LGBT Stories

It’s a fairly long stretch of secluded beach where I go to do my summer tanning. Completely hidden from the one-lane access road by tall, reed-covered dunes, the place is frequented early morning and late in the afternoon by fishermen. But at high noon there is practically nobody around, allowing for some private tanning. Not that I go nude, mind you, although the thought has crossed my mind at times. Although only a handful of stalwarts like myself utilize the unmaintained beachfront, you get the usual dog walkers or local kids taking a stroll, which tends to put somewhat of a damper on nude sunbathing. Actually I like to have a tan line, albeit a very small one. Unlike most guys I see on the more popular beaches further south in the touristy areas, I’m into wearing my black lycra bikini suit I picked up from one of those mail order catalogs. Not that I’m in bad shape or anything, but I get a little self-conscious wearing it on those other beaches since it seems I’m the only dude so inclined. Last time I wore it a buddy of mine told me people were going to think I was queer, so I reluctantly purchased one of those trendier trunks which hang down to the knees for the more-pubic beach excursions. But, whenever I get the chance, I slip that little bit of nothing over my groin and hang out on my desolate beach where I’m free to be me.

(more…)

I walked into the crowded bar and looked around and found
an empty table in the corner and sat down facing the dance
floor. I don’t drink, so I don’t know why I was there. It was a
straight bar and I don’t like the loud music they play. That’s
bars in general, not just straight ones. The only good thing
about this particular bar was, they played country and western
music. I guess I was there because I was bored and didn’t have
anything else to do, as usual on Saturday nights.
A waitress came over and asked me what I wanted and I told
her a Seven-Up, since they didn’t have Dr. Pepper. Dr. Pepper
isn’t a mixer, so bars don’t carry it, another reason I don’t
like going to bars. There were quite a few people dancing. I
watched as I slowly drank my soda. I wished that I was in a gay bar so I
could ask a few of the guys to dance. There were a lot of good
looking guys there.

(more…)

The wind was blowing the driving rain against the windshield of
my Powder Blue Chrysler La Baron convertible so hard that the
windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with it. Therefore, I could barely
see the front of the car, much less the road ahead. My only relief
was that I had travelled this same road so many times in the years
past when I went home to see my parents, that I knew where I was.
Even though I was only about fifty miles from home now, there was no
way that I could keep going in this freak rain storm. Knowing the road
well meant that I knew I was getting close to a town called Rapid
Springs, which had an old hotel that was about half a mile up ahead. If
I could make it to the hotel without running over someone, or off the
road, I could pull in and get a room either for the night or until the
storm blew over. Once there, I could call my parents and let them know
I would be there later or the next day.
I looked at my watch; eleven-fifty-five. I had planned on being
at my parent’s house by now, but I had a rush job to do before I could
leave home. I worked at home using my computer to do typing work for
the public, and just as I was walking out the door, someone had shown
up wanting me to type up a newsletter for him. If he hadn’t been a
regular customer, I would have told him that he would have to wait
until I got back from vacation. It took me about an hour to finish the
newsletter, and then I was able to leave. Since my parents only lived
a hundred miles away, it normally didn’t take more than two hours to
get there. By the time I left, the radio was reporting a storm heading
our way, and I ran into it about fifteen miles south of Rapid Springs.
It took me about forty minutes to make the fifteen minute drive in the
pouring rain.

(more…)

“Hurry, Brad!” I called as there was a knock on the door of our
apartment. “They’re here.”
“Shit. Okay, I’m coming,” he replied from the bedroom.
I opened the door. “Hi, Mrs. Peterson,” I said, smiling at her.
She was in her mid-forties and wore her blond hair short. Her
blue eyes were filled with worry as she looked at me. “Sorry we’re
late, Kris,” she said. “There’s a traffic jam on the freeway. All
the rubber-neckers are slowing down everything both directions, so
we might not be able to get through to get to the marina on time.
I can’t believe there’s this much traffic on a Saturday morning,
anyway.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Peterson,” I replied. “The shorts that Brad
wanted to wear had a hole in them, so he decided he was going to
sew them up himself. Unfortunately, as you know, that is something
he has never learned how to do. By the time he realized he wasn’t
going to be able to do a successful job of it, it was time for you
to get here, so he resigned and decided he’d better finish getting
ready. While he was in the shower, I mended the shorts for him.
It’s a good thing you were late because he just got out of the
shower.”

