Mannies Smut

I don't know about you, but I need some distraction of the smutty kind.

My latest release is Mannies Incorporated.

Slayde's got the best job on earth: he's a nanny to Army nurse and widow Mindy's three kids. He's been with the family since the oldest was born and is Uncle Slayde to all three children. When Mindy's deployed, things aren't easy, but he manages just fine. At least he does until Mindy's big brother Drake shows up unexpectedly, announcing he's there to help while Mindy is gone.

Drake is almost a stranger to the kids, hot as hell, especially in his motorcycling leathers, and straighter than straight. On top of that, Drake's not used to dealing with kids, with things like gluten free, recycling and not eating fast food and soon has Slayde's tight routine in shambles.

Slayde thinks Drake is far more of a hindrance than a help, at least at the start, but he tries to get along for Mindy's sake and eventually, having Drake around is easier than not. But what's he supposed to do when the straight, sexy leather wearing ex-cop makes a pass at him one night? Maybe there's more to Drake than Slayde assumed.

You can buy it here.

Adult excerpt -- not safe for work:

"We can't dance? Sure we can." Drake gave him a grin and got up, headed inside.

What the hell? Slayde frowned, eyes following Drake. What had he missed?

Drake came back with his iPhone. "This thing does music, right?"

"Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure it does." He held his hand out for it.

Drake handed it over and rolled his hips, punched his hands to the right and to the left. "See? We can boogie."

Slayde chuckled, searching for something that Drake could dance to and not feel like a drunken idiot in the morning.

"Well…" Drake tilted his head. "You can dance. I can look like someone being electrocuted."

"I bet you're fine." Maybe.

Drake laughed. "Maybe after another beer."

He found some dance music on Pandora, and his foot started tapping. Drake grabbed his bottle and downed whatever was left in it, hips swaying. Slayde swallowed his groan. That was like a wet dream come to life.

"Come on now, don't let me make a fool of myself on my own."

He stood, staying out of the light, out of Drake's way, and started moving. He was awkward and self-conscious for about half a song and then the music caught him and he just let himself move.

Drake sang along, out of key and most of the words were wrong but he was moving, clearly having fun. Slayde chuckled, moving with the music, hips rolling as he danced.

Drake clapped his hands and called out, "Woo, move it, baby."

Oh, God. His cock jerked and he was glad he hadn't bothered to tuck his T-shirt in.

Drake wasn't a bad dancer, the booze had loosened him up, and whoa could Drake move his hips. Slayde could imagine that hard, fine body slamming into him, spreading him and fucking him like there was no tomorrow.

He felt like Drake was watching him. Closely. He closed his eyes, stopped looking, and he just focused on the music. He felt Drake against him suddenly, dancing back to back with him. Oh, fuck. His cock went rock hard, his body insisting that it had been too long since he'd had what he needed.

Drake's ass kept rubbing back and forth across his. Jesus, his jeans were too fucking tight for this. Drake was still "singing" along to the music, body so fucking hot. One of his hands dropped forward, just barely skimming across his cock. Oh, God. God, yes. Please.

"Fuck, I haven't danced like this in a million years." Drake's head leaned against his.

"Feels good, huh?"

"Shit yeah. You feel good."

He couldn't tell if that was a question or a statement. "Uh-huh." That was perfectly noncommittal, right? Just don't stop.

Drake laughed and bumped his ass back, then turned and suddenly was dancing front against his back. His ass was still moving, grinding, and he pushed right against Drake's crotch. Jesus fuck, the man was hard and hung.

His lips opened and his entire body shivered. Still he didn't move away. They kept dancing as one song turned into another, Drake just so fucking hot.

Slayde was going out of his fucking mind, cock leaking and hard, heart racing. He didn't know whether to push closer or pull away. Drake's hands dropped to his hips, pulling him back against that heat. Oh, fuck. Yes. His moan was deep, low, and totally heartfelt.

Drake's answered it, the man grinding against him. Slayde spread a little, the pressure inside his balls getting worse.

"Fuck," muttered Drake, mouth latching on to his neck.

He moaned low, let his head drop forward, one of his hands rubbing his needy cock through his jeans.

"Hottest fucking ass."

"Oh, God." He pushed back, rolling his hips, moving like they were fucking.

Drake was moving like that as well, just banging against him. Slayde reached behind his back, between them, thumb tracing a line from tip to base, as he wished there wasn't any material between them.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck!" Drake pushed into his touch, whole body shuddering behind him.

Sean Michael

smut fixes everything

www.seanmichaelwrites.com