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The Facialist

The Facialist By Mykola Dementiuk

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ISBN: 9781611523478
PRICE: $5.99

GENRE: Gay / Bisexual Historical Erotica
LENGTH: 41,766 words
RATING: flame rating 4

It’s New York City in the 1950’s when Timmy discovers his own sexuality. But he’s aroused by men and women, which confuses him. Then Timmy meets Dickie, who likes to take young men under his wing and teach them the arts of fellatio, and Dickie's current young protégé, Shelly.

But Dickie is abusive, much like the men who have used Timmy for their own sexual release since he was a child. His attraction turns to Shelly, but who wants nothing to do with him.

Timmy is also seduced by an older Polish woman, an acquaintance of his mother’s. Confused by his own desires, Timmy returns to his favorite activity -- cruising the pathways of Tompkins Square Park.

Will Timmy accept his sexuality without fear or shame? Or does he risk losing himself to his own hungry desires?

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

    We sat on a couch, staring at the dreary, uncovered window. I remember he wore glasses he had to continuously push up from his nose since they kept sliding down. But where did my audacity come from when I reached up and slipped his glasses off his face? Did I have enough of seeing them slide off his face and what did I intend to do? Our lips met in an open-mouthed kiss, which was more than just a kiss, but a sucking and swallowing of the other.

    He took my hand and drew me into another small, cluttered room, where an unmade bed awaited us. I realized all my clothes were off except my socks. He also was half-naked; a T-shirt on top and nothing on the bottom, with his stiff penis swaying before him. He led me to the bed, but he did nothing to keep me there, merely lay there at my legs, his face inches from my dick.

    I shrugged, looked down at him and stroked my penis, expecting him to take it in his mouth. But he stared hungrily at me, licking his lips a few times and nudging his face closer. I continued to pull my skin slowly up and down, and I saw his mouth open and lower to my balls, kissing and nibbling my scrotum. I was ready to cum, knowing my seed would spill out onto the bed. I circled the top of my penis with my thumb and index finger, entrapping the heady boiling scum from spilling out. The enclosed spasms rocked my body, but I held my scum in, not knowing what I would do with it.

    I looked at the man who had by then swallowed my two balls and was laying there with his eyes closed. I nudged him.

    “I’m ready,” I said, looking down at my entrapped balls, and holding in my scum.

    The man opened his sleepy eyes as if coming to, letting the sucked-in balls pop out of his mouth -- one by one -- as he stared up at me. I moved my penis to his lips and let go of the entrapped fluid, letting the scum spill itself out onto his tongue and teeth, and he greedily and readily swallowed everything. Then I realized I should have cum in his mouth and not let him lay there swallowing my wasted, lifeless scum. That would have been exciting, I thought.

    I nudged him again. “I have to go, it’s getting late,” I said. My softened, wet penis plopped out of his mouth. He licked his lips and looked sadly at me, scum still dribbling down his face. Incredible how morose and different he looked without his glasses.

    “Can’t you stay just a little longer,” he quietly said.

    I bit my lips and shook my head. “No, have to go.”

    He sighed and pushed himself up out of bed. I blushed when I saw that his penis was still hard and very big. I looked away. In the kitchen, I heard the rain beating against the windows.

    He reached for his glasses and draped them around his face, immediately appearing more like himself. “It’s raining,” he said, nodding towards the window. “And a lot, too.”

    I shrugged, slipping my underwear on. “Yeah, looks that way.” My T-shirt went on as the man sat in the couch, rubbing and stroking his hard cock. I reached for my pants and sat down to slip them on my legs.

    “Please, don’t go,” he whispered, and held his bright red cock gripped in his fist. “You’re so nice to be with. I know other boys, but, you know, you’re so sweet.” He blushed and smiled at me. I awkwardly smiled back at him. We looked at each other and he let go of his penis. The muscle still stood erectly as if pleading for a touch. I reached out and nervously circled my fingers around the stiff shaft. It seemed very natural and normal. I squeezed, feeling the warmth and eagerness in my palm, lowering it and instantly raising it back up. I was jerking him off, as I had done a few times before with men, but this seemed very curious and interesting. Perhaps it was the dark rainy day. He groaned and his eyes were clenched tightly as his face grimaced then I felt it, the semen shooting up his cock and exploding out of the frantic muscle. I was amazed; I had never felt anything like it before and I didn’t want to let go of it. His scum shot out and dribbled on my hand, streaking it with an explosive coolness that was the opposite of what I expected. Then I smelled it -- morning dew again, that’s the only way to describe it.

    “Oh, man,” he fluttered. “Whew, that was awesome. I really like it when someone else jerks me off. Absolutely divine!”

    I still held onto his wet penis and felt it weakening in my hand. We looked at each other and embarrassed, I let go. We both sighed and he smiled. I nervously smiled back at him and wiped my wet palm on the couch. He saw me and again I reddened. I shrugged and almost at the same time, he shrugged too.

    “We’re birds of a feather,” he said, smirking at me, pushing back his glasses. “We do everything together. We even think alike. You know what that says?”

    I quizzically looked at him. “No, what ...?”

    “That we’re a pair, nothing can separate us. We were made for each other.”

    I pulled up my pants and reached for my shirt. “You think so?” I said, buttoning up and slipping on my shoes.

    “I know so,” he answered, nodding his head. “You’re just like me, you like cock.”

    It was as if a spasm went through me; accusing me of the truth I didn’t want to hear. I like cock. As a matter of fact, I love cock!

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