Derek wasn't sure about this. He had been having fantasies about getting buggered, but now that he was in a situation where he felt he might really make it happen, he was less sure. Mandra was a good looking man all right; short and stocky but solid, strong and hairy. And Asian, which was the clincher in Derek's book. Well, he was almost bound to be Asian,...
[This is a completed five-chapter GM novella that will complete posting by mid-July 2019.] *** I now understand that my subconscious was miles ahead of my "surface" brain on knowing what I wanted. Male models apparently are as justly characterized as thick brained as female models are reputed to be. I suppose I was more narcissistic in my youth and early a...
In more recent years I look back on my mid-1970s (and then again early 1980s) Bangkok adventure and just shake my head, wondering what we were thinking we were doing then and how shallow we must have been to be so totally focused on beautiful bodies and the striving for perpetual orgasm. I think that for most of those I played with for two-and-a-half years...
After my first encounter with Raj in his flat above the shop at lunchtime I was very eager for more. I didn't know why this ordinary, short, stocky guy turned me on so much, and although I knew the fact that he was Asian and hairy had something to do with it, surely that couldn't be all? In order to find out, I would have to have sex with other guys of that...
There were not many jobs around in Birmingham at that time and certainly nothing in my usual line: stationery sales. Yes, selling paper and files and marker pens. Don't laugh: somebody's got to do it. And I knew my stuff, I tell you. But no, nothing around, so I looked at the wider area of sales. If you're a salesman you can sell anything. You've just got t...
Rob turned his head toward the open flap of the tent. He could see the tawny fringe of the Shewan subchief's buckskin jerkin at the fringe of the lamplight escaping the tent's doorway. And the two eagle's feathers sticking out to the side of the back of the native's head, up at the very top of the tent doorway. The savage must be at least six and a half feet...
I found the offices of TTC Productions on the top floor of a converted warehouse in London's Dockland area. After climbing up eight flights of stairs, I was confronted by a middle-aged guy who said, "You must be Peter. You're the last contestant." The guy led me to a changing room where three other young lads were getting stripped off. We took a shower the...
I had been seeing Beni for several weeks and we were getting along well. He was a little older than me, aged 52. He was Indian, tall, well built, smooth skinned and he had a long grey beard and quite long hair. He had mischievous eyes – eyes that said "I'm going to fuck you", and he frequently did fuck me. He was courteous and respectful, but masterful, and...
It was another long day of driving over mostly flat and undistinguished and dusty landscape from Dallas to Amarillo, Texas. Driving through the town and almost to Cimarron, the convoy of two vehicles turned south onto a dirt road under a log archway with "The Big C Ranch" engraved on a plaque overhead and drove three more miles until they came upon a long, l...
I stopped going to play tennis on Saturday mornings. Instead I went to the compound on Sathorn Road, where the host and one of the men living with him, the black captain, had a private tennis court. The host didn't play; he'd sit there by the court, under an umbrella, sipping his martinis and watching the black captain and me play. They had other men living...