(Some very kind people asked me to write another chapter in this story. So here it is. I hope it's okay. It's dedicated to you with thanks) * Alton of the Golden Sun Hair lay on his narrow bed in Ellington 312, of his empty dorm. He had been trying to masturbate. He was half way through his sophomore year here and wondered with more than a little worry if...
Chapter Fifteen -- The Chicken or the Egg The first month or two of living together has brought with it a series of challenges wherein compromise, patience, humor and understanding for both Adam and I have been tested at times to the limit. Adam has been used to being on his own for more than five years and I know there have been times when I have frustrate...
ONE. The pounding in my head marching on with a steady beat. TWO. The beating of my heart in my ears. THREE. The rhythmic clanking of the weight machine as I work through my daily routine. FOUR. The almost audible strain in my muscles as the weight goes up and down. FIVE. The final gunshot that doesn't stop ringing in my head... REPEAT. At 24, I was one of...
Chapter 3: Enjoying the Moment "Thanks babe." I said as Bobby finished tying my tie. "No problem." He answered adjusting the knot and giving it a final pat. This was it, in a couple of hours we would no longer be in high school. We headed downstairs, with our caps and gowns in tow. Bobby's parents, his grandmother, his mom's sister, and Emily were gathere...
TURNED OUT ON A BET, PT. 3 In which the best-laid clans of men often go astray The Seventh-Inning Stretch How does the saying go?--The balls have reasons that reason itself knows not of? I was in a funk. Mess hall coffee tastes even worse when your head spins with an impossible scheme. It was a simple question, really: How do I stretch the asshole of an u...
John sat at the table, slowly sipping his iced tea and watching people walk by the window. He was waiting, hoping to see if Joe would show up. He wasn't sure if he would show—he hadn't been able to talk to him directly; instead he left a message on his voicemail basically telling him he was in town for a day or so and would like to get together. In high sch...
Being Gay and twenty-one years old in 1962 is not always easy... Of course, the Fortune Teller lied. Down a Walton Street edged with stalls, sideshows and gaudily beckoning caravans, strolling the chill illuminated darkness where it erupts into the fairground. The smoky spun-sugar aroma of candy-floss, hot dogs that drip with ketchup-blood, brittle golden c...
Trevor knew his goose was cooked when he saw the flashing red and blue lights in his mirror. "Damn, I'm screwed!" he swore. He stepped on his brakes but it was too late. The cruiser had already pulled up behind Trevor's black Celica while the cars around him were moving discreetly into other lanes and going around. State troopers are so damned sneaky, tho...
*This story involves some male-male anal sex and some forced sex. If that turns you off please don't read any further. If that turns you on, please enjoy it and if you really enjoy it, send me a message! Boy, what a day for a street dance. I can't believe how nice it's been all summer and then the last few days the temperatures have been ramping up and no...
John sat at the table, slowly sipping his iced tea and watching people walk by the window. He was waiting, hoping to see if Joe would show up. He wasn't sure if he would show—he hadn't been able to talk to him directly; instead he left a message on his voicemail basically telling him he was in town for a day or so and would like to get together. In high sch...