My Father Cringes When He Sees Kyle Hold My Hand

My Father Cringes When He Sees Kyle Hold My Hand

Barefoot I stand over the edge of the pool. Water swells beneath waiting for my soul. I look ahead. My father cringes when he sees Kyle hold my hand. What is my father doing here? He places his hands in a circle around his mouth and screams. I’m sure he’s calling my name. “Jake.” I can’t hear him through the cacophony of the crowd. He runs towards me.

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My Father Cringes When He Sees Kyle Hold My Hand

Barefoot I stand over the edge of the pool. Water swells beneath waiting for my soul. I look ahead. My father cringes when he sees Kyle hold my hand. What is my father doing here? He places his hands in a circle around his mouth and screams. I’m sure he’s calling my name. “Jake.” I can’t hear him through the cacophony of the crowd. He runs towards me.

He looks angry. I’m certain that if there were a bat around, my father would use Kyle’s head as a baseball and hit a home run.

Kyles squeezes my hand in reassurance. “It’s okay. We can do this.”

Really? He doesn’t know my father. I’m a dead man. I won’t be old enough to go to the Saloon and have a drink with the man I love. “I love you. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you, Kyle.”

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30 Days of Passion

Thirty Days of Passion

I light my fifth cigarette of the morning and smoke into the cool February air.  Taking a sip of my coffee I greet the apartment worker below my balcony as he picks up cigarette butts. “Sorry about that. I told him not to.” I wink at the cute Mexican guy. “You’re new?”

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30 Days of Passion

I light my fifth cigarette of the morning and smoke into the cool February air.  Taking a sip of my coffee I greet the apartment worker below my balcony as he picks up cigarette butts. “Sorry about that. I told him not to.” I wink at the cute Mexican guy. “You’re new?”

“Si. Me llamo Jose. Gusto en conocerle.” He waves and smiles back at me. I can’t help but to stare at his toned body. Dark hair cut short gave him a gangster look, just like my Jose.

“Nice to meet you too.” I wonder how he is in bed. Would he know how to make me scream in ecstasy? Enough of that, am I really that lonely and desperate? He has the same build, same crooked smile. Except that my Jose has eyes that invite you to the dark side and keep you there. Where are you Jose? I just got you and now you’re gone.

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Radiology

Radiology

Franklin sits on the table in the examination room.

“I’m Dr. Rontgen.” Dr. Rontgen stood up and fixed his stethoscope on Franklin to hear his heartbeat. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What makes you say that?”

“My chest hurts, my arm goes numb, I can’t breathe and I can’t move. I almost had a car accident driving here.”

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Radiology

Franklin sits on the table in the examination room.

“I’m Dr. Rontgen.” Dr. Rontgen stood up and fixed his stethoscope on Franklin to hear his heart beat. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What makes you say that?”

“My chest hurts, my arm goes numb, I can’t breathe and I can’t move. I almost had a car accident driving here.”

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My Teens II

I remember when I first turned 18. I had a crush on this kid in wrestling at my school.  And a crush at this Punk, who used to walk me home. If only a guy would take the time to walk me back home today. That’d be funny.  I had fun in High School the wrestling kid always walked me from one class to the other. He was my age. Obviously, he was a wrestler, about 5’9, tight body, beautiful blue eyes and dressed very casual.
The punk on the other hand. He was almost 6 feet. Very thin, smoked and had a lanky body, naturally toned. I only saw him after school hanging out at the field waiting for me.  First, he walked me home from school, after a few months, he picked me up from home and walked me to school.  I know that he lived on the opposite side of the classroom.  I wish I would have done something with either one. Nonetheless, I have fond memories of those two.
There was, however, this one Air Force guy. I was working at a fast food restaurant, and he would come in and place his order. He came in at least twice a week and always waited for me to take his order.  There’s no way I would do that now. We ended up getting together. He would pick me up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays. Yes. Those three days. I didn’t think about it much, but now I would.
Well, come to find out, he was dating two other boys those other days. One of which came up to us at a function with a gun and tried to shoot me.  I dropped him like a hot potato. Dating a guy was not worth my life. I knew that then. Hey, I was mature.
The funny thing is. I later met that kid, and we became good friends for many years before he died of Aids. I miss him. My mom misses him. She loved him dearly. She used to greet him by tapping the top of her head just like he did when he met her.
Nowadays, if a guy only saw me certain days of the week, then I know that there’s something fishy going on. He’s probably married, with kids. Or on the Down Low. Anyway. I’d probably tell him to his wife just to get to meet her.  Oh. Wait, I did that.
Share with me your experiences. I want to know what happened to you.
This will make sense with the three requirements I’ll write in the future.  I was asked to be some old guy’s boy toy. No sex, he didn’t believe that man should have sex with each other. He had a painful experience. He just wanted me to live with him, sleep with him (literally sleep, no sex) and go with him to nightclubs, dinners, and shows. I thought wow. I can be someone’s boy toy. Nope, I didn’t want to be told what I can and can not do. What if I wanted sex? Who do I call over? Do I call when he’s asleep?

