In the quaint, sleepy college town of Huntsville, history has an eerie way of repeating itself generation after generation ... When in-the-closet college student Matthew Rhodes arrives at the old building in the town's historical district, little does he realize his life is about to take a sudden and dramatic turn. He is certainly prepared to earn extra income by posing nude for erotica artist Skylar Novak, and definitely anxious to discover if the sexy and reclusive man has an interest in him other than one of an artistic nature. But things get complicated when Matthew meets a handsome stranger lurking outside the artist's door. A stranger who has a sudden and compelling effect on him before disappearing in the blink of an eye. Matthew and Skylar quickly discover they share both an uncontrollable and supernatural bond with each other, leading to a red-hot and steamy affair, but they also realize they are mysteriously linked to the stranger. Is he even a man at all, or could he be an entity from another plane of existence with lecherous designs of his own? And could his connection to Matthew and Skylar have historical significance, involving an elaborate and desperate plan that has miserably failed every generation for centuries? Before the situation can drive him insane, Matthew is determined to open his mind to new possibilities and learn the whole truth. But in doing so, will his burgeoning love and unquenchable sexual appetite for Skylar, the man of his dreams, suffer in the process? Or will his actions secure their love for eternity?

Art for Art's Sake

When I nodded my consent, he took me by the hand and led me across the long room, toward the fireplace and seating area. Along the wall, dozens of additional scenes of Skylar and I caught in the act of lovemaking met my vision. The sight of our sweating, heaving bodies as we stroked or sucked each other’s cock, seeing my erection buried deep in his ass as I took him in every position imaginable, watching us cover each other in massive amounts of cum, once again shot fiery blood into my groin. By the time we reached the opposite end of the room, I had another real-life boner jutting from my crotch and juice weeping from the slit. My penis actually ached, as if begging me to hurry up and live out the various scenes I had so recently viewed as an outside observer. All in good time, I thought, just as my eyes focused on another painting, all in good—


My feet ground to a halt, and I blinked several times.


Chapter 37