The Spinner of Romances (MMM)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 120,751
5 Ratings (3.4)

[Ménage and More ManLove: Erotic Alternative Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/M, orgies, HFN]

Trey Calhoun is successful at everything except his personal life. After breaking up with his partner of ten years, he accepts a promotion which takes him to a new city, where he begins a new life—alone. Recreational sex provides him some relief from his loneliness. So does Trey's discovery of the books of the M/M romance novelist Pandora Reynolds, whose lurid imagination supplies Trey with some exciting bedtime reading.

When Trey makes the acquaintance of his new neighbor, the college professor Bobby Pandour, he knows he has found a new friend. What Trey is not prepared for is the possibility of real life becoming as complicated, and ultimately as satisfying, as fiction. He soon finds himself attracted to not one but two men. And the revelation of Pandora Reynolds's real identity proves, once again, that fact is not only stranger than fiction—it can also be even sexier.

A Siren Erotic Romance

The Spinner of Romances (MMM)
5 Ratings (3.4)

The Spinner of Romances (MMM)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 120,751
5 Ratings (3.4)
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Cover Art by Jinger Heaston
This is a different kind of story. I enjoyed reading this one, but didn't feel compelled to keep reading until I was done. I actually put it aside for a couple weeks while I was still in the first part of the book. I'm not sure if it was the writing style or the plot that couldn't keep me engaged.
A little long but still a really good read



During his first week of “urban camping out” in his new apartment, Trey encountered some of his fellow tenants, either downstairs in the lobby or in the elevator. He introduced himself and was pleasant. So far, though, he somewhat cynically concluded none of his male neighbors was exactly the stuff of which sex dreams were made.

He came home from work late one afternoon and retrieved his mail from his box. At the far side of the lobby, one of the other tenants had obviously just done the same. He was standing in front of the elevator and had already pressed the call button.

Trey hadn’t seen this little dude before. As Trey strode slowly toward the elevator, he gave the other man the once-over. His neighbor, he realized as he got closer to him, was shorter than Trey, by about a head, but he obviously had a nice body. Trey noticed such things the first time he met another guy. This man’s sweatshirt and khaki slacks fitted him loosely but didn’t conceal his physique. The second thing Trey noticed was that his fellow tenant might be a couple of years older than he was. But this, Trey realized, could be a deceptive impression. He was basing it on the fact that the other man had streaks of silvery gray in his light brown hair.

He had a neatly trimmed pencil mustache, also salt and pepper, and wore the kind of wire-rimmed eyeglasses with round lenses and frames that, Trey always thought, gave the wearer a decidedly owlish appearance.

The other tenant glanced up from his perusal of the envelopes in his hand as Trey joined him by the elevator. At this closer proximity, Trey noticed the diamond stud screwed into the man’s pierced left earlobe. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, but it was a promising sign.

“Hello,” the man said.

“Hi there, yourself.”

“You just moved in, didn’t you?”

“Yes, just last week.”

“How do you like it here so far?”

“It’s great.”

“Yes, this is a nice building. I’ve been here two years. I moved in right after it opened—after the renovation, I mean. You remember how abandoned and run-down the place looked on the outside, while it was unoccupied.”

“Actually, I’m afraid I don’t remember that,” Trey said with an apologetic smile. “You see, I’m new here in every sense of the word. New to the city. I moved here less than two months ago.”

“Oh, how interesting. So everything here is new to you, not just the building.”

“That’s right.”

The elevator arrived, and the two men got on.

“We’re on the same floor, I believe,” Trey’s new acquaintance remarked.

“Are we?”

“Jeremy mentioned to me that you’d moved into the empty apartment on my floor. You’re right across from me.”

“Oh, is that your apartment, with all the plants on the balcony?”

“Guilty. By the way, my name is Robert Pandour. Everybody calls me Bobby.”

“Nice to meet you.” They shook hands. “I’m Trey Calhoun.”

“Trey Calhoun! What a perfect name that would be for a cowboy in a book. Or,” Robert Pandour added in way that made it sound like a distinct afterthought, “in a movie.”

Trey laughed. “Unfortunately, I’m not a cowboy. Just a business executive. A paper pusher.”

“I’m sure your job is more interesting than you make it sound when you say that.”

“Interesting, maybe. Exciting? Definitely not.”

“And you must be very good at it.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Well, I’ve seen you leaving on your way to work in the morning and coming back here after work—I’ve seen you crossing the street, from my windows, I mean—and you’re always so well dressed. Such nice suits and ties. They must cost a lot, I’m sure. And those cuff links you’re wearing. They’re Etruscan revival, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know. I saw them in an antique shop, and I liked them, so I bought them on impulse.”

