Gay men reveal their preference—and the reasons behind it! Gay Men and Anal Eroticism: Tops, Bottoms, and Versatiles is a no-holds-barred examination of one of society's most persistent taboos. In a remarkably candid collection of frank and forthright interviews, 21 gay men talk about the role anal sex plays in their lives and relationships and their choices to act as insertive (“top”) or receptive (“bottom”) partners—or both (“versatile”). Ranging in age from 21 to 65, the men discuss the reasons behind (and consequences of) their choices; how they define their sexual roles (and how those roles are defined by gay society); issues of power, trust, and vulnerability; and the concept (in both straight and gay society) that tops and bottoms are socially and morally unequal. These unique interviews, conducted by the author in the Boston and Provincetown areas, celebrate choice in gay men's sexuality while debating whether preference is genetically based or socially formed—a debate largely ignored in social science studies. The men interviewed—including gay porn icon Cole Tucker—discuss perceptions muddied by stereotypes, preconceived notions, and exaggerated scenarios, and the meanings gay men assign to anal sex, including dominance and submission roles related to masculine/feminine, aggressive/passive implications. The interviews also cover each subject's personal history as a gay man, safe sex in the AIDS era, childhood traumas, first-time sexual encounters, loves, desires, and obsessions. The interviews for Gay Men and Anal Eroticism provide insights that are equal parts thoughtful and outrageous, humorous and heartbreaking: Aaron, age 24: “I sort of fell into this image of myself as being a very aggressive bottom, a guy who knew what he wanted and who didn't want any wimps applying.” Danny, 21: “There’s a mindset about being a top … it's kinda like maintaining the ship.” Sam, 36: “I hate to say it, but I’m a bottom … I don’t like to be identified like that because I feel it turns me into something all the way from my feet up to my head.” Eddie, 42: “I guess I enjoy more being a top than a bottom because I haven't found a good top.” and Cole Tucker: “A physical act doesn't really make you a top or a bottom. It's a function, an organic function of what you do. It's the dynamics of where you come from.” The revealing disclosures of Gay Men and Anal Eroticism show equality in man-to-man sex to be as varied as the number of individuals who pursue it. Addressing traditional misunderstandings and misconceptions of gay men as either “limp-wrested fairies” or masculine “trade,” the book uncovers that there is much more to this complex issue than personal preference.

Nice Butt: Gay Anal Eroticism features some of the hottest butt erotica stories around from today's hottest erotica authors. From toys to teasing, spanking to sporting, some of the best gay erotica scribes celebrate the hottest and most creative in new erotica.

Seasoned erotica authors explore the pleasures of fingers and tongues, real cocks and silicone phalluses, beads and vibrators and every imaginable strategy for indulging in this popular but still taboo sexual activity. There's feather-light foreplay and the grand slam, tickling and teasing and fisting, all to remind us that 'dirty' is not only not a bad word, it can be irresistibly arousing.

Some guys will go all the way to get to the top. In some cultures it's still seen as 'unmanly' to take a cock up your ass, although it's hard to associate the image of someone supposedly 'less than a man' with some of the muscle studs who grunt like a pig to get dicked. Let's face it, oft times it's the bottom who's the power behind the fuck, using his sphincter in such a way that a whole universe of pleasure resides in one tight black hole. In these eleven stories you'll meet power bottoms from Victorian England and the Renaissance, vampires, marines, men at the top of the world, an elf who discovers humans make the best tops, a group who take out their frustration on a mate's boyfriend's ass, a straight boy who'll do anything to get ahead, a net date who's horny for Satan's dick, and a student aching for hard Arab cock. The Boy Is A Bottom includes, Marine Biology, Marine Animals, Attack of the Ass Bandits, The Arab Downstairs, The Extraordinary Victorian Clockwork Derriere, Creaming the Party Dip, Top of the World, Route 666: Signal Driver, The Butler Did Him, Fifty Shades of Fey, and Spinning the Bottom, all previously published as individual eBooks by loveyoudivine Alterotica. Excerpt from Marine Biology: The sight that greeted me as I opened my bedroom door was the hairy butt crack and dangling scrotum of my beefy big bro, Karl. There wasn't time for it to register as erotic as I watched him slide the entire length of his substantial cock into his girlfriend du jour before he screamed, "Get the fuck outa here!" That he'd glanced over his shoulder to see who the intruder was meant that he didn't mind sharing. Just not with his kid pro bro. If I hadn't forgotten my key, of course, none of it would have happened. But I was in such a hurry to surprise my parents for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, I pretty well floored the Toyota Camry for two hundred miles from my uni campus in the capitol to Redneck Central, as I not-so-fondly called my home town. It didn't feel much like a home town any longer. I was particularly out of favor with the populace, as I'd become an outspoken opponent of the country's military policy. Perhaps not a good idea in a town that supplied a rather large contingent to the Marine Corps. They were heroes. I was a traitor. They'd seen action in a war zone. I'd been on the receiving end of a police baton charge at an anti-war demo. I had a cabinet full of swimming medals. Karl had a chestful of bravery awards. It was a no brainer. My brother and his marine buddies are all big gorillas of men. Karl is 6'4" of almost solid muscle and, I'm pleased to say, an increasing amount of fat, and weighs in at 240lbs. Cropped dark hair and an attitude so belligerent that it would feed the messianic zealotry of any medium level dictator. Naturally, he attracts chicks like horse manure attracts flies. Me, I take after mom. She's petite, dwarfed by my dad, with blonde hair and the friendliest disposition you'd ever care to meet. I take after her-except for the disposition. Like my brother, I get that from my dad. And, of course, like my dad, I have a dick. Besides that, I have blond hair, a slim pro swimmer's body that weighs in at 120lbs, and a face that's much too pretty for its own good. Got me beat up a few times. And it's a constant source of friction between me and my bro and his buddies who call me 'Pretty Boy' to my face, as well as behind my back. It's not meant as a compliment. Our parents discourage mutual homecomings, and we're both happy to oblige. This, however, was one occasion where there was a scheduling error. Now the 'wrong' son was crashing the party. I could have turned around and driven away to a hotel or back to the college, but I was simply too stinking tired. And too stinking poor. I banged loudly on the door and there was a whoop from inside. "The chicks are here at last!" The door was yanked open. The smile of expectation became a snarl of recognition...

