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Originally published in PlayGuy magazine February, 2002

 

 

I knew I was gay during my senior year in High School but I still didn't join the new Gay-Straight Alliance group that started up. I told myself it was because I was a loner and didn't care to be a part of any clubs, gangs, teams or mobs. I got bored with people pretty fast, it seemed like after a week or so I knew everything there was to know about them and the rest was just repetitive babble. But the real reason I didn't join up (okay, I felt a little guilty about it) was because I'd seen them around and not one of them gave me a boner. If I wasn't going to have sex with any of them, then why the fuck bother? 

     

 

 

I was driving up to the state campus to familiarize myself with the layout so's I wouldn't feel like a jackass in September. My car was an old piece of shit and broke down in a small (hamlet? village? town?) place along the way. I pushed it to a garage and the mechanic said he could get it running but it wouldn't last long. We eyeballed each other for a while and then he suggested we go into the office. We made out and I thought he was going to fuck me because he was like a muscled tattooed dude but instead he sucked my dick and then begged me to fuck him. He bent over a messy cluttered desk and spread his butt wide with his grease-stained hands and I sunk it home. While I was plowing him I noticed we'd knocked down a photograph of him with the wife and kiddies. I asked if he was still married and he said yeah, and we gotta hurry a little because he had to pick them up at the sitters. I took my time anyway. 

 

 

 

When my car finally died I went to the used car lot to see what I could afford. The salesman was pretty insistent about be taking this huge ancient gas-guzzler for a test drive. It took me a minute to catch on that he was sporting wood and didn't really intend to sell me the big boat, he just wanted to take a ride with me and those wide padded seats. We drove until he indicated a dirt road behind a big billboard that would be okay  for us to "park and play" at. We groped each other for a while but what he really wanted was a sloppy blowjob while I torturously pinched his nipples. So I sucked him off and bruised his chest and afterwards we went back to the lot where I like to think he gave me a decent break on '89 compact that ran pretty well.

 

 

 

A couple of weeks later I was in this run-down diner. There was only me and a red-haired businessman in the non-smokers area. The waitress ignored us after delivering our orders, it seemed like she resented having to park her cigarette before serving us. The man kept looking at me. When he was done he went towards the restroom on this side of the diner and I followed him. While we were staring at each other's hard-ons at the urinals he asked if I had a bag. I pulled out a condom and he gestured towards the last stall. He rolled the latex on his cock and yanked my pants down before pushing me up against the partition. He spit on a finger to loosen me up before fucking the hell out of me. I kinda liked the way his belly fit my back. It was over in like five minutes and he pulled out, the scumbag ballooned at the tip with all the jizz he'd shot. He was heading for the sink when I spoke up.     

"Hey, mister. Did you ever think about living like a gay person? You know, all out about it." He looked annoyed at my breach of protocol but then took in my youth and the blob of cum I'd dumped on the floor and sighed.

"When I was about your age my wise old granny offered me some good old country advice. She pulled me into the kitchen one day and said, 'Remember, boy. You ain't gotta put on a party dress to dance the night away.'and believe me, I've been dancing ever since." 

 

 

 

 

 

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