“Now that I’ve gotten a closer look at them, I can see they’re the real thing, Victorian era, not modern reproductions. They’re not the sort of thing that would appeal to just any man.”

Trey was a bit taken aback by these comments, and his facial expression must’ve betrayed the fact.

“I’m sorry,” Pandour said quickly. “That was much too personal a comment for me to make.”

“Not at all.”

“I was trying to say, in my bumbling way, that you seem to possess a certain imagination and personal flair. You see, I have this bad habit of observing people and making up little stories about them, to amuse myself. The way a man dresses is a clue to his character, and a good starting point.”

“It sounds like a harmless enough pastime. What kind of a story have you made up about me?”

“I haven’t quite decided yet.”

“You’ll have to study me for a little longer first?”

“Yes. Surreptitiously—and otherwise.”




Fuck me, Bobby! he silently screamed. Fuck my goddamn face for me! Oh, give me that beautiful, big, hard cock!

Bobby suddenly pulled him up into a sitting position and again roughly shoved his quivering, purple-veined penis into his mouth.

“Suck it,” he moaned. “Oh, Trey, you’re driving me crazy with that hot, wet mouth of yours! I need to come down your fucking throat so hard it hurts!”

He forced Trey to his knees then plunged his pecker down his throat. Trey loved it! He gobbled, licked, sucked, and swallowed in his erotic frenzy until saliva was foaming from between his lips. Bobby seized two fistfuls of Trey’s disheveled hair and jerked his head back and forth in the rhythm he wanted. He crushed his wiry pubic bush against Trey’s nose, and the musky male odor of his crotch filled Trey’s nostrils as Trey breathed hard and kept up his oral exertions with eager glee.

Cock, cock, hard, hot cock in my mouth! Trey exulted. Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking high. This is like what snorting coke must be like. It’s getting me so fucking turned on!

Trey felt his lover’s taut stomach muscles squirming, and he knew that Bobby was struggling to hold back his orgasm. Trey grasped Bobby’s big balls in one hand and gently squeezed them. With a bull-like roar, Bobby pumped his hips harder, and his hard length of meat vibrated and swelled in Trey’s mouth. Thrusting crazily, Bobby let go with a pumping stream of hot, foaming sperm. Trey struggled to swallow it before it choked him with its seemingly endless flow.

Bobby leaned back and wiped at the sweat that gleamed on his shoulders and chest. “Jesus,” he panted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so horny, so fucking wild to come, in my life.”

“Me, too,” Trey groaned. “But I want to come with your cock in me, if you can get it up again.” He took Bobby’s rubbery prick in his fist and slid it back and forth. It hardened again instantly, forcing his grasp to enlarge to accommodate its bulk. As Trey massaged it, he felt Bobby’s hands spreading his buttocks apart and creeping in between them to finger his asshole. His rubbing of the sphincter inflamed Trey to the boiling point within seconds.

Bobby’s long, fat cock became as hard as a rock again as Trey jerked it, and then Bobby fastened his lips on Trey’s left nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, his tongue licking furiously. Trey felt a hot tingling in his cock and balls and asshole, and he eagerly helped Bobby lift his body on top of his hairy thighs and get ready to screw him in a kneeling position.

“Goddamn it, where do you keep your rubbers?” Trey asked, groping about the vicinity with both hands.

“Here they are.” Bobby yanked open the top drawer of his nightstand.

“Get one of the damn things on you, quick.”

“Yes, sir.” Bobby was already tearing open the condom’s foil packet.

“And where’s the fucking lube?” Trey asked, continuing to search with his fingers for this second item.

“Right next to the box of rubbers.”

“Sorry. I’m so damn horny I can’t see straight.”

“Let’s hope you can’t act straight, either.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve never felt so fucking gay in my life!”

Bobby, Trey saw, had already gloved up his dick, and now he took the tube of lubricant from Trey’s hand and applied a generous coating of the gel to his latexed erection.

“Get that thing in me and you’ll find out exactly how non-straight another guy can be,” Trey promised.

“You asked for it. Assume the position, buddy, and you’ll get it!”

Even as he spoke, even as Trey instinctively adjusted the angle of his body, pressing his buttocks down to meet the other man’s erection, Bobby began the insertion.

“In me,” Trey urged the moment he felt the slippery tip of the penis probe against his anal pucker.

Bobby thrust his hardness up into Trey’s throbbing asshole. Trey leaned forward, moving up and down, his mouth glued to Bobby’s, their tongues squirming against each other, as they began to fuck.

“Is this how the ancient Greeks did it?” Trey asked.

“This is how this modern Greek American does it,” Bobby retorted. “Do you like it? Is it turning you on?”

“It’s driving me crazy. Don’t stop. Fuck me harder. Oh, you can’t do it too hard. You can’t give me enough. I love it. Fuck me, Bobby, fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

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