TakeThis Man (3rd collection of excerpts from) short stories edited by Neil Plakcy

A collection of romantic erotica focused on male couples in committed relationships. Edited by Neil Plakcy, Take This Man takes a close look at how much sexier an encounter can be when the two men involved have been together for long enough to matter.

Take This Man

Cleis Press (May 14, 2015)

Excerpt 3 from Take This Man

From “Homecoming” by Justin Josh

The look on Scott’s face was thinly disguised disappointment mixed with disgust. Perfect, I thought. The apartment was a total mess. I was dirty, unshaven (which Scott hated), and best of all, I wore a fat suit hidden beneath a full-length cotton robe. I looked terrible.

Scott stood in the doorway, shocked. He looked gorgeous, decked out in his spotless uniform with its gleaming gold buttons. He knew how much I loved the way he looked in full uniform. With his puppy-dog brown eyes framed with those thick eyebrows, he was irresistible.

I could only imagine what he must be thinking, coming home from Afghanistan after six months only to find his boyfriend dressed in a bathrobe before dinner and looking like he had gained a hundred pounds.

Scott loved practical jokes and this was big. Cruel, perhaps, but he deserved this for all the surprises he had pulled on me, and for telling me before he left that I was getting chubby, and most of all for teasing me about all the beautiful muscular men he was working with while in the army.

“Welcome home,” I said, hugging him. I could barely keep from laughing as he recoiled. “Sorry about the mess.” I waved at the carefully staged destruction of our small apartment. Dirty dishes and old food covered the tables and countertops. Soiled clothes were strewn across the couch and floor.

To his credit, Scott gulped, smiled weakly and kissed me. He began to fondle my body, clearly surprised at how much weight I had gained. I pulled away, feigning embarrassment.

“Later,” I said. “You just got home.”

Scott looked almost like he was going to cry. Had I gone too far?

“I can’t believe you didn’t clean up,” he said. “You knew I was coming.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I cooked for us. I made your favorite: lasagna and garlic bread. You go upstairs, take a shower and dress into something more comfortable. Give me an hour and I’ll get everything ready.”

“Okay,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me again.

He kissed me and grabbed my butt. Again, he looked at me strangely.

“You gained weight,” he said, neutrally.

I put on my best guilty face. “I’m sorry. I’ll lose it, I promise.”

“I’ve missed you Todd,” he said.

“Me too.”

He nodded, turned and walked upstairs.

I nearly laughed out loud. Poor Scott! He had no idea that beneath my fat-suit was my new finely-sculpted muscular body. He was right. I had been getting chubby. So right after he left, I began working out on a daily basis. Not only did I lose my chubbiness, my muscles filled out quite nicely. I even had an actual six-pack. Scott was going to be so surprised.

From “Late Start” by Heidi Champa

“We’ve been together too long to still be in the honeymoon phase. We did all that seven years ago.”

He chuckled for a moment, before letting out a rattling cough, the remnants of a cold he’d been battling the week before. I was just about to ask him how he was feeling, but he didn’t give me the chance, his response dripping with sarcasm.

“God, you’re such a romantic, Cam. I don’t know how I’m supposed to stand it.”

“You know what I mean. It’s not my fault we couldn’t get married until a few months ago.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t act like newlyweds. Because, you know, sweetie, we actually are.”

“I promise when I get back, we’ll do something.”

“We could do something right now.”

He looked at me expectantly and it took everything I had to get the next words out. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Ben stared at me, his hand still moving around his cock, a little moan slipping past his lips before he spoke.

“Killjoy.”

I sipped my coffee and glanced at my watch. I really did have to leave. Technically, I should have already been on my way to the train station. It was so typical of Ben to try and distract me on a day like today. There he sat, on our giant sofa, bathed in the morning sun, every curtain in the loft wide open. Light bounced off the whitewashed brick walls, making everything glow. In the middle of it all was Ben, without a care in the world, his dark brown hair a mess, the glint in his eye making me reconsider my plans. For a moment, at least. The sky was the most gorgeous blue and I could hear the noise of the city getting louder as more and more people flooded onto the streets to start their day. Just like I was supposed to be doing. I repeated my words, but I said them more for me than for him.

“I really have to go, Ben.”

He sighed and ran his free hand up and down his thigh.

“So you said. Then go. Call me when you get to our nation’s capital.”

