Archive for August, 2007

Poker Lends A Hand

Thursday, August 30th, 2007

I don’t know why it always happens to me, but it does. There I was, less than 2 miles from home on a beautiful Friday afternoon, when the high temperature indicator came on. I crossed my fingers, hoping to make it the rest of the way, but the car coughed, sputtered and died. I coasted to the side of MacArthur Boulevard. Cars zipped past me, interested only in getting home to their families. I raised the hood and looked. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I looked. The heat radiated out from the engine compartment. I figured I’d wait it out until the temperature went down. I looked down at my overheated engine and scratched my head. The silence was broken with, “Too bad, man?” A teenager, shirtless in cutoffs, stood beside me, looking at the steaming engine. From the looks of him, he couldn’t have been more than 14. He clutched his skateboard in front of him as he surveyed my overheated V8. A little embarrassed but relieved that there was somebody to share my grief with, I said, “I’m Dan Jeffries — but call me DJ, everybody does.” “OK, DJ, I’m Nat Pokerhassen. It’s a German word. Dudes call me Poker.” I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure, uh, Poker.” He laughed at my uncertainty about his name but looked back at my engine.

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Thursday, August 30th, 2007

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Peregrine

Wednesday, August 29th, 2007

When I was young , many years ago now, gays were `queers`. We defined as `queer` those men who were obviously effeminate, and those who, while apparently `normal`, enjoyed being on the receiving end of anal or oral sex. We made a couple of exceptions to this: mutual anal or oral sex, (we called it `tit for tat`) was acceptable, just, between close friends, but only if the opposite sex was not available.

My first real experience of sex with another boy, apart from the usual mutual fiddling with each other in pre-teen years, came about as follows. At Army Cadet camp, we had a game, set up by older boys, called `cock fighting`. Two younger boys would be told to strip to their shirts, and wrestle each other, trying to seize their opponent’s cock and balls and compel surrender. The older ones were, I see now, using us as sexual stimulants. Some of them would masturbate openly, I supposed turned on by the delightful expanse of boy flesh revealed as we fought. They never seemed to expect anything more from us.

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Wednesday, August 29th, 2007

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On Your Way Home

Tuesday, August 28th, 2007

My name is Lance Mason, a criminal defense attorney at the not-so-prestigious law firm of Manning, Miller, & Hunt. Even though I have been out of law school for 10 years, I am one of the youngest lawyers at the firm. Bobby Hunt, one of the founding fathers of the company, liked to hire the boys right out of law school. But he has been dead for 8 years now and Daniel Manning and Stephen Miller only hire the older, more experienced attorneys.

At the age of 36, I sure didn’t feel like a young man anymore. Not that my health was fading, which it wasn’t. I just knew that I was getting older. I didn’t feel as good as I used to feel. But mainly I just didn’t feel sexy, like I was 7 or 8 years ago.

My blonde hair was once full and rich, but is now thin and dry. My blue eyes were once clear and alive, but they are hazy and dead now. I once was fit and lean, but am currently out of shape with a beer belly. But, among the 40 and 50 year olds at the office, I was the most attractive person there, besides a couple of the secretaries. In other words, the office was full of ugly people.

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Tuesday, August 28th, 2007

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One Old Friend of Your Parents

Monday, August 27th, 2007

I was a teacher and an old friend of your parents. We were on summer vacation and my family was away at my wife’s parents’ house. I was staying behind a week to resolve some unsettled matters. You parents asked me if I could teach you a little bit of math because you’d be starting at a local university in the fall. We set up the first time for the tutoring one morning. You were very punctual, but I on the other hand had forgotten about our appointment. When you knocked at the door, I was mouth down on the bed with the sun beating over my body, masturbating while I was reading a gay porno magazine.

I had barely slept the night before. My family had left yesterday afternoon, and I had taken advantage of my loneliness to buy porn, magazines, books and videos. I spent the whole night drinking rum and coke, smoking marihuana, and masturbating. That’s why when you knocked on the door you gave me a good scare until I remembered about our appointment. I put on a bathrobe; turned on the shower; arranged my erect penis as best I could with the robe’s belt; and went down to let you in. I hastily apologized to you. I asked you to wait for me in the living room while I took a shower. I noticed that you were nervous and a little flushed as if you were doing something forbidden.

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Monday, August 27th, 2007

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No More Bananas

Sunday, August 26th, 2007

Better than seducing a boy is allowing a boy to seduce you. Philip was twelve and a handsome sturdy boy with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes fringed by the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on anyone. Philip lived in the neighborhood and I met him when his mother had a flat tire and no jack. Philip was in his driveway, chewing gum, staring at the car as if he expected it to hoist itself up and change its own tire. He was dressed in a pair of baggy jeans slung low on his hips and an overly large hockey jersey, cloaking any evidence of a slender attractive body beneath. It was his face that caught my attention, made me stop and stare at him. His dark complexion, his full lips, close-cropped hair. And those eyes–those eyelashes. I was walking by and before I knew it, I was barely moving at all, suddenly plunging into a slow motion stride, mouth agape. Philip just stood there looking back at me, but my attention on him made his mother notice me, made it seem as if I were asking if I could help, or was about to. Her voice came to me as if from a great distance. “Can you help me?” she asked. I looked at her and noticed her for the first time. “I have a flat and I have no jack,” she said, her hands out to her sides helplessly.

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Sunday, August 26th, 2007

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