(more…)

I opened my eyes to darkness. I couldn’t even make out any
shadows in the darkness. The pain above my right eye was a dull
throb. I had no idea what had happened or where I was.
“Tracy, are you okay, Honey?” I heard a deep voice next to me
ask, worriedly.
I tried to turn my head to the left to see who had spoken.
Was I supposed to be Tracy? “No, don’t move,” he said.
“My head hurts,” I managed to say, reaching up to feel my
forehead. A strong hand grasped my arm, preventing me from
touching it.
“Don’t. You’re bleeding pretty bad. I’m going to see if I
can slide you out of the car. We’ve got to get out of here before
we both freeze to death, but I’ll see if I can stop the bleeding
first.”
“Okay,” I said.
I heard a cloth rip, then felt the pressure as he wrapped
something around my head. “Not to tell you your business,” I said,
“but wouldn’t you be able to see better if you turned the light
on?”
“Oh no,” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, worriedly.
“Don’t worry about it, Babe,” he replied, softly. I heard
something click, then felt warm strong arms lift me out of my seat.
“Lay your head on my shoulder,” he said.
As my forehead continued to throb, I let my head relax onto
his broad shoulder. It felt good for him to hold me the way he
was. A moment later, he sat me down and I heard the same click I
had before he picked me up.

(more…)

Chapter I

It had been raining all morning as I drove to the little
country town of Ridgemont, which was about thirty miles from
Springfield. As I got closer to the driveway of the three
bedroom house, on the outskirts of town, I had just purchased
the week before, it began to rain harder.
I hope the movers have the furniture in, I thought pulling
into the long, winding drive. Luckily the previous owners had
graveled the driveway.
As I turned the bend I noticed that the moving van was not
there yet. “Maybe they’ve already come and gone,” I said
hopefully as I pulled the hood of my rain coat up over my head.
I had given them a key, so if they got there before I did, they
could start unloading since I had some unfinished business to
take care of in the city.
The red, brick, three bedroom house, sat facing the south.
There were morning glories in the window boxes, and daisy’s
lined the circular drive. There were no curtains on the
windows, so I could tell that there was no furniture or boxes
in the living room, by looking in the big picture window.
I pulled up in front of the garage and parked the car. Then
I reached into the back seat and got my umbrella. If I had had
the garage door opener with me, I would have been able to park
in the garage, then I could have gone straight into the utility
room from there. But as it was I had to run through the rain to
the front porch, so I was lucky I had the umbrella.

(more…)

My name is Sean Fletcher, and I am seventeen years old. I live
with my two parents and younger sister. The only thing you need to know
about me is that I am interested in things dealing with the past. My own
ancestry and the history of a country are two subjects that I am always
willing to attack with vigour. I would like to begin with an extract from
my own journal.

Friday, January 12, 2232

I was not feeling well today, and as a result I missed school. I
did not have a problem with this since I did not enjoy most of my courses.
Unfortunately, I missed history, the only class that I approach with great
enthusiasm.
I needed something to do to pass my time, and for whatever reason,
I decided to explore the attic. Because of all the dust, I began sneezing
almost immediately, but I did not give up. It was full of boxes, chests,
and other old things that nobody would ever need.
As I was looking around, I noticed a box sitting by itself in a
corner. It seemed to have collected more dust than anything else, but
despite this had a life to it. The box had many dents and markings, each
probably with a wonderful story behind it. But my imagination was running
wild.

(more…)

The owls do not usually sing their songs so early in the
morning. It was 7:15 and the sunshine was streaming into my
bedroom. A soothing summer breeze flowed in through the screen
window. The lovesongs of the owls woke me up, and there he was
beside me, in my bed, my new friend Jose. His jet black hair hung
in solid bunches down onto the pillowcase, his chest was moving in a
rhythm that was smooth and regular. There was just a hint of a
smile on his face as he lay sleeping. His smooth tan skin was so
very tempting, but I wanted to let him sleep.

I propped myself up on my left elbow, my hand curled back to
support my face, and I lay there watching him sleep, thinking of the
wonder of the night before. Jose was such a mix of parallel
contradictions. Very much macho and masculine, yet so enthusiastic
in my bed. I thought of the things he had said while we were making
love. I thought of him poised above me the night before, candlelight
flickering against the wall behind my bed, smell of incense that had
followed us from the livingroom, his chest was still moving so very
slowly. I smiled and savored a silent sigh. So lucky to have met
Jose, so glad he had decided to follow me home. He had this really
neat way of kissing me. His mouth all over mine, his lips
surrounding my own, passion that was completely unchecked.

