I could hear him gasp quietly, my own cocky grin took over. It was my turn to get a reaction out of him. Carefully I slid my teeth over the skin, flic...ing my tongue over the areas I left reddened before sucking mercilessly. As the intensity increased my movements became faster. The taste of his skin was beyond comprehension, but it was like an aphrodisiac. All I wanted was more, and more. I was craving him, his body, everything that he was. I was so lost in my own addiction to him that I barely. Joseph Farrel is sadly now dead and much of his work is out of print. For my own amusement I have written my own short stories to accompany some of the drawings. Here is one of them. Let me know what you think. A CONTEST It was a strange kind of club, originally created by the chance meeting of two married men who shared the same tastes. Little by little, other people had joined them. Not all the members were men but most were. Not all the men were married, but all shared an attraction to big. More

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