Boy loves Boy

I'm not sure I would have gone out with him if he had been straight.

I knew he was gay and that made me look at him twice. He was sweet, kind of cute. And then there was his history, the magic of all the men he had loved before me. The secret slide show of them flicks past in my imagination, a pornographic film with this boy as the star of every frame.

This boy could be my boy. He liked me. He didn't like girls but he liked me, this odd girl-boy who seemed to like sex as much if not more than him. We could become a team. A wonderful sexy team.

I made love to his previous indiscretions. There were other men in the room with us. I imagined them all into existence. I introduced myself to them whilst I was in bed with him. I turned him over and I became them, retelling his stories as he lay on his stomach and closed his eyes. I inhabited the young boy who lived upstairs. I lifted Richard''s hips with the boys hands and reached for the lubrication and I entered him with slow fingers, prizing him apart and finding a cruel rhythm just as the boy upstairs had done. I felt the power of it, the joy of being completely in control. I liked the stillness of his body beneath me.

"I want to watch you make love to a man." I told him, and he was in no position to refuse.