(more…)

It had been a very slow day, no service calls. I sat home
watching my own BBS, waiting to see if a certain kid would call, a
kid in trouble, trying to accept his sexuality. Somebody has to help
these kids, they get so scared, some die by their own hand. It
makes me so sad I get horny, you figure it out. The kid is doing OK
now, he’ll be fine, no more talk about suicide. He scared me the
first time he called my board. So the kid called that evening
and he was quite calm. We chatted a while and I did what I could
do for him. It left me feeling even more horny. I realized I had
to get laid. It took too much out of me. I started dialing out on
my other line.

I was on one of those multiline chat boards, mostly all
gay, when I saw a guy logon. We had talked on the phone once before,
it was going along well, but then my damn pager had gone off. So
there was this sense of incompleteness, unfinished business, I did
not want it to end without starting. I sent a hello. He asked how I
was. “Horny” was my reply.

(more…)

About a year ago I was living in Worcester Massachusetts and
operating my bulletin board there. On my board I had a Match
Maker door and I had always hoped that someday a gay person would
use it instead of all the “straights” that seemed to dominate the
thing.

From time to time I would enter the door myself and list all the
other users hoping against hope to see just one other gay person who
listed themselves. Then one day last summer a user entered the door
and described himself as “Bisexual”. In looking at his description
I saw that he stated he was “Under 18″. I remember thinking at the
time that this was probably a joke, but I sent this user a message
telling him how unusual it seemed to me to see someone his age who
chose to describe himself as bisexual. I also described myself to
him as a gay man.

(more…)

I looked at him, and wondered quietly what he sounded like
when he spoke. He was so tiny, so small, so marvelously fragile. I
felt sure that he could never muster a robust, deep, manly voice. He
was just sitting on a barstool, off in a corner, all by himself, being
very attractive. At least, I thought he was attractive. There was a
certain effeminate quality to him, he looked slightly girlish. It was
a softness, a vulnerability, a trait I find irresistible in homosexual
men. My mind was filled with sexual images, little brief flashes of
naked flesh, his and mine, touching. It was the sort of a daydream
one wants to have come true, or make it come true.

(more…)

You’ve probably heard this before, its practically cliche. I swear I didn’t do it. The difference is, I mean it. Of course jail is filled with men who tell the same story to anyone that will listen. So far no one does. I have never been here before and the thought of staying here overnight scares me more than just a little. I can’t even imagine the possibility that it could be longer - not yet.

My name is Marc Rivard. I’m nineteen years old and I’m sitting in a cell at a police station somewhere in Toronto. A few hours ago I was at a rave with some friends of mine when a fight broke out involving people I didn’t know. The crowd just gathered round in a circle and cheered as fists colliding with flesh and the melee intensified. The music played on and the hypnotic pulse of a strobe light made the action seem surreal. I saw angry people and the flash of something silver — then red. It was amazing how the sight of blood transcended the moment, focusing it into reality. Someone had been stabbed right in front of us. Except by then it wasn’t us anymore, it was just me. I remember looking for my friends amongst the unfamiliar faces but they were not around.

I turned back towards the brawl and overheard three extra beats out of sync with the rhythm of the song and suddenly people were running. I hadn’t realized what had happened until the person in front of me shouted, “GUN!” and then pushed me aside. My balance lost, I fell to the ground where several people trampled me on their way towards safety. Each time I made it to my knees I was knocked down again by the steady stream of rats leaving the sinking ship. The floor was slick with liquid — and then I saw it.

(more…)

I guess I’ve always been gay. I never acknowledged it to anyone and barely recognized the fact in myself. Sometimes it just takes that special someone in the right circumstance to find that part of yourself you never knew existed. I was nineteen when I found out for sure and he was twenty-five.

He’d lived three blocks down the street from me my entire life, but I never really knew him until my dad brought him home for me. Get your mind out of the gutter — it wasn’t that kind of situation at all. Matthew was nineteen and applying for his first serious job as a dispatcher in the fire department. I was thirteen and knew a thing or two about computers. He needed a resume and I owed my dad some money. You can do the math from there. My father sure did when Matt mentioned it to him.

