The Gay Thief Journals

Gay thief Lance confesses his erotic crimes (and erotic punishments) in this hardcore trio of taboo-busting tales.

Warning: these short stories --- "Hospital Thief", "Locker Room Thief", and "Condom Thief" --- are intended for ADULTS ONLY and contain masturbation, oral, anal, watersports, latex gloves, kidnapping, humiliation, gangbang, scent perversions, orgasm denial, interracial, weightlifting, threesomes, daddys, bears, foursomes, wrestling, domination, massage, group sex, bukkake, Lucky Pierre, dirty laundry, voyeurism, public sex, man-train, gender-bending traps, and many raunchy scenes you won't forget!

Excerpt:
My name’s Lance Longstrom, and I’m a thief.

With kinks as raunchy as mine, I’ve got to be...

The truth is, I get off on the scent and taste of gorgeous men. Their sweat, their piss, their cum, their foot odor, their sweet smegma... really I’ll take anything, as long as it belongs to a hot guy.

I don’t make distinctions between straight and gay, black and white, husky or skinny, young and old, jock or nerd... if you’re a handsome guy, I want to bury my face in the essence of your body.

And I’ll do anything to make that happen.

When I was a college student, I organized a laundry service for my dormitory, just so that I could get a chance to acquire guys’ dirty underwear, cum-soiled socks, and sweat-stained shirts.

Later I had a phase of stealing urine samples from hospitals... even when I got caught by the whole football team and punished by an eight-guy gangbang it couldn’t stop me from going back for more.

I began practicing the arts of disguise, yoga, and ninja stealth to get closer to my goal...

I’ve pinched prizes from apartments, farmhouses, frat houses, fire stations, beach changing rooms, erotic bookstores, glory holes, corporate housing complexes, cheap hotels where young hustlers turn tricks, oil company dorms in remote locations, hotel saunas, the YMCA… I don’t mind admitting that my goal in this world is to become an Arsene Lupin of ass-sweat, a Solid Snake of sniffing missions, a Loki of lechery… in short, a master thief of masculine skivvies and gear.

If I lived in Germany, I’d steal lederhosen. If I lived in Japan, I’d steal fundoshi. If I got warped to the 1st century, I’d sniff under guys’ togas. If I make it to the 22nd century, I’ll sniff the synthetic blends that athletes and hunks will wear. The only place you’ll never find me is in a nudist colony.

Ever wonder where your sweaty socks disappear to?

Ever have trouble finding the t-shirt you use to wipe up your cum after jerking off?

Could you swear you’re losing certain articles of clothing, even though you aren’t throwing any away?

I won’t say I’m necessarily responsible for these things.

But I won’t say I’m not, either...