Located on the bottom floor of the library at the midwestern university I attended was an excellent bathroom to meet for some quick sex. It had a single stall and a single urinal and sink. It also had two entrance doors, separated by about 4 feet, at its entrance—so there was always a warning when someone was coming in, because the first door would bang open...
This is a true story from when I was a grad student in college hanging out with my best friend Jordan. We bonded over pot, South Park, music, and intellectual conversation. I could easily have imagined marrying him, if he were gay; he's one of the most deep connections in my life. On this particular day, at his request, I showed him how to manscape, which en...
Why is it that I pass him nearly everyday and still I cannot find the courage to talk to him? I don't even know what I would say if I ever did get the courage to talk to him. Would I stumble my words? I think I probably would, one look into those crystal clear blue eyes and I would turn into a trembling mess. If I ever told any of my friends about this the...
If the CEO of my company hadn't seen me recently in that gay bar over on 12th and Madison, I don't know how long it would have taken me to get invited to the executive floor. But Pete Peterson had seen me, and there I was, in his conference room, sitting in a second-row position in the weekly executive meeting. I'd been surprised, but pleasantly so, to see...
"Just who the fuck do you think you are?!" Running, Arthur was running so fast he couldn't believe it. City lights were curving and springing in his vision. His thoughts were drops of watercolor paints falling into way too much water, frail, thin, and overpowered. "FUCK YOU!! GET OVER HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!" Away!! Get away!! Jake was danger, nothing but...
This wasn't the typical 'motel,' but a 'motor hotel,' and our room was on the third floor, and its easterly windows faced a large pasture; we had not pulled the drapes closed and morning sun filled the room and slanted across the bed -- and across me, still safely in the arms of my dear uncle, my face buried in his fuzzy chest. The raking rays brightly picke...
23 year old Dustin wants his life. Sex was an order. Just a couple days earlier I was expecting to have the time of my life with another gay man. Instead, here I was, in a life or death situation, being faced by the man I have been in love with since middle school. The room was dark and the air smelled dusty, and old, as if the room hadn't been used in a l...
I walked over to the dresser where the envelope was and picked it up. I opened it and sure enough, his information was there. All tests were negative. "Just go home Tom," I said with my back turned to him. I heard the door open and close. My mind was racing. My heart was pumping madly in my chest. My ass was pulsing, too. And my dick was still hard up agains...
My mother married young; I was born when she was only 18. Her younger brother was only 6 when I was born. We lived only three doors away from mom's folks, and my uncle was like a god to me. When I was 9, he was 15, and kayaking in the Pennsylvania mountains, and shooting rats at the Doylestown borough dump. He was the star on his high school baseball team, a...
*Hello one and all, this disclaimer is a little longer then usual and I apologize. Through some technical difficulties, I managed to lose almost my entire 60-page manuscript of Poor Simon and I am now writing from memory so it will take a little longer and I want to thank you all for bearing with me. In the following chapter, there is gay content, emotiona...