From Top to Bottom

Can a dedicated top really learn to bottom? Tony wants to find out but he’s scared another die-hard top will just plow through him, instead of taking it nice and slow on a newbie.

Enter Butch, a bear who’ll try anything, and Ford, a guy whose curiosity is tempting him to cheat on his boyfriend. Like Tony, both are dedicated tops wanting to try something new, and on this journey of physical self discovery, all will find that being open means more than taking it doggie-style.


Thanks to writer, Michael Joseph, for his 4 star review.

…the story is a rather fun and well written sex romp. Chances are you won’t take away anything from it, but it will keep you ‘busy’ for a night or two.

Thanks to Amos Lassen for his lovely review (Amos has moved to a new website so review is unavailable).

We need more books like this—-books that have something to say that are fun to read.

Thanks to Fiona for her 5 star review 

An unexpected little gem of a read and I didn’t want it to end.

Thanks to La Crimson Femme for her review

Whilst it could be a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of sex book, it is more. There is humour. There is heartbreak and there are ridiculously funny interactions between Tony and his father.

Thanks to Helena Stone for her review

The story contains a lot of sex, but underneath there’s a beautiful message about taking chances, friendship, personal growth and being open to new experiences.

Thanks to Elaine White at Divine Magazine for her 4 Star review

The way the story progressed was great. The plot itself had depth and intrigue, moments where I cringed (Tony’s dad!) and moments that were too hot to handle.

Thanks to Dale Cameron Lowry for his review

…if you like erotica that lets you unleash your id, freeing you from the humdrum of reality, From Top to Bottom will be right up your alley.

Thanks to Annie from The Alpha Book Club for her review

The writing was solid. At times, I found the narrative oddly descriptive with romantic imagery…

Thanks to Queue at The Novel Approach 

Smoking hot story I think erotica lovers will enjoy.


On my various profiles, I wrote:

Top curious about being a bottom, wants to meet likeminded tops.

I thought I was straightforward enough, yet so many timewasters were happy to give but not receive. One loser argued that I ought to get my head examined. He said that it didn’t matter if the other top wanted to bottom, just as long as I got what I wanted.

I stressed that this would be a shared experience. Two or more tops learning from each other, discussing the intricate pleasures we would discover as a group.

Then he said we’d end up writing folk songs about exploring our inner regions and singing around a campfire. I thought to myself, yeah, maybe that’s exactly the direction I wanted to take. Was I getting soft, or was I just growing up? Perhaps there already was a group for closet-bottoms I could join.

But the truth was I wanted like-minded tops simply because we’d go easier on each other. We wouldn’t just ram it up there like a vandal bashing down the door. We wouldn’t be power-bottoms. We would ease in gradually; the runway lit for a relaxed landing before the passengers would embark.

Only two other tops sounded like they were on my wavelength. A bear called Butch and a secretive guy named Ford. So I set the date. The second Tuesday in June was the only night Ford could make it, and I knew better than to ask why.

I dusted and vacuumed frantically, as if I was expecting Prince Charming to knock on my door, take me in his arms, and deflower me. I lit candles to set the mood, and rolled out an old sheet on the lounge room floor. I didn’t want to bonk in the bedroom. I wanted space for us to explore, like they did in three-way porn flicks.

My front door buzzer sounded. I let in my first visitor.

“You brought cake,” I said. I tried not to let the look of horror show on my face.

“For afterward,” Butch replied. “I baked it myself. Is there room in the fridge?”

Hadn’t this guy heard of the definition of “eternity”? The time between when you cum and they leave. Who ever heard of cake after sex?

“It’s red velvet,” he said. He crouched in front of my fridge, rearranging its contents. “Do you know the weird shit that goes in this cake? Vinegar. And cocoa and vanilla.”

“Do you always bake before sex?”

“For special occasions, yes.”

“I hardly know you.”

“But you’re about to know me a hell of a lot better.”

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