Farewell from the Bookshelf!

Please note that GLBT Bookshelf -- the community wiki which was the parent to this fiction blog -- went offline on May 31, 2016, after seven years' service to members.

All Gay Romance will remain online till the end of 2016 in order to give contributors every opportunity to recover materials uploaded here.

Many thanks to all who contributed over the years, and good luck to everyone in your future works!


Eight: Gay Erotic Stories by JM Snyder

Now Available!

Eight: Gay Erotic Stories
a new paperback collection by J.M. Snyder

Read a free story from the collection or buy your copy today!


Eight gay erotic short stories of lust and love, these tales are sizzling off the press! Here you'll find an unlikely couple stealing a quick tryst between sets at a drag show, college boyfriends spending a long weekend together on campus, a young man with a forbidden crush on his best friend's father, flamboyant neighbors, horny lovers, college roommates, and a petulant submissive with a latex fetish.

Check out these stories and take a wild romp through the wicked pages of some of J.M. Snyder's hottest, best-selling gay erotic fiction, collected together into one print volume for the first time in Eight!

The short stories in this collection are available separately as e-books, but are only available in print in this single-author paperback collection. Contains the following stories:
  • Money's Worth
  • Before the Show
  • My Best Friend's Dad
  • On the Down Low
  • Take It Outside
  • Windows
  • Fuck the Foreplay
  • Mastering Stefan
WIN A COPY: Send an e-mail to contest@jmsnyder.net with Eight as the subject and I'll draw one winner on Saturday, May 15th, to win a copy of the book!

NOTE: This collection is only available in print, so winners must be willing to provide a physical mailing address where the book can be sent. The contest is open to anyone anywhere in the world, so enter today!

From the story, "Windows" 

Because the light's on next door, I can see boxes stacked up in the center of the room, headboards propped against the wall, a mattress tossed carelessly onto the floor beneath the window. Every now and then Rudy comes into view, stepping onto the mattress and then out of sight again as he starts to unpack. I wonder if this will be their bedroom. I wonder why I care.

It doesn't take me long to get the rest of the paint off the window and just as I'm about to move onto the next one, I hear Bradley's voice drift up from the other house. He's so loud. "Rudy, darling," he says, and then he laughs, that magical sound that's begun to bring a smile to my lips whenever I hear it. I've decided I quite like that laugh. "You know that's not where I want that dresser to go."

Rudy says something indistinct and then Bradley laughs again. Against my better judgment, I pull the sheer curtains in front of the window and peek out between them. Down in the room below, Bradley steps up onto the mattress, tanned legs and thick arms and the broad expanse of his back just begging to be touched. By me, I think as Rudy comes up to him, rubs his hands down the bunched muscles in Bradley's arms. I don't need to be watching this.

But I can't turn away. I remind myself of the other window, the dishes in my sink, my bed, things I can be doing, should be doing, but I can't seem to turn away from the window. Rudy leans close to Bradley, whispers something that makes him giggle, and then starts to knead his lover's arms, his shoulders, his neck. "I think he's kind of cute," Bradley says in reply.

My breath catches in my throat. They're not -- God, I wish I could hear whatever it is Rudy says that makes Bradley turn around and glance at my house, up at me. They see me, I think wildly, and without thinking I cross the room and hit the switch to cut off the overhead light. My heart beats like a drum in the darkness, hard enough to bruise my ribs, they saw me. Saw me watching, and Bradley said what? I think he's kind of cute. Jesus Christ.

Go to bed now, Thom, my mind whispers even as I start towards the window again. They've got names for guys like you, watching your neighbors through the curtains. You want this kid to call the cops on your perverted ass? Just go to bed and forget all about him and his tight skin and his infectious laugh.

Only I can't, and this time I stand to one side of the curtain, out of sight. I pull the edge of the fabric away from the window just enough so I can see, and I promise myself one more look, that's it, just to see if they're still talking about me and then I'll go. I swear --

Bradley stands at the window now, hands on the sill in front of him, legs spread wide, head thrown back. Behind him, Rudy has his jeans down to his knees, his boxers open, working his dick hard with one hand. The other is in the front of Bradley's shorts, squeezing, stroking, I can feel that hand, it tugs at my own erection, rolls my own balls in the palm, fondles me. My own hand strays below my belt, rubs against the thick swelling at my crotch. I'm not seeing this, I think. I'm not watching it. I'm not.

Rudy's dick stands up from a dark swirl of hair, angry and red. He pulls Bradley's shorts down in the back, exposing a tight ass. No tan lines, I think absently. How cute.

Suddenly Rudy disappears. "Come on, Rudy," Bradley moans, grabbing at the front of his shorts. "Please. I need it."

I ache at that voice, that plea. Another few seconds and I'll rush over there myself, take him in my arms and thrust into him, I'm hard enough already. But Rudy returns, his erection glistening from a lubricated condom, and he swats Bradley's hand away as it kneads the thick shaft that tents his shorts. "Rudy," Bradley starts, and that's as far as he gets before Rudy shoves into him, his hands finding their way into the front of Bradley's shorts again.

Bradley's eyes slip closed, his lips part, his cheeks go slack and what I wouldn't give to have him lean back into me like that, to moan my name instead of Rudy's, to cry out yes, please, harder, God YES for me. Even from this distance, I can hear the steady uh uh uh as he meets Rudy thrust for thrust, and each moan makes me tremble, each gasp makes me throb. "Rudy," he sighs, arching back against his lover, bucking into him, harder, faster, setting a furious rhythm that ends with Rudy collapsing against Bradley's back and the front of Bradley's shorts growing damp.

I sink to the floor, my knees to my chest, my pants viselike around my own raging erection. I can hear Bradley giggle, breathless, and then Rudy says something I can't quite catch. I'm sure it's about me, they know I'm here, they did that just for me.

Don't be silly, that voice in my mind tells me. They're lovers. First night in a new house, worked up a sweat all day, of course they were looking for release.

In the window. After they saw me watching them. Yeah, right.

Read a free story from the collection or buy your copy today!

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