The follwing story is a work of fiction, based on facts from my life. The names of all parties have been changed to protect their "innocence".
"Hey Jim, you need anything from Supply while I'm down there?"
"Naw, I'm good Marv, thanks anyway."
I headed down the hall to the elevators so I could get to Supply. It was Thursday, and I was winding up some details so my weekend wouldn't be interrupted by any calls from the office.
As Ted Biondi looked at the young man through the peephole of the motel room he was staying in, the 57 year old salesman enjoyed the gawky kid's fidgeting as he seemed to be trying to summon up enough courage to knock on the door.
He certainly looked like a geek, which was what Ted had him figured for when they spoke on the phone after Ted had read his ad on Craigslist, in which he claimed he was a 19 year old bisexual male looking for fun with an older man.
"Hey, Danny, come here!"
I drop my book, a ragged old paperback I've read a million times, and head towards my little brother's room. He's several years younger than me, 18 to my 23, and he really looks up to me. It's pretty cute. I've only been home for fall break two days and James has found about every excuse he can to bug me. I head down to his room, which is at the end of the hall from mine, and poke my head in. No James- only some posters (the one of the busty singer in rainbow panties makes me chuckle) and a scattered game system. "James?"
"You first encountered the defendant where, Mr. Philips?"
"At my gym. We were members of the same gym."
I did not want to be here, in this courtroom. But the DA had intimidated me. He had said that they might delve deeper into why I was in Baltimore—why I had left San Diego. I really didn't want them to do that. I had just fallen into it in San Diego.
This all started because I decided, against all advice, to major in religious studies in college. I know, it sounds like a dumb choice, but it's what I was interested in and I decided to follow my grandmother's advice to pursue my passion rather than the practical choices everyone else thought I should make.
Before starting my tour of duty in Okinawa, I thought my primary talent was playing the piano. I was soon to learn otherwise, though, and my late coming to "the" life gripped me like a disease or an unshakable habit.
I had known since not long after puberty that I had an unusual attraction. I had formed friendships quickly from my days in high school—and not just with my school chums but with their parents as well.
I had sat there at Joey's beachside bar for more than an hour, watching the young man playing in the surf. When I'd first arrived at the bar, both bored and out of sorts, I'd seen him on his surfboard, riding the waves and doing quite well at it. At length, however, I saw him tire of that and come up on the beach and bury the tip of the board into the wet sand, with a strong force that, in itself, would have arrested my attention.
When I got to college, I was the only freshman in the senior dorm. I had planned to go to another school but at the last minute I changed my mind. Richards Institute where I had originally planned to go had a wonderful fine arts program, which was my field; but I had been accepted at Rodgers University, and when push came to shove I just couldn't give up the opportunity to go to one of the Big League schools. So by the time I decided to go to Rodgers and applied for a room, the freshman dorms were all filled.
I had always been curious, even if it was just a pang of interest in my mind. Growing up, I had lusted over girls like any other adolescent, the word "vagina" was almost enough to make me cum on the spot. As I grew up, however, I learned to embrace my sexual interests. Once I began to look at pornography, I realized that my eyes were not drawn immediately to the cunt and tits, but to the cock. From that age forward, I began to explore with my gay curiosity.
If you ask me now what I was doing there, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t remember much about that day; where I was going, who I needed to see, even which direction I was headed. The only thing that stuck out was a chance sighting on the subway of the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on.
He was like a vision from a dream. Tall and slim with delicate, tanned and seemingly hairless flesh that peeked out of the top of a silken button-down shirt.