It was another damp winter evening when I stepped into the cosy saloon bar, escaping the irritating drizzle. As the frosted glass-paned door swung open my senses were overwhelmed with the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. The usual locals were already in their chosen places. Propping up the bar or sitting huddled around beaten copper tables chatting quietly...
One Patrick knocked on the door of the sterile white room. He greeted me from behind the abrasive expression of a mask. Our embrace pulled me snug against his growing cock. The tips of my thumbs traced downward and around defined obliques, tracing the arrow that pointed to his cock. His definition felt sharp against my fingers. Deep brown eyes held my gaze....
"Sorry about that. I didn't realize it had been on. I'll turn it off." I reached into my tux jacket pocket and dragged out my cell phone. The Belgian diplomat sitting across the cocktail table from me in the Bourbon Steak Lounge bar of the Four Seasons Georgetown Hotel lifted his hands in a "no problem" shrug and gave me a pleasant smile. We had stopped he...
By PapaWereBear and UrsusMajr (What follows is a work of fiction. Enjoy the fantasy, but please do not confuse it with reality. None of the incidents portrayed happened, and none of the characters are meant to depict actual persons, living or dead. This story contains descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If such offends you or is illegal fo...
Scott Clark hated his whiteness. He wasn't able to articulate it exactly in that way; he claimed to be coming to terms with his submissive nature and his overwhelming desire to serve the Black race. Had he been a bit more self-aware, a bit more introspective, he could have accurately described his self-hatred as stemming from his inherent need to feel superi...
Jonathan stared out over the balcony railing into the garden below. His heart ached horrendously over the loss of his best friend. In his mind, he conjured memories of the past years with Peter that only proved to make his pain even colder and harder to bear. It seemed the vast darkness that surrounded him would quickly swallow him up. He felt caught in a...
Emmanuel, cosmopolitan boi that he was, was becoming lonely of late. He still frequented his usual haunts, errant impersonal coffeebars, bookstores, independent record vendors... the like. He knew exactly what pixie faces he would see... he'd already had his choice between most of them, and there would be no surprises there... he was a pretty fag... the metr...
My first week is finally done and over with here at Keene State. It sure has been a completely different experience than it was during my freshman year at the University of Rhode Island. I would not say that it was more difficult, just different. Walking across the campus to get to the parking lot by the Keene Community Ice Arena is an adventure in itself....
Thank you for reading my story and for the likes and gracious comments. I know you're all anticipating the continuation of the story, so here you go. It had taken me a little longer to write as our country and the rest of the world deals with the COVID19 situation. Wherever you are, please as much as you can stay indoors, stay safe, and stay connected. We'll...
"In conclusion, it was the post-modernists that first shifted the power dynamic of artistic production and consumption between the European metropole and the post-colonial world. We see the groundwork for this argument in the later works of Zweig, and then more clearly illustrated by the so-called 'Boom' of Latin American literature in the post-war. This is...