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Page Seven
Here and there were candles, centered on small round tables, their
small flames setting a dim glow 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.  Making their way further into the crowded
room, another male image near the back wall 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
Out in August 2008
      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
in Michael 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
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