Sexy triathletes; fifth excerpt from “Dream Boy” ….

triathlete #4Hi, friends and readers:

Ever attended a triathlon? I have a few times and I can tell you the sights are nothing less than spectacular. The guys wear little more than Spandex singlets and Speedos, and they’re all in great shape. I have a lot of respect for triathletes. The training is rigorous; it requires a great deal of self-discipline. Now, some some people wouldn’t find the guys in today’s photo posts attractive. Some might say their muscles are too stringy. But I think both guys are gorgeous. Yummy!

I’m back from a brisk, three-mile walk on the beach. I had to bundle up because the breeze was blowing the the temperature was in the mid-50’s, chilly by central Florida standards. I enjoyed the walk nonetheless. The sun was shining and the Gulf’s color was greenish.

triathlete #2I’m devoting my day to yard work and cleanup around here. I know that doesn’t sound like much fun, but I actually enjoy that sort of work when the weather’s cool and sunny. I need to replace the much in our patio plants beds, trim shrubs and rake leaves. If the breeze stops blowing I might take a ten-mile bike ride too.

Okay, I’m posting excerpt number five from my short story titled Dream Boy. The story appears in my anthology titled Flawed Boys. As always, the story comes to you with a caveat: Dream Boy contains explicit content involving sexual activity between adult gay males. If this sort of thing offends you then you shouldn’t read excerpts from Dream Boy. 


Dream Boy, copyright Martin Delacroix 2013

I showered first, and then Riley took his turn while I walked through the house, turning off lights and locking doors. I placed a towel and a bottle of lube on the nightstand in my bedroom, lit a candle. After closing the drapes, I punched the pillows and turned down the covers.

Riley emerged naked from the bathroom. A cloud of steam followed him and his cock wagged as he moved.His damp hair reflected light from a reading lamp mounted on the wall above my headboard. I let my gaze travel over Riley’s slender physique, and my belly fluttered at the thought of touching him.

Still, I had no idea of what might lay ahead.

After sitting on the edge of the mattress, he placed both hands between his knees. Then he hunched his shoulders. Already, he trembled.


He looked up at me.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Sex is supposed to be pleasurable, not an ordeal. Any time you want to stop, just say so and we will.”


When I switched off the reading lamp, the room seemed to shrink. The candle’s glow was our only source of light now, and the flame reflected in Riley’s eyes. When I stroked his earlobe with a finger, he shuddered.

“Are you cold?” I asked.

He shook his head while shifting his weight on the mattress. “I’m nervous,” he said.

“Don’t be. You’re safe with me; you know that don’t you?”

He nodded, keeping gaze fixed on the carpet.

“Ever had a back rub?”

He shook his head.

“Lie down on your stomach, face in the pillows.”

He did, and then I placed a hand on the back of his thigh. His skin was as smooth as a child’s and his buttocks looked like a pair of melons as white as cream. I squeezed
one cheek, then the other, and he seemed okay with it. But when I fingered the cleft between them, Riley shifted his hips. He balled his hands into fists on either side of his

“When Neil and I had sex, he used to . . . .”


“Fuck me. Do you plan on doing that?”

I let out my breath and shook my head. No wonder this kid’s screwed up.

“Right now,” I said, “I don’t have any plans, other than massaging your back.”

I straddled Riley at his waist, and my knees dug into the mattress. I kneaded the muscles between his neck and shoulders, working my thumbs and fingertips into his skin, drawing a groan from Riley. I kept it up a few minutes before switching to his head. I sank my fingers into his damp hair, and then I massaged his scalp, using my fingertips. I worked the area above his ears and also the back of his neck.

Riley groaned again. “That feels nice, Keith.”

Already, my cock was stiff as a broom handle. It bobbed before me. My thoughts spun. Could a relationship between Riley and me work? He was emotionally disturbed, and
with good reason. But did I want to deal with his problems? Moreover, given his past, could Riley ever become the lusty Dream Boy I’d always wanted?

I moved to his shoulder blades, massaged them with my thumbs. As minutes passed, I felt the tension in Riley’s body lessen, as though he were a spring uncoiling. He turned his head to one side on the pillow. Then he parted his lips and candlelight reflected in his front teeth. I moved to Riley’s middle back and used the heels of my hands to make circles, pressing down with the weight of my upper body, drawing grunts from Riley.

“Feel good?” I asked.

“M-m-m . . . h-m-m.”

Again, I used the heels of my hands to work his lower back, first at the base of his spine, and then to either side of it.

“This is really nice,” Riley said. “How’d you learn?”

I cleared my throat. “My ex-boyfriend was a massage therapist.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. “Did you live with him?”

“Three years.”

“What happened?”

“He . . . found someone more exciting.”

“I guess that happens a lot with gay men, huh? It’s all about sex.”

I didn’t answer Riley. Instead, I parted his legs. I knelt between them and worked his buttocks, kneading and squeezing, while admiring his buff-colored cleft. But when I stroked his pink pucker with a fingertip, he jerked. He sucked air through his teeth and clenched his ass cheeks. Then he reached behind himself; he seized my wrist and
pulled my hand away.

“What is it?” I said.

“No one’s touched me there since . . . .”

“Riley, I’m not Neil.”

“I know, but leave that spot alone—for now at least.”

Looking at the ceiling, I shook my head. Back off, Reinhardt. His hole’s clearly off limits.


All right, guys, that’s all from Dream Boy for today. I hope you’re enjoying the story. I’ll post another excerpt tomorrow. In the meantime, have a great Saturday.

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