Entered into for convenience, the marriage had grown into one of true love and devotion that had lasted 60 years. But Daniel Harrigan’s wife was gone now and little connected him to this life. His career in academic folklore had wound up. His family had grown away from him since his wife’s passing. He wondered now if it was too late to finally feel the forbidden touch.
These were the thoughts Daniel sought escape from in his study when, on his desk, he found a book with a plain cover he had no recollection of. Confused, he opened it at random and came across a painting. Appearing to be late medieval to early renaissance, it depicted a hall filled with people…not just people, men, some hairy, some with flat noses, with robes and with pointed teeth, doing all manner of things with and to each other.
And two sat above it all. One was dressed in purple and as Daniel studied the details of his face and muscles he felt his back creak. He had involuntary arched his ass out. The other man was young and dressed in a pink Daniel thought impossibly vibrant for the painting’s era. When Daniel saw the young man’s smile he felt his heart laid bare.
Daniel glanced at the title: “The Étrad Sídhthe Hold Court.” He read on.
Mitch is Harry’s cousin from Kentucky, and he’s just in time for election season. The only problem is, he seems a little confused about Canada’s political color scheme.
Sean’s served up a platter of just desserts to his tormentor, Spencer. But a little omission made by his friend quickly turns everything upside down for the promising warlock.
So, I’m a university student in the cinema society. Every week, several of us meet to watch films. Normally they’re quite sophisticated, but recently we’ve only been watching dumb films with a bro-ish sense of humour. We just don’t understand the films we used to watch anymore. What’s happening to us?
Hey Purple Fairy!
I met my husband in college when we were both pretty young and newly out. He was a hot little track star and I was an up and comer on the football team. But, we both loved the outdoors and after a few perfect weekends together it was evident to both of us that we belonged together. I loved his fresh, lean body and boyish charm.
I’ve always been a big guy: 6’3” and muscular from my years of lifting weights. Puberty hit me early and hard, making me well hung and nicely furry to boot. So when I met Tad it was fun exploring his tight, smooth body and cute little 5” dick.
Ten years later we are still in love, but I guess I had always expected that Tad would…I don’t know…mature a bit along the way. My buff college frame is still in great shape, but I’m a bit broader and my face has a few extra lines. But Tad is just as boyish and twinky as he was the day I met him.
I don’t want to change who Tad is, but part of me is slightly bored with being the only “manly” one in the relationship. Always lifting the heavy bags, always expected to do the manual chores…always being the top.
One of my friends is getting married soon, so we took it upon ourselves to plan a bachelor party for him. We wanted to celebrate the fact that he was finally getting hitched — to be honest, we were really starting to doubt he ever would — as well as have one last blow-out together as bachelors.
We found this resort. It was out in the middle of nowhere, but it billed itself as “the Last Paradise of Single Men,” and we thought that there would be no better place to go for his bachelor’s party. The airfare was surprisingly cheap, and the per-night rate of the hotel was pretty much a steal. We were all more than happy to go on a party that wouldn’t break our banks.
When we got to the resort, we realized that they hadn’t lied on their webpage. There wasn’t a single woman in sight. Everyone, from the guests that were lounging around in the lobby, to the staff that were assisting new visitors, was male. And every single one looked like a veritable god, wearing tight t-shirts and speedos that showed off their enviable endowments.
Maybe that should have been a warning. A red flag that something wasn’t right here. But we were high on the idea of a great vacation and we checked in without a worry on our minds. Now, I’m not so sure. My friends, they’ve changed, and I’m afraid that I’m next.
Hey… I wanna become a cowboy stripper but I’m not sure what to wear, what to say, or even how to act. I know it sounds strange but it’s my passion.
Hey Pink Fairy, my roommate is a complete asshole and I need your help. We’re both seniors living in the athletic dorm on campus. John’s in football while I’m a gymnast. Most of this year the situation has been good but not great. I’m out and John has made it clear that he’s not all that cool living with a gay guy. Mostly his animosity was limited to muttered remarks, snide comments, and jokes whispered to his other football buddies.
Until last week.
Unbeknownst to me, John used his webcam to secretly record me enjoying some “alone time” in the room jerking off. Now look, I’m a healthy, fit, red-blooded young guy who enjoys sex with myself as much as I enjoy it with another guy. And I kinda get into it, moaning, playing with my nips, fingering myself, sometimes even feeling up my own muscles. Anyway, that day happened to be a major session where I went all out and finished with a loud, powerful orgasm.
When John saw what he had captured he wasted no time in showing it to his buddies who, in turn, encouraged him to post it to our campus social media. Five minutes after that I was a laughing stock. Everywhere I went people pointed and laughed. I went into the student union and felt a cold chill run down my spine when I heard my own lusty moaning coming out of some guy’s phone. I ran back to the dorm, only to find John and his buddies hanging out in our room laughing. I had nowhere to go…and I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
Pink Fairy, we need to take this asshole down. Will you help me?
With a little bit of help from his chemistry professor, Axel finds out what being a teacher’s pet really means.