I had an amazing experience last weekend that has changed my outlook on traveling alone. I had gone skiing alone to Mammoth Mountain in northern California alone, as my kids are quite young and my wife doesn't ski much. The snow was awesome and very few people were there. This meant that I did little else but ski my legs right off. My second night I took m...
Cruising down I-25 one idyllic, warm summer afternoon, I couldn't help but help but start to panic. No matter how much Gatorade I sipped, my mouth remained dry and my tongue felt thick. It didn't matter how good the music happened to be on the radio; I couldn't concentrate on it. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I was nervous as h...
I am the world’s greatest gigolo. Well, at least I was the world’s greatest gigolo. My clientele were usually wealthy women with husbands who rarely spent two seconds at home, much less tended to the raging sexual desires of their wives. This is where I came into the picture. It only took a couple of hours a day to bring these women to their peaks and watch...
It was one of those moments that I knew I would never forget, no matter how hard I would try, and to think that up until then I was having the time of my life. In my bedroom and on my knees in front of my best friend Jimmy was a position that I had often found myself in, and at that moment there was no place else I would have rather been in the whole worl...
The bar was smoky and crowded. Friday nights always were. There were a lot of guys trying to pick up guys. I was just another guy out to do the same. A fresh Corona in my hand, I took a sip as I scanned the crowd. Seemed I might have gotten here a little too late tonight. Everyone appeared to be taken. Oh there were some hunks I would have loved to have my...
The limo was where I expected it to be in the VIP parking lot of the airport serving the capital city of the forgettable southern state located between somewhere and somewhere else—for those of us from the West Coast, most of these states down in this region are forgettable. The Limo wasn't parked up at the well-lit side near the terminal but back toward th...
Looking back to the summer I was eighteen I realize I was immature in many ways. For one thing, most kids my age had graduated from high school, but I still had a year to go. I missed most of fifth grade recovering from an auto accident and had to repeat it. It set me back socially as well. I was shy and still felt like an awkward adolescent. As far as sex g...
Special thanks to my editor Cam. No matter how well you write, having an editor is invaluable. Disclaimers 1. If you're not supposed to read this due to the laws where you live, hit back and move along. If you read further, that's on you. 2. lf m/m sex isn't your thing, hit back and move along. 3. There may or may not be incest themes in any of my storie...
The following is a sequel to my entry in the Halloween story contest of 2007 submitted a year ago. The title was THE TABOOS OF TRANSYLVANIA. * He was so handsome and charming in his dinner jacket that night in August on his eighteenth birthday. Reginald has his mother's big brown eyes and his father's debonair strawberry blond looks. But he inherited his...
I had become a regular at the gym on Tuesday nights, and this 40-something businessman named Clint, who was also a regular on that night, and I had gotten to where we spotted each other through our bar bell work. He was in great shape for his age, leaner than I was, but with well-defined, ropy muscles and chiseled square-cut features. I’d been trying to save...