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Posted on: March 26, 2009
Copyright © 2009 Sticky Pen

I looked over at his handsome face, his eyes squinting to read the digital cable menu. It was 7pm on a Friday night, but we weren’t going out. Mike had to be at work in the morning. So here we were, in bed with our books and remotes all settled for a quiet night in. “Do you wanna watch Scrubs?” he asked blinking tiredly at me. That’s when I noticed the bags under his eyes. My poor boyfriend was working himself to the point of exhaustion all so I could focus on getting my degree. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over and kissed him sweetly on the lips. “So that’s a yes on Scrubs?” he said looking amused. “What ever you want is fine with me babe.” I answered as I snuggled in a little closer to him. “For once you don’t have an opinion about what we watch? What’s up?” I laughed and put my head on his shoulder. He was so warm and comfortable, lying in bed in his raggy sweatpants and threadbare t-shirt. For some reason it was all just such a turn on. “I’m just happy to be with you, I honestly don’t care what we watch tonight.” He smiled at me and put his arm around me, running his nails up and down my bare back lazily, after a minute his strokes were becoming a little harder, his hand dipping below the waist band of my pajama pants, over my ass and back up again. ...

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Posted on: February 21, 2009

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The Photographer, Chapter 2

Posted on: February 11, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

Mickey called at noon on Monday to be sure that Kent was expecting him - which, of course...he was! Maybe "anticipating" would be a better term! Kent decided to "push the envelope" a bit...cock ring and gauze shorts. This would give Mickey something to look at while he was shooting pictures...might even make some of the pictures better! Mickey arrived promptly at three...wearing a tank identical to the one Kent had on the previous week, and a pair of skin tight 501 cut-offs. His backpack was slung over one shoulder. "Hey, man...great to see you again! You're really a 'right on time' guy, which I appreciate." "Actually...I had to circle the block a couple times so I wouldn't be too early!" "Don't worry about that...any time you want to be early, be my guest! In fact...any time you're in the neighborhood and want to drop in, that'd be cool too. You really look hot in that tank, by the way!" "Thanks to you...you looked so hot the other day I had to find a tank like you had on! Hope you don't think I'm a copy-cat!" "I'm flattered...you can copy me any time you want...!" "Wow...those are cool shorts you've got on...even cooler than the ones you had on the other day. I wanted to find a pair of those too, but couldn't...now I'd like a pair like these!" "I just might get some for you...you can only get them through a catalog I have...I'll ...

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The Ranch Hand

Posted on: February 11, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

The smell of a ranch is something I have always loved. The grass and horses, the fresh scent of the creek that inevitably runs through the land are things that have lived inside me since childhood, having grown up in a mountain valley. The crisp aroma of freshly fallen snow and the abundant smells of the flora are memories I had missed for a long time living in a congested city.Having an extended vacation from work, I decided I needed my fix of the country life, so I rented a cabin in the mountains near where I grew up and decided to stay there to rekindle my sense of peace that I consistently had in that environment. The place I stayed was a working ranch and campground. The small wooden dwellings, with rough-hewn wood and stone smokestacks were high on the mountainside. Everyday, the wife of the rancher would have a family style breakfast in the long house for everyone staying at the site. After the hearty meal of pancakes, bacon and eggs, hash browns and biscuits and gravy, we could choose to work the ranch with the cowhands. I needed to get my hands dirty. I normally worked in a white-collar position that left little time even for gardening, let alone working a ranch. The gym was fine for exercise, but it was the fresh air and sweat from an honest day's work that I needed.After the first few days of simply relaxing, I decided it was time to get ...

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It Began with a Camping Trip

Posted on: February 11, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

Ronnie and I attended the same university and were both 18. We had been friends since we were twelve. Ronnie and I were so close that we often knew what the other was thinking. There were times when I dared not to think it. But, I loved him--as a friend with my head, as a close buddy with my heart, but also in a different way. I discovered that I liked men and I really liked Ronnie. In the summer, as we sat in our shorts, cross-legged, playing cards or checkers, I'd try to secretly peek up from his thighs as the pink head of his cock poked through the bottom of his cut-offs. It happened quite a bit, so I always wondered if he did that on purpose. Maybe it was his strategy for winning the game. He probably figured that my concentration would be elsewhere! I kept that sight of him stored in my mind for inspiration as I emptied my balls in bed at night while I tried to imagine what his naked body looked like. As open-minded as he was, it still seemed a risk too big for me to take to tell him how I felt. Life without his touch was hard enough, but life without him around was unthinkable. I'd tried to suppress my feelings for him. But it was difficult because the mere sight of him would always make me hard. Everything that we did together only fueled my desires. When I tossed him ...

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Georgia Peaches

Posted on: February 10, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

I’ve always heard that Georgia peaches were the juiciest and sweetest peaches in the US but it turns out there was something else that was juicy and sweet there, Jesse. I moved to Georgia for work and after all the long good byes, moved into a cozy but small ranch house. Although the community was nice, most weren’t tolerant of difference, say for example, homosexuality so I couldn’t really date because if I met someone, they would bring their friends to kick my ass. I was driving to work when I happened to notice that a guy on the side of the road had his car steaming. I drove to where he was and asked if he needed any help. “Actually I need to call to get this thing towed and I need to get to work. I’m sorry for asking but can I use your cell?” I let him use my phone because A: He asked so nicely and B: He was cute and asked in a subtle southern drawl. The guy took only a few minutes to get here which was surprising but then again this was a small community. After he got his car towed and asked if he could get a ride to work. I said to hop in. “My name’s Jesse. Do you live around here? Cause I know most of the people round here but I don’t know you.” “My name’s Dan and I just moved from New York City. Nice to meet you.” ...

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A Gift?

Posted on: February 10, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

He was there every Thursday evening. I was going around to meetings like this one—a regular support group meeting on depression in men, held at a local church hall—for the whole semester as part of my practicum assignment. When he had first arrested my attention, he was sitting four pews in front of me and across the aisle. I saw him in three-quarters profile, as he was concentrating hard on the speaker of the day. I remember thinking how handsome he was - handsome and sad-looking. He could have been anything between forty and fifty, I suppose. The pepper-gray, neatly trimmed hair on his head and in his beard and mustache leaned me toward fifty, but his sharp features and the fact that he seemed to have been depressed for some time indicated that he might be considerably younger and just was slowly giving up on life. Not that he had given up on himself. He looked in good trim and always wore well-pressed sports shirts and khaki pants. I don't know what made my attention always return to him on those evenings. Maybe it was that he was always paying such close attention but never asked a question or made a comment of his own. Or maybe it was that little gold earring he wore in his left ear, catching the light off the chandeliers high overhead whenever he turned his head, catching my attention at the periphery of my vision. He seemed apart from the others around us, and ...

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Georgia Peaches, Part 2

Posted on: February 10, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

I woke up Sunday morning expecting me to be in my bed with the warm sheets covering me and 5 voicemail calls from my friends asking me how I was doing. It shocked me to wake up to a clear bright sunny open sky. I recalled last night’s events and remembered about my make out session with Jesse. I turned to wish him a good morning but he was not there. Neither was the blanket or the basket that he came with. There was however a note. Dear Dan, Sorry I left but I need to figure out some things. Although last night was fun, I’m not sure it can happen again. I’m sorry for misleading you and I’ll call