Cruising Through History

Cruising Through History


Price: $6.99


Since the beginning of man, the unfolding of history has been dominated by the forces of conquest, seduction, and lust. And the pursuit of man by man, although mostly carried out in whispers and in the shadows, is as ancient and constant as history itself. This is a cruise through history in twenty-two short stories, careening from a brash assault on the gates of a Chinese brothel by an adventuring, demanding West to the shores of Tripoli, from an American Revolutionary War colonel’s tent to the brutal dawn ravishment at Pearl Harbor—and even on to alien visitation and into outer space itself. Herein you will discover a fast and furious journey of varied and unique tales, touching down capriciously here and there in unexpected places and events in time where men seek out other men for conquest and pleasure. You will be entertained and heated up to the fantasy and treachery and the triumph and glory of the passion one man can have for another—and the sometimes dire, sometimes fully satisfying consequences, that can have in the pursuit of that passion—down through the ages.

PUBLISHED BY: eXcessica publishing
CATEGORIES: Anthology, Erotica, Historical, ManLove

EBOOKS BY eXcessica publishing


COPYRIGHT habu/2008

Rob turned his head toward the open flap of the tent. He could see the tawny fringe of the Shewan subchief’s buckskin jerkin at the fringe of the lamplight escaping the tent’s doorway. And the two eagle’s feathers sticking out to the side of the back of the native’s head, up at the very top of the tent doorway. The savage must be at least six and a half feet tall, Rob thought. And he knows. How could he not know. The colonel was grunting that unmistakable sound of full rut.

Rob twitched and arched his back and stared straight up at the play of the shadows on the ceiling of the tent as the colonel nipped his belly button and stuck his tongue in it and then slurped out of the indention and ran a thick tongue down Rob’s underbelly and into a fiery red thicket before tracing back up his engorged cock to the edge. Rob twitched again as his cock was possessed by the colonel’s sucking lips. He sighed and rubbed his back on the bearskin rug thrown out over the rushes that served as the colonel’s mattress. There was a faint rustling at the opening flap of the tent, and Rob knew that the savage was just beyond the opening, listening and silently observing. The colonel thought no more of an Indian, even a Shewan subchief, than he did of the stray dogs of the camp, though, so it bothered him not a twit if the Indian could see them.

The shadows on the ceiling showed the hulky colonel hunched over his diminutive, lithe aide. Rob was kneeling on his knees on the colonel’s beefy thighs, with his back arched behind him, his shoulder blades touching the silky fur of the robe. The colonel encased his young aide with an arm wrapped around the small of the younger man’s back. His other hand was cupping Rob’s small, but firm ball sacs and the small finger of that hand already had purchase just inside the rim of Rob’s ass. The golden crest ring on that finger was rubbing roughly on Rob’s rim, a familiar feel for Rob after four months of service under the second in command of Brigadier General Nicholas Herkimer, commander of American forces in the Mohawk Valley.

Colonel Seth Hampton worked his young aide’s cock hard with his mouth. He’d already been sucked into arousal himself. His evening invigoration had been interrupted by the announcement that one of his spies in the English forces, the subchieftain Otetiani of the Shewan minor tribe of the Iroquois nation, had arrived and awaited his pleasure. Hampton had irritably commanded that the savage stand outside the tent until it was his pleasure to receive him—his pleasure obviously was focused elsewhere at the moment.

Hampton having had enough of his young man’s cock, the young aide watched the shadows on the ceiling swirl into a new pattern, as the colonel wrapped large, callused hands around Rob’s ankles and forced his legs up the length of his body. In the process, Rob was rolled up onto his shoulder blades. The colonel held Rob’s legs to his body with hands pressing in under the crook of his knees, as the older man savaged the younger man’s entrance with tongue and teeth and a heavy helping of saliva.

Then the colonel was up on his knees, crouching over the young man and thrusting inside him. Rob arched his back and spread his arms wide, digging his fists into the soft, grass-covered ground of the New York valley and took what the colonel was giving him, like a good soldier…


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