I remember feeling out of place at first when Matt came around to see me. I mean here was this older guy coming to me for advice on his resume. Turns out he knew quite a bit himself, he just didn’t have a computer or a clue how to use one. I was just a means of getting his thoughts down on paper in a format that would get him hired. But he didn’t treat me that way, not at all. He approached me with respect, like I mattered, kind of like how an older brother would on those sappy TV shows. I mean back then we were worlds apart. He was past the cusp of adulthood while I was barely a full year into my teens.

(more…)

I had finally gotten up the courage to move back to Florida. Things hadn’t been going so well on the west coast. I had a severe break up with my ex lover. I had lost my job, and I was financially troubled.

Then a friend offered me a stay at her place in Fort Lauderdale for a while til things got better. Luckily I was able to get a job quickly because the Travel industry is booming here. Well I stayed at her house for a few months until I had enough cash to get my own apartment. I needed to move closer to my work in West Palm anyways.

One day I was running a little late to work, so I of course was exceeding the speed limit to try get there on time. I was only about three exits from mine when I saw the flashing lights behind me. `Shit’ I thought. This isn’t a good time. I pulled over to the side. Waited for a few moments, then out of the squad car came the officer. I watched him through the side mirrors. He walked up slowly toward my car. I looked at him, noticing the facial hair, and the rugged looks under those glasses. He suddenly stopped right behind my car and looked intently at my window, lowering his shades slightly. What was he looking at? Then it dawned on me. The only thing I have on the back of my car is the pride sticker. Telling the world I’m gay.

(more…)

I was on the internet one day and came across a porn site that was somehow connected to my usual sites. It was with teen girls takin money for sex. Usually I delete seeing as I’m a gay male. But on one picture was this hot hairy guy Jake. Wow was all I could say. He was older, bout 40’s or so. But he had a nice body that was covered in soft looking fur. A blond chin goatee and salt and pepper hair. He was fairly attractive. So I opened up the pics and there he was. He had a huge 8+ inch cock that was thick with a fat head. I immediately became aroused. So for the next week or so I went in to see all the pics of him in the site. I was jealous of all those women that were getting fucked by him. I wanted to get his big cock in me too. I found out that they were filmed not awfully far from me. So I drove up to their city one weekend determined to find him. I hung out near one of the corners they seem to always find girls. Nothing one day one, but day two I did see Harry. Jake’s slim big dicked cohort. I had to approach him because I figure the way to Jake was through him.

(more…)

The sun shines down on us brightly as we stroll over to the swimming pool. My wife and I decided that the pool had emptied out enough so that we could swim some laps. The kids were off by themselves at some of the amusements of the park set up for the teenage strata of participants. We swam our 15 laps and climbed, exhausted out of the pool. We returned to our spot on the grass. The special picnic set up for this group turned out to be a big success. Lots of activities for the kids not enough activities for the adults. Which is usually the case.

My wife decided that while the sun was at its highest, she wanted to sunbathe a bit. I wanted to sit in the shade under the canopy and read my book. But first I had decided to just sit and watch the crowds of people. Actually, I noticed that there were quite a few aging couples sitting over to the right playing canasta. I was surprised that they had made the trip also as there really were not too many activities for the middle-aged to retirement-aged people. My wife and I, however, always enjoyed being with the kids in a picnic grounds. She loved to sit in the sun and read her newspaper, while I always enjoyed to just sit and read, or walk around the grounds. I had decided it was time for a little walk. I picked myself out of the chair and walked over to the pool for a while, which had begun to fill up again with the younger generation. Water fights, splashes thrown all around. Lots of fun. These were the 12- to 17-year-olds. The younger ones were already at the magic show set up for them. I loved watching the kids in the pools their lithe bodies glistening in the sun. Their laughter. We all would like to return to those days. While gazing at the pool, I noticed my friend Yoav on the far side of the pool. He was also looking at the kids … and at me. We had arranged that he would come to the picnic grounds by himself as I didn’t want to upset any special balance in my family structure. Yoav and I had been seeing each other now for 2 months. It all began with our chance meeting on the Internet. We immediately realized that we had a lot in common. Very similar sexual tastes and desires and it was a perfect opportunity for us to get together. He flew all the way over from North America for a 2-week stay. We arranged that he would stay in a bed-and-breakfast very close to my house. Because I have a lot of free time during my workdays, it was a perfect arrangement. I could see him for a few hours in the morning and also I had most nights free where I was able to go to his room in the hotel and we would play our games.

