January 30, 2007
I read every word. Then I read it again. “This is to certify that ———– has been Honorable Discharged from the United States Navy, etc., etc., etc.” My sea bag was packed, I was wearing my dress blues and my shoes were shined. I headed for the quarterdeck one last time. A snappy salute to the Officer of the Deck and a salute to the flag, my sea bag on my shoulder, I descended the gangplank to the pier. I turned around and looked at the ship once more, the ship that was my home for the past three years. As all sailors do, I had a great affection for my ship. We were in battle together. We survived. I was proud to have served aboard her. I saw Pete waving to me from the hanger deck.
“Let’s have one last drink together at that local bar,” he yelled.
“OK,” I yelled back, “I’ll wait for you there.”
I toted my sea bag (all I had in the world) to the bar, just off the base. When I walked in it was as if I were experiencing a de’javu. Same bartender, another baseball game on the same TV. I plopp
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January 27, 2007
I read every word. Then I read it again. “This is to certify that ———– has been Honorable Discharged from the United States Navy, etc., etc., etc.” My sea bag was packed, I was wearing my dress blues and my shoes were shined. I headed for the quarterdeck one last time. A snappy salute to the Officer of the Deck and a salute to the flag, my sea bag on my shoulder, I descended the gangplank to the pier. I turned around and looked at the ship once more, the ship that was my home for the past three years. As all sailors do, I had a great affection for my ship. We were in battle together. We survived. I was proud to have served aboard her. I saw Pete waving to me from the hanger deck.
“Let’s have one last drink together at that local bar,” he yelled.
“OK,” I yelled back, “I’ll wait for you there.”
I toted my sea bag (all I had in the world) to the bar, just off the base. When I walked in it was as if I were experiencing a de’javu. Same bartender, another baseball game on the same TV. I plopp
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January 26, 2007
“Well… the end has come at last. It’s taken me a little over a year to write this story and I’d like to say a big thank you to all the kind people who have read A Boy Who… in its entirety (some of you, amazingly, more than once!) You’ve been very patient with me, and I’m so grateful for all the wonderful comments and e-mails you’ve sent. It just makes me happy to know that you’ve taken some pleasure from Rayne’s sorry tale and that makes all the hard work worth while.
I wrote A Boy Who… for my friend Ant, who originally wanted a role in a vampire tale. This epilogue is for him. It’s a strange little piece, written as a bridge between Rayne’s life and his Unlife. I hope I’ve done him justice.
A Happy New Year to you all!
Love… Sadie.xxx”
*
TEN YEARS LATER:
(LONDON — SEPTEMBER 1999)
It was already dark outside when Mr. Wright left the cinema on Shaftesbury Avenue. A steady drizzle made the pavements gleam in the coppery glow of the streetlights. He turned up his collar, dissatisfied
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January 25, 2007
Standing contrapposto, I stare at myself in the mirror and gently smile.
The music on the radio fades in and out from a static to a strong signal as if each shift of my body entire affects its clarity.
The day has been long and bleak, it’s only positive occurring earlier when I got drunk and had such a wild time on the dance floor.
And as I stare at myself, thoughts wander in and out of the many possibilities regarding what the night has and will bring.
I run both of my hands through my hair to the back of my head, and then slowly down over my bearded face, and breathe deeply as I continue to stare at myself in the mirror.
Bent upward, my arms are long and slender, as my fingers shiver slightly near the quiver of my mouth. Bent upward, almost in a position for praying and at 24, I feel so young and yet so old at the same time. But the assuredness of my gentle smile has gone and I sigh as I reach over to my nightstand to turn the radio off.
I pick up a glass of water that has sat there since the m
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January 21, 2007
It was raining steadily and I was soaking wet and cold. I had missed the last bus and still had 15 miles to go when I heard a car approaching from behind. I turned quickly and raised my arm, the driver passed me and then stopped. I ran to the car and a man of around 50 opened the door and said “Get in quickly” which I did and the car gathered speed, ” Where are you heading for” he asked. “I’m on my way back to the Training College but I missed my damned bus and started to walk.”
“What you really need is to dry out and a warm drink inside you, I live on the way and you can come to my place if you wish, or do you have to be back tonight?.”
“No, I have the weekend to myself, the College is empty, and if it’s not too much bother I would like to get out of these wet clothes.”
There was a strange look in his eyes as he spoke
“Great idea, I am alone at home tonight, so full speed ahead and we’ll get those wet clothes off you. By the way, my name is Jim.”