Can hot gay porn flow from the pens of lesbian writers? Can a gay man write convincingly of female sexuality? Can art remake same-sex desire? Switch Hitters answers an emphatic "yes!" to all these questions, celebrating a truly queer approach to sexuality, where hot sex is more important than gender labels.

Jennifer can’t believe it. Just married and pregnant, she discovers that her husband has been meeting Brad for sex. When confronted, Tom doesn’t deny it, but he insists it’s just “a thing” and he isn’t gay. Elsewhere, John’s wife, Karen, discovers that her husband likes to watch gay porn. John doesn’t understand his wife’s reaction. Why does she care what he watches if he’s not unfaithful? In couple’s therapy, Karen and Jennifer raise the same questions: Does this mean my husband is gay? Can my marriage survive? These and other stories illustrate the difficulties inherent when a wife or girlfriend finds out her man has had or wants to have sexual contact with other men. But many times, the man is not gay or even bisexual. Of course, some men with gay sexual interests are gay men in a process of self-discovery; they are “coming out.” These desires may only reflect a different side of a man’s sexuality or some response to childhood trauma or experiences they have not fully processed. Here Joe Kort and Alexander P. Morgan make the distinction between gay men and “straight men with gay interests” clearer to women who want to know how they can overcome these revelations. The authors explain the many reasons why straight men may be drawn to gay sex; how to tell whether a man is gay, straight, or bisexual; and what the various options are for these couples, who can often go on to have very fulfilling marriages. Is My Husband Gay, Straight or Bi? is intended to help couples understand how male sexuality can express itself in ways that may be difficult to understand. Many marriages have been hurriedly terminated when couples (and their therapists) have lacked the information they needed to understand their current situations. This book provides the clarity, describes the choices, and (in many cases) offers hope for relationships and marriages that have been brushed off as doomed.

Sex, drugs, and insatiable bottoms. Who doesn't love a good bottom boy? The men in these stories are better than good...they're totally insatiable, they simply can't get enough of what keeps them happy. Whether it's the guy who misses his stop on the last train of the night and ends up with three hunky workman repairing the tracks, a bottom who falls, literally, at the feet of three hot workers putting in a speed hump outside his door, a sex shop worker who goes to the aid of his favorite porn star bottom, a straight boy who bets his ass on a sure thing in a card game, a top man who finds his real calling at a private sex club, or the lead singer in a Korean boy band, these boys give new meaning to Entry at the Rear. Excerpt: I'm such a fuckwit. How else would you explain my predicament? The facts speak for themselves; it's two o'clock in the morning, it's the middle of winter, and I'm pissed off my brain - at least I think I'm pissed because it could be drugs - wearing nothing but a T-shirt, and jeans, with bare feet. I lost my sneakers somewhere during the night. Where am I? Your guess is as good as mine. Godknowswhereville, attempting to hitch a ride outa here. The whole thing is my own fault. There, I freely admit it. Are you laughing yet? Why are gay men so fuckin' boring? They'd rather sit around discussing the latest Lady Gaga clip or gay rights for Antarctic penguins than get down to the nitty gritty. Where are the real men? Gay guys who like it rough and ready at the click of their fingers, who want nothing better than to ram a moderately hot just-past-twink-years bottom like me? I spent the night bored off my brain at a gay pub where a group of gay swingers thought they were on to a good thing by inviting me on a date. Better that they had just thrown me on the ground and had their way with me. A fuckin' date! Do I look like someone who wants to go on a date? Fuck me. My filthy mouth always gets me into trouble. I'm too direct. There, I managed to restrain myself. I was gonna put the F word before at least three or four more of those words in those couple of sentences but I've learned too much of a foul mouth and you sound like one of those wussy porn movies where the actors sprout bad dialogue while looking as bored as I'd felt all fuckin' night. After the pub almost sent me catatonic I headed to a disco where the music almost burst my ear drums and the only action in the Men's was of the snorting or injecting kind and I don't mean injecting in my ass. Somewhere between when I'd paid to go into the disco and leaving the leather den, I lost my wallet - or else it'd been lifted by some skanky fag - and I no longer had taxi fare home. Proof enough that I must have been in a bad way, it took me some time to realize I'd left my shoes inside the leather den but when I went back the door was closed and no amount of banging got me an answer. Plus for the first fuckin' time in living memory the weather bureau got it right and the cold front had moved in: a bitterly cold wind that froze my balls off. Only thing in its favor was it made my nipples hard as icicles. Problem was, no one was sucking. My lack of mates, the sort who'd allow me to sleep on their living room floor let alone share their bed, sank any chance of a warm place to kip. I guess I must have looked the worse for wear because guys were giving me a wide berth as I walked up the street. In frustration, I shouted at one pissy bunch who giggled like high school girls at the fact I had no shoes. "Have I got two fuckin' heads or something?" No cash for a cab meant sleeping in a park or a shop doorway for the night. I glanced up at the clock on top of the gay pub on the corner. Shit! If I hurried, I might just make the subway. Last train was due to leave in about fifteen minutes. I'd have to jump the turnstiles but that wouldn't be the first time.