Friday, February 24, 2012

DADDY’S BOY

By Robert Ralph


I surveyed myself in the mirror once more and was happy with what I saw there. It bothered me a bit that I was so concerned with how I appeared to someone I'd never met, but that was the way I felt. My daily exercising paid off, and at forty six, I still had it together. Jogging every morning and going to the gym certainly paid off. The muscular image looking at me from the mirror was not one to be ashamed of.

It had been a spur of the moment decision to see Alex, a favor to his father, who had been on the wrestling team with me back in college. How many years ago? It seemed like yesterday. I'd read about the boy in the papers as he gained fame as a wrestler, but our paths had never crossed.

I was taken aback when I opened the door and saw him. Alex was in town to check out the state university, where he would probably enroll as a freshman in the fall. He had curly black hair and smoldering black eyes, reflecting his Greek ancestry. When he smiled, my heart raced. This young man was exactly my type, and the grin brightening his entire face excited me. As we exchanged looks, the air was charged with electricity. We both felt the instant chemistry.

"Mr. Sinclair?" he asked, extending his hand. "I'm Alex Pappos. My dad called you about me."

I was so turned on by his exquisite face and full, fleshy mouth that I could barely mumble, "Yeah . . . yeah, Alex. Come on in."
 

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Thursday, February 9, 2012

PETERS PUNK



By JIMMY SEAY


          The day Peter moved in next door, I had some reserved feelings. He had one of those looks, almost an attitude like he was better than everyone else. He was just a year or two older then me, but he appeared to live alone, and I was still living with my parents.



          I didn’t see him much at first, he kept strange hours. I figured he must work at night, but we hadn’t said more than a few words too each other. I was out in the yard one afternoon when Peter came up to me. He wanted me to help him put up a ceiling fan.

          We stood on the same ladder, I held the fan up while he attached it to the ceiling box. It was tight space on the ladder, he was one step above me. His stomach and fly were pressed into the side of my ribs. I suddenly realized that the something hard I felt against me wasn’t his belt buckle.

          The dude had thrown wood and it was touching me! I didn’t know what to do. I felt kind of light headed and I just stayed still and held the fan up.

          As we got off the ladder, I saw the bulge in his shorts and I knew for sure he was boned up. He flipped the switch and we both looked up as the ceiling fan turned. He flopped down on the couch and I heard the sound of a zipper.