"Touch it piggy," my wife Julie said sternly when she saw the indecision on my face.
We had been swinging for more than a year but we were a soft swap couple. I had no desire to watch my sexy wife with another man and she did not want to watch me fuck another woman.
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Last winter I decided to get back into snowboarding on a more regular basis. It was something I did a lot when I was younger and thought it would be better that sitting on my ass all winter. I got a season pass to the small resort that was close to my home and started riding a couple of time a week, that is, if you can call it a "resort", it's really just a small group of hills.
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Damien
I was already in love with Elijah by the time I saved him from a rapist thug, but I hadn't really admitted it to myself.
I first noticed him when I was manning a merchandise stall at No Way Out -- the big venue hired for hardcore punk gigs where both straight-edgers and skins can come, kids from either side of the bridge and the two different scenes.
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I always knew of the man who lived in the house at the end of the dead end street as the Creeper. His real name was Mr. Manson, and I thought that his first name was Barry or Barney or something like that. The word around the school was that he liked boys, and from the time I was in elementary school, to the time I was a senior in high school, I was warned by other kids to stay away from his house.
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The day of The Dance finally came. Actually, come to think of it, it was not a dance at all! It was just a huge party that was held annually at one of the mansions in the neighborhood and everyone was invited to it. Nobody knows when the exact date of The Dance was. Hell, none of us knew who the organizers were because the mansion where The Dance was held had no records of any owners, dead or alive.
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As the family wagon pulled into a small truck stop in the middle of nowhere, Jack's father turned to him and his mother.
"Who else is hungry? "
They had been driving across state to visit family and were now heading back home again. The problem is that it's a long drive and Jacks iPod ran out of battery a long time ago.
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Mark and I had been conversing for a couple of weeks via e-mail. We had met on a sports related message board and were both bitching about some of the recent trades. That changed when Mark told me he was going to send me something in the next e-mail. It turned out to be a picture of his cock.
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"Hey, Kev!" my sister called from the other room. "Telephone, Kev." I slid my tv dinner in the stove real quick to keep it warm and wiped my hands before padding over to the phone.
"Hello," I said into the receiver while carrying it into the kitchen with me.
"You ready?" asked a familiar voice, a voice I'd been dying to hear for almost 7 months now.
"Raymond?!" I exclaimed. "Shit, I can't believe it's you!"
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One warm Saturday morning in June I decided on a shopping trip to Birmingham, a drive of around 60 miles. The journey, which I had made many times before, was pleasant and uneventful in the sunshine. On arrival I parked my car in the open-air public car park, threw my jacket into the boot and walked towards the road leading up to the shopping centre.
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As I stood with the rain slowly soaking through my coat, I wondered not for the first time if coming out as gay might not have been such a good idea after all. If only I'd kept it to myself, I reasoned, then Siân would never have bullied me into going with her to the city's annual Pride festival.
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