His words were flat, but I barely heard them. Mostly because Ben was making it hard for me to focus on anything but his hard dick. I looked at my watch, but I barely even saw the numbers. I knew I should just go. Then, Ben opened his mouth again.

“I’ll miss you, baby.”

His voice came out a bit husky, a trick he used when he wanted to get his way. The sound of it always drove me crazy, even after all these years. Which he knew, of course. He stretched an arm up into the air, his head coming to rest against the back of the couch. While I kept watching him, I found myself setting down my briefcase and loosening the knot on my tie. Ben smiled as I toed off my shoes on my way to the couch, careful to lay my suit jacket over the back of his favorite chair. I stood right in front of him and looked down at him, his hand still moving slowly up and down his dick.


Excerpt 3 from Take This Man

From “The Last Romantic Lover” by Logan Zachary

“Logan, blow out your candle and make a wish,” Jake, my partner, said as he poured me another glass of champagne.  

The waiter had just set down a huge piece of Black Forest cake in front of me with a single candle burning on it.  He stepped back, knowing full well not to sing Happy Birthday to me. 

The Black Forest restaurant wasn’t very busy for a midweek supper and birthday celebration, and I was glad.  I looked into Jake’s eyes and asked, “Jake, will you marry me?”

“Logan, you know until it’s legal …” Jake set the champagne bottle back in the table and picked up his bubbling flute.

I raised my glass to clink his.  “I don’t care what the government says.  I want to marry you, and a stupid piece of paper doesn’t make my feelings for you any different.  I love you, and I want to marry you.”  Our champagne glasses clinked.

“You want to drive down to Iowa and … ?”  He extended his fork to steal a bite of cake.

I nodded at him to help himself to the cake.  “You don’t understand.  I don’t care about some license or any silly documents.  I want a pastor to marry us.  In my heart, that’s all that matters, not a stupid document.”

“But if the paper doesn’t matter …”

“Never mind.  If you don’t want to marry me, that’s fine.”

“I didn’t say that.  I just don’t see why it matters so much to you.  You’re always such a rebel, you don’t seem like the one to follow any ancient heterosexual ritual.”

“I just want you to commit to me, and I want to commit to you.  Why is that so hard to understand?”

“It isn’t, but legally …”

“I don’t care what they say.  If I want to marry you, that’s all that matters to me.”

Jake took a big bite of cake.

“Fine, I won’t ask you again, but once it’s legal, you’ll have to ask.”

“Okay.”

“And I expect a ring, two month’s salary.”  I raised my champagne glass and saluted him before I drained it.  

“It’s such a nice place,” Mike said. He leaned across the bar and spoke in a low voice. “The smell is driving me crazy. I’m starving. How do you stand it?”

The chef did a tasting of the specials for the servers, and he had done a few of the classics for Mike to taste along with them, to get an idea of the whole menu. He said he had never eaten Ethiopian food, but he ate with enthusiasm and had spent much of the night suggesting dishes to customers before they even had a chance to decide.

“You eat before you show up for work,” Toby said, deadpan. Mike laughed, so he knew how to take a joke. He was going to get along well at Injera.

“The only thing I have in my fridge right now is beer,” Mike said. He turned away from Toby to glance around the room.

Mike was attentive and pleasant to be around. Toby couldn’t bring himself to complain about the constant questions. He was new. He had a lot to learn.

“What about you?” Mike asked, coming around the bar to grab the cloth and wipe it down for something to do. “Is your wife a good cook?”

It had been a long time since Toby had to come out to someone. He encountered people every day who didn’t know, but they didn’t always need to know. Mike would find out, and if he was still here when Azzo arrived to take Toby home, he would find out tonight.

“Husband,” Toby said, an easy correction.

Mike’s mouth fell open, almost comical, but his eyes were also wide, and Toby felt that old, familiar panic reaching up into his throat.

“That’s awesome,” Mike said. Toby didn’t think Mike could be any younger than he already looked. “I have so many questions, man. Where did you meet? How long have you guys been together? Is he hot?”

Toby laughed, but there wasn’t time for any of that, of course. As Mike was inching himself closer, Toby spotted a customer glancing around the room.

“Table  five,” he said. Mike jumped, and he was gone, completely professional once more. He would do well here, Toby decided. He would be a good kid to keep around.

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