started to massage the lube over my meat, fisting my cock until it was nice and slick.      
          Andreas angled his hips to give me a clear run at his arse.  I pushed gently against his ring, the tight muscle popped and suddenly I was inside.
          The boy murmured something that I did not understand.  He held his arms open to me.  I lay across his chest and he wrapped his limbs around my shoulders and waist.  I fucked his young arse slowly, afraid that I would hurt him.  I moved gently inside him, moving back and forth by only the slightest fraction.  The texture of his inner arse was like a tight, velvet lined cave.  His mouth locked onto mine and we kissed with wild abandonment.  As I fucked his arsehole, his tongue invaded my mouth.
          Jozsef joined us on the bed.  His big hands caressed the small of my back as my butt pumped up and down.  He smacked my rump with a firm hand. 
          “Fuck him harder,” Jozsef said, “The young pup knows how to take it.”
          “Yes,” the younger man agreed, sensing my reservation, “I want it hard.”
          “Don’t worry about hurting his ass,” Jozsef said softly, “He’s used to it all right.”
          I increased the pace and depth with which I was fucking him.  My arse moved up and down with long, fluid strokes.  The boy gasped and tightened his arsehole around my cock.  He dug his fingers into my hair and clawed my scalp in his excitement.  I gripped his arse with both hands and held him tight, feeding him my cock with violent enthusiasm.
          Jozsef was down between my thighs.  His big hands parted my buttocks and he divided the attention of his mouth between my sweaty arsehole and my ample ball sack.  He tongued the root of my cock as it appeared and disappeared in the willing orifice of his charge.
          Andreas was wet.  His whole body radiated with a salty sheen of sweat.  He writhed wildly beneath me, lifting his arse off the bed and into my hands.  Jozsef’s fingers were inside my own hole, diving deep, working my passage.
          The boys arse suddenly gripped my cock tighter, it began to pulsate and I felt the warm flood of come against my belly as he shot his load.  His entire body trembled and he gasped for breath.
          Jozsef’s hands grabbed me around the waist and he lifted me effortlessly up and out of his cousin’s arse.  He flipped me over and tossed me down onto my back.  My body was a toy in his possession.  He spread my legs and lifted my arse high.
          “All right buddy,” he said with a grin, “it’s my turn to get some ass.”
          He was already lubed up.  He entered me slowly.  He was huge and even the tip was hard for me to take.  I relaxed my arse and let him slide all the way in.  I felt like I had a fist inside me.  But I wanted this so badly.  There was no pain, just an all consuming desire to be part of this monster.  He started to thrust.
          Andreas lay down beside me and caressed my body as his cousin screwed the living daylights out of my hole.  The boy gently stroked my heavily leaking meat.  I renounced all self control and became completely submissive to the control of the two men.  With each inward thrust of that big Hungarian dick, my insides became unglued.  It felt as if he was reaching right up there into my stomach.
          Now it was my turn.  The young boy jerked my cock and I shot off one brilliant white arch of come after another.  It blasted right up over my stomach and hit me on the neck and chin.  My arsehole gripped the big man’s cock so tight as I came that there was no way he could prevent himself from joining me.
          His body heaved and quivered with the final effort and suddenly the cock inside my arse was erupting.  I felt each long spurt of his dick as it swelled and discharged inside my bowel.  The big man grinned.  He was buried to the hilt.
          When it was all over, it was almost as great an effort to take his cock out of my arse as it had been getting it in there in the first place.  I lay still, gazing up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.  Jozsef lit a cigarette.  Andreas rubbed my semen into my skin.
          “This is good for you,” he said.
          You were good for me,” I said, kissing his upturned brow.
          “You’re not going to go home now, are you?” the young boy asked.
          “Not if you don’t want me to.”
          The two Hungarian’s exchanged knowing glances and smiled.  Andreas wriggled his fingers underneath my arse and pressed them inside my loose hole.  “No way,” he said, “Now I want to get some ass.”