All Chapters of FILTHY SHADES OF GAY: A Collection Of Raw MM Erotica : Chapter 71 - Chapter 75

I chuckled, dark and low. “I do own everything. Including this.” I palmed his bulge roughly. He gasped, hips jerking up despite himself. “And tonight you’re going to give it to me for free. Begging for it.”I ripped his tank off, buttons flying. His chest was smooth, nipples already tight. I sucked one into my mouth, biting hard enough to make him arch and curse. My hands worked his jeans open, shoving them down with his briefs. His cock sprang free— eight inches, flushed, leaking at the tip. Pretty. I wrapped a hand around it and stroked once, slow.“Fuck you,” Nico spat, but his voice cracked.I smiled against his skin. “That’s the plan.”I freed my own cock. Ten thick inches, heavy, veined, the head already glistening. Nico’s eyes widened. I saw the exact second his sass melted into raw hunger. I straddled his chest, knees pinning his arms, and fed him my dick. He opened up like he was starving—lips stretching wide, tongue flat, throat working to take every inch. I fucked his face

DIRTY SINS ONLY HAPPENS DURING HOLIDAYS 1I could barely sit still at the long mahogany dining table, the whole family crammed together like every Christmas and Easter before it. Grandparents at the head, aunts and uncles laughing too loud, cousins of every age passing plates of Nonna’s famous lasagna and roasted vegetables. Everyone was here — my parents, my little sister, even the distant relatives who only showed up when the wine flowed. And right across from me, laughing at some dumb joke from Uncle Sal, was Marco.My older step-cousin. Twenty-six now, three years older than me, built like a fucking linebacker from all those years playing college ball before he dropped out to work construction. Broad shoulders stretching his tight black button-down, dark stubble on a sharp jaw, and those same hazel eyes that had looked straight into mine three years ago when we’d locked ourselves in the pool house and sucked each other off for the first time. Step-family, no blood, but still fam

The call came in at 11:47 p.m— noise complaint, loud music and banging from apartment 4B. My partner, Detective Ryan Torres, and I were already on the late shift, so we took it. Ryan was 32, built like a linebacker with a permanent five-o’clock shadow and a smirk that made suspects nervous. I was 29, leaner but no less fit, and usually the one who did the talking.We knocked on the door. The music cut off instantly. Footsteps. Then the door opened.The man standing there was tall, maybe 6’4”, broad-shouldered, wearing nothing but low-slung gray sweatpants and a tight black tank top that showed off heavily inked arms and a sculpted chest. Dark hair, sharp jaw, piercing blue eyes. He looked us up and down slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips.“Officers,” he said, voice smooth and deep. “What can I do for you?”Ryan cleared his throat. “Noise complaint from your neighbor. Mind turning it down?”The man leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing, making his biceps flex. “My bad. Com