IMAGES
Page Seven
Here and there were candles centered on small round tables, small
flames setting dim glows on faces, motionless men with peering eyes.
As Johnny adjusted to the dark, he made out human forms in
expanding numbers, all wearing various configurations of black
leather.  He saw draping chrome chains and tattoos, exposed chests
and shaven heads, pierced nostrils, ears and lips.  Masculine forms
all, sitting behind pitchers of beer; no women, no mouths graced with
a smile.  At the back of the crowded room, another male image on a
makeshift stage took form, a dancer of sorts, wearing a pair of black
leather chaps, his legs covered and nothing else.  Was it a dance,
those wild undulations, that semi-flaccid penis whirling like a
propeller?

The Strange Haunting of Johnny Feelwater
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  A moment later his shirt was off.  He went for the jeans: the belt
unbuckled, the zipper down, his thumbs hooked inside the
waistband.  He looked up just before pushing them down his legs.  
Michael was standing near the edge of the water, watching him.  
Then, with just a hint of reluctance, the jeans came down his long
black legs and he kicked them aside.
  Michael closed his eyes for a moment and smiled.  
He’s as
beautiful as I imagined
.  “Okay,” he said, opening his eyes.  His
heart quickened.  Justin had decided to let go of some old
inhibitions and it had awakened some familiar chemistry.  “You
know I’m gay, so do you mind if I just look at you for a minute?”

From   A SONG IN THE PARK
A novel for anyone who enjoys these pictures