In the near distance, the lilting voice of Ping—Tranquility—supported by strums on his lute, set the mood in the summer pavilion, where the heat of the two young men added to the warm, humid breeze wafting down the Yangtze River and whispering up to the nanleshijia—the male pleasure house—setting the bamboo shoots screening the summer pavilion swaying and ad...
"Artistic-style gay male, 43, new to town, seeks local older male to introduce him to the holidays here. Companionship, local concerts, plays, restaurants, university sports. Holiday cheer and travel later if found compatible. Nonsmoker please." I had never advertised like this in a paper before, but Gill, an older, sometimes boyfriend of mine in Washington...
This is a completed four-chapter novella that will complete posting by mid-June 2018. ***** "You mean like tying me up?" I asked. Though he was sitting across from me at the table in a shadowed corner of Merry's bar, the round table was very small and he was pressing his knees into mine under the table and gripping my forearm firmly in a strong hand. The...
Felix Frederichs stood in the shadows of the station shed in the Washington, D.C., suburb of Lorton, Virginia, on the last day of October, trench coat collar pulled up to cover his sallow cheeks, dark sunglasses on his face, directing the young Martin Mayer here and there in getting squared away for their overnight Amtrak Autotrain trip down the East Coast t...
"The forehand. Move in and take those serves with the forehand." The voice had cut through all of the noise in the stands at the Fitzgerald tennis center. Zach had been getting plenty of support from the stands surrounding the tennis court—which stood to reason, as he lived and trained here in Washington, D.C., a hometown boy, living in the Mclean suburbs a...
Sombat heard the garage door opener start to hum and he sat straight up in the chaise lounge by the pool. "He's home early. Where to today?" He jumped up from the lounger and lit out toward the kitchen door, padding along on bare feet. Ham might go to the kitchen first. There was little reason he'd go into the study before going upstairs, though. Sombat sco...
"Damn it, interact." "What's the matter?" Maddie asked, plopping himself down beside his boss, the producer of the gay male social media service "HookUp," Stan Cross, who was seating in Dodger's Stadium during a Los Angeles Dodger's baseball game with the visiting St. Louis Cardinals. Stan had a pair of binoculars, trained on the stands across the field, pr...
Chapter Seven: The Silent Servant, Ferdinand Ferdinand could tell that something was disturbing the ambassador as soon as he'd come back into the room. He knew what the man and his son had been arguing about. It wasn't because their voices had been loud; it was because he had been just outside the not-fully-closed door, listening to them. It was his busines...
Shun was shuffling along with a line of other young men, all in leg shackles and bound to each other. They had walked, between horsed soldiers of the Chu army, most of the day, with few rest breaks and even fewer stops for water or food. When the line came to a stumbling halt, because a young soldier of Wu was too wounded or weak to go on, he was unshackled...
Brad Besson caught on that he was the only one speaking. All other conversation in the high-flown witty debate on politics and economics had burbled down to nothing but what he was saying. They were gathered poolside on the terrace behind Frederick Gates's residence in the housing compound of the Baker Institute on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay, just to th...