“I’m George and glad to me
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January 14, 2007
Chapter Two – LIVE AT THE FALCON
A WORD FROM YOUR AUTHOR: “A warning to those who regularly read these evil, perverted stories. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SHAMELESS HETEROSEXUAL NAUGHTINESS. If such behaviour offends or revolts you, please skip most of the last page. To the rest of you happy degenerates, enjoy!” xx. Sadie
THE MORNING AFTER:
Rayne needed to sleep after the rigors of his enema-induced multiple climax. Ant curled up with him under the duvet for a while, holding the beautiful young man in his arms until his breathing slowed and steadied. However he could not relax. Once he was sure that Rayne was sound asleep, he got up again and wrapped the quilt snugly around his delicious new house-boy, then pulled on some clothes.
It had stopped snowing outside and once he came up on deck he took a long breath of the damp, cold London air, wishing they were somewhere warmer; somewhere he could sail out onto the open ocean and drop anchor to screw Rayne, naked on the decking in the balmy sunshine.
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January 11, 2007
The sky was a husky purple, the sun made the clouds into a stunning rainbow of dusk, and Seth Nathaniel Jones was sobbing in his bathroom. He sat in the bathtub with knees drawn up under his chin and shielded his rapidly swelling eye that was already a nasty shade of purple. He tried to rationalize the situation, to understand why, but he couldn’t.
He sifted through his memories of his relationship with Mel trying to find something that would make him over look the travesty of their latest fight. He couldn’t think of a single thing. Why had he fallen for him in the first place? Why the fuck did he move in with him knowing that he had violent tendencies? The sad part was that there was no reason. Seth didn’t love this man. He was just lonely.
He let out a humorless laugh. It was kind of ironic. He let loneliness drive him into a relationship and he was alone again. Only now he was bruised and crying. He heard glass shatter in the other room and cringed. This wasn’t the first time this had happened-
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January 7, 2007
My black lover has an ashy-looking, grey film streaked and splotched on his body. So when we get together for sex I smooth baby oil all over his body - on his face, neck, shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, legs, the front and back of them, on his back, firm buttocks, in his crack. I wipe it down with a soft hand towel. Then he sheens, his black skin glistening, big cock up hard, leaking lots of pre-cum.
Since he is so ready he wastes little time with me. He wants me to kiss, lick, suck his nipples; kiss down his chest onto his abs, tongue his navel; kiss, lick, mouth his ballsack; kiss, lick his butt cheeks, lick his crack and rim his puckered hole; come back up and kiss, lick, suck his cock, take it in my mouth.
Once he has his cock in my mouth he fucks my face. He holds me gently by the back of my head, on my neck, and pushes his cock slowly, slowly, deep into my throat. He can sense when he has cut off my air and I am about to gag, choke on the big head of his thick meat. He can even see it bulging in
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January 6, 2007
A short period of time ago I received the following e-mail from someone I had never met before.
I read with much interest your yahoo profile. It seems you may be what I am looking for to finally realize a long time fantasy. I am a 42 year old married male that excites at the possibility of providing oral to another married male (uncut being a big plus) (and bigger then my 5″, even better!!) Me, 5′7″ 165… I responded and asked him to describe himself a bit more and whether he could entertain.
I am a professional, educated, discreet male. NO experience. VERY DISCREET… AND CAN ENTERTAIN. Considered attractive… avg. body shape. Also uncut… trimmed pubes and shaved balls. (Do you trim??)
Have you had any takers?? Any experience?? Please, at your earliest convenience I would very much enjoy hearing from you. I also thrill at the possibility of you looking at photos (xxx) of my very pretty, fit wife… perhaps while being serviced.
sincerely…
A number of years ago I experienced the d
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January 1, 2007
It was raining steadily and I was soaking wet and cold. I had missed the last bus and still had 15 miles to go when I heard a car approaching from behind. I turned quickly and raised my arm, the driver passed me and then stopped. I ran to the car and a man of around 50 opened the door and said “Get in quickly” which I did and the car gathered speed, ” Where are you heading for” he asked. “I’m on my way back to the Training College but I missed my damned bus and started to walk.”
“What you really need is to dry out and a warm drink inside you, I live on the way and you can come to my place if you wish, or do you have to be back tonight?.”
“No, I have the weekend to myself, the College is empty, and if it’s not too much bother I would like to get out of these wet clothes.”
There was a strange look in his eyes as he spoke
“Great idea, I am alone at home tonight, so full speed ahead and we’ll get those wet clothes off you. By the way, my name is Jim.”
“I’m George and glad to me
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