 

The Man of my Dreams

Well, that’s why I made this blog.  To let you know how I’m going to get him.  Maybe It’s you, or you, or you.  I don’t.  I genuinely wish it was Gavin Dunn, but I won’t hold my breath.
Take a look at this blog and tell me what kind of laugh you’re getting. Stay focused and move forward. That’s my goal. Yes in deedee.
I want someone that is nice. I don’t much look into age. Of course, he needs to be over 21. I would like a drink now and then.  Under 100. Yes, the centennials are out. I would talk about 1980, and he’s going to talk about the 1880’s. Not going to happen.
Sincere. I know way too many guys that are so into themselves. All they talk about themselves. It’s about them. You’re dying in the hospital, and all they can talk about is a pimple on their nipple and how much it hurts.

 Good looking. Of course, that’s subjective. What I think is cute may not be what everyone thinks is cute.  So who knows. Maybe you’re cute.
Employed or at least seeking a job.  I don’t care what you do for a living. If you’re a drug dealer, then make sure I live in a mansion. If you’re at a restaurant, bring me some good food.  I’m looking for a multimillionaire that will finance all my whims. I will settle for someone that is dirt poor and loves me for who I am. You can be my silver, my gold, my platinum, my aluminum for that matter, just love me.

Age is Irrelevant

Age is Irrelevant at 20, 30, 40’s and beyond.
It doesn’t matter what age you are. What matters is how old your partner is.  People may say, any age is good as long as their is love. I agree with that. Age should not be relevant. But in many cases it is. It just depends on how you are, as I said before.
When I was teen, I was attracted to older men. By older I meant two to three years. High School seniors, College guys, military guys. The whole prospect of someone older than 25 was unthinkable. My first love was when I was in High School. He was a senior. My first crush, was the 23 year old Physical Education teacher. Brown eyes, brown hair, nice physic. I thought he was the mature kind of guy. The senior was just an idiot chasing my neighbor and sleeping with my girlfriend (sounds like a soap.)
When I was in my twenties, things didn’t change much. I was now attracted to men my own age. Imagine that.  However, there were a couple of cases when an older man (32) caught my attention. It was a very seductive thought. An older man.  Oooohhh. A spoiled rich brat that started working at a fast food restaurant because his father was going to take him off the trust. I still have the silver Chai he gave me. I get a kick when people see me where it. A few gentlemen tried to have a conversation with me in Yiddish.
When I hit my thirties. Bang. Things changed. I dated an 18 year old. For a year. I think. I’ll talk about him later.  Not only that but a lot of younger guys were after me. I felt powerful, young men going after me. Was it my maturity? I doubt it. I was and still probably very immature. I had fun though. Then there was the one that wanted me to pay for everything.
Now, I’m in my 40’s. OMG, I am really dying here.  Since I don’t have a partner, this thing about being forty… Well.  IT SUCKS.  I’m at that age where you’re halfway past your prime and halfway closer to your death. This I will cover a future post about the 3 Requirements in the Gay Community. You’ll like that post. 
You won’t agree. Maybe you will. 

Casual Sex (not for me afterall)

So, I took the plunge. I was really in the mood for some fresh meat. Get it? Fresh Meat?

Anyway, we had the best sex ever. I mean EVER. He knew what he was doing, and he was only 19. I think, maybe 20. Regardless, I didn’t know his age until month’s later. By then it didn’t matter. I had regular sex on a daily basis. I was so exhausted in the mornings that I barely made it work.

I thought I would enjoy the attention. You know the sex. Because there was no other attention; We never talked, never conversed, never left my room. Go would call, come over (wink), do our thing and leave. Or I would call, he would come over (double wink), do our thing, and he would leave.

I was exhausted both mentally and physically. A few month’s of glory was also a few months of hell. I felt lonely and not loved. I wanted more. I want to be loved, talked to, taken out to dinner, a drink, a movie. I’ll settle for a walk around the block. As long as it is with someone that wants me to. Not just for my body, but for my heart, my mind, and yes ME.

So I digress I had the best sex ever and no love. I would trade good sex and no talk, to bad sex and love and comfort.

Okay, I might be lying. You’ll never know. Why? Because I sure don’t.