(more…)

I am so exhilarated today. I just got a raise in my salary and the lease on our apartment came through. So I decided to put on my favorite jeans with all the patches and my t-shirt and go out into the country to one of my favorite spots. I made myself a picnic lunch, got in the car and quickly and excitedly drove out of the city limits. I’m bopping along the roadway, listening to my favorite Billy Holiday disc and realize that I am ravenous with hunger. I stopped at a small little truckstop along route 3, about halfway between my home and my destination. Filled myself on steak and potatoes, fresh O.J. and some good homemade apple pie with a good steaming cup of coffee. I was set for the rest of the day, to be taken at my leisure and how I determined the flow of events. Got back in the car, plopped my Dead Can Dance disc on, and continued on my merry way. About an hour later, I arrived at the big National Park. I decided to take the periphery road and go to my favorite spot - Peak’s Head.

Good choice! The parking lot was empty. Time: 1:10. The whole day ahead of me. What a blast! I parked the car, took my blanket from the trunk and headed out. Solitude! Just what the doctor ordered.

(more…)

“You damn kids are always putting something you’re not supposed in the toilet, or pouring grease down the drain, or God only knows what!” The old plumber grumbled as he stumbled through my one-bedroom apartment toward the bathroom. “I tell ya, one of these days, I’m just gonna up and quit, and then all you people will be fucked!”

I was highly put off by his tone and his attitude. I had been fighting with the apartment manager for a week to get someone to look at a leak in my shower. Every time I’d use it, the carpeting in the bedroom behind it would be soaked. I’d already lost a few items that were on the closet floor from the water, and I wasn’t about to ’swim’ in my bedroom.

At the nervous age of 20, I wasn’t exactly prepared to get into an argument with Howard, the fat old grump who worked as the Maintenance Technician for the complex. I would swear that the apartments were built around him, that’s how old he seemed to me.

Anyway, he stumbled through my apartment, looking in the bathroom, and then the bedroom closet. Finally, he re-emerged grumbling, “We’ll have to rip out the wall!”

(more…)

“Why so glum, chum?”

I know that’s an awful pick-up line. But I’m not feeling very creative tonight. It’s 11PM on Christmas eve, and I’m sitting in a smoky gay bar in San Antonio, Texas. The dude sitting beside me is staring morosely into his mug of Lone Star on tap. He hasn’t moved once since I walked in and sat down next to him a few minutes ago.

“You talkin’ to me?” The dude I spoke to finally looks my way. But his glasses, tinted blue, obscure his eyes.

I grin at him. “That Christmas cheer you’re drinking doesn’t seem to have kicked in yet, buddy.”

He offers up a weak grin. “Hi. I guess I’m havin’ my mid-life crisis a few years early. I’m Tex, by the way.”

“Hi. I’m David. And I’m a lonesome cowboy in a strange city on Christmas eve. What can we do to cheer each other up, Tex?” I toss him a sly smile, but he seems oblivious to it.

And he ignores my question. “What time is it?” Tex inquires.

I give him an incredulous look. There’s a big Pearl Beer clock on the wall just across the bar from us. “Ah declare, Tex! You must be one of them back woods boys who ain’t learned to tell time yet.”

(more…)

The setting is central California. The character “Michael” is age 15 and “Jimmy” is age 7 in the year 2001. They don’t know one another, even though they both live in Palo Alto, only a few blocks apart. And it will be 14 more years before they finally meet one another. This is the story of their first meeting, which takes place in the year 2015. Michael is now 29 and Jimmy is 21. At first blush, Michael’s actions may offend some readers. But don’t rush to judgment. THINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS AS THEY SEEM. And now, onward into the future: 2015 - A Sex Odyssey.

“What a dump! What kind of crummy resort hotel is this, anyway?! I can’t believe the glacial pace of their pokey check in clerk. And they make me share a room with another guy! Some guy I don’t even know.” I direct my remarks at the dude sitting on a bed across the room from me.

“You’re funny, kid,” the dude responds. “Don’t you know this place is always booked solid? This joint is trendy, man. People flock here. I don’t know, maybe it’s because all meals are included.” The dude has a deep, masculine voice. And a sparkling grin to die for.

(more…)