The second installment in the "Catherine's Toys" gay horror serial is out as of today!
Here's the blurb and a short excerpt. I thank all of you for the success of the first installment, and I hope you enjoy the continued insanity of "Catherine's Toys II".
Casey wants Catherine to accept his love for her.
Catherine wants the Russian dancer in the hospital's surgical wing.
Casey and Catherine both want Larry the security guard, but for very different reasons.
And neither reason bodes well for Larry.
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Casey hopped across the floor on one foot while trying to get the other damn shoe on.
"You look ridiculous." Catherine snarled.
The apartment's exterior wall stopped his one-legged kangaroo stroll. Elbow on the window ledge, he ran his index finger inside the back support of the shoe. The slip-on canvas shoe finally slipped on. Casey beamed in triumph.
"Will you hurry up? I need to get to work."
Casey stomped his freshly shoed foot on the carpeted floor. "You just want to find a man to have sex with."
"Yeah. So what? I'm horny. Women get horny too, Casey. It's not just some guy thing. That shouldn't be news to you by now. Gawd! It's been over two months since the last time, and then you fucked that one all up. I can't even remember the last time I came."
"The Russian dancer." He mumbled. "The one with the shoulder surgery."
"Myka." She purred the name. "Oh yeah. How could I forget him? What a chest! A little on the small side, but when he blew his load I thought he'd blow a hole out the back of my head."
"Aww. Is widdle Casey jeawous?"
"Maybe. A little."
But not for reasons he'd ever share with her. Myka was as lean as Larry, the hospital security guard. Probably as muscular too. Maybe. Their forearms looked a lot alike anyway.
He lowered his head, walked over to the white, iron-framed bed, and gazed at Catherine so neatly sprawled over the Asian lily duvet. "You could have sex with me." His voice a near whimper, he scowled at his inability to win her full affection. "I love you, Catherine. I'd do anything for you."
"Oh, Casey," she whispered in her throaty way. "I adore you. And I do love you, but the harsh reality is you don't turn me on."
He thrust his arms out wide. "What's wrong with me? What can I do to make you want me?"
Her tone went spilled cream flat and just as sour. "You don't have love handles, for chrissakes, you've got an inner tube with a hole in it. I like a man with abs, not one who looks like he gave birth last week. Get your butt in gear or I'll be late. You know how I hate being late."
Yeah. He knew all too well. She'd punished him before for his tardiness. But he really wanted her right now. And yeah, he wasn't one of those steroid-ridden freaks of nature, but the thought of Catherine with another man when he was here for her taking ate at his skin like termites on wood. He had to do something—he unzipped his jeans.
"Casey," she said, her voice stern. "We don't have time for this."
He opened the flap of his tighty whities and flopped out his limp dick. "You want to go fuck some other guy, fuck me first."
"I'm not kidding, Casey."
"Me either," he growled, and then smiled. He was actually standing up to her. His chest and confidence swelled.
"I said no."
"And I said yes." He fisted his dick, stroked the length of it. Blood raced into his pale white cock. The helmet flushed rose. By the sudden burning in his face, his cheeks no doubt matched his cockhead. "Fuck me or we can stay right here, and you'll miss work altogether."
"I'm not going to fuck you, so get that right out of your pigeon-sized brain." She sighed. "But I suppose I can make you come, if you promise to take me to work as soon as we're done."
"Deal." He threw back his shoulders in pride to display his victory.
"You little shit." She grabbed his growing erection. "You are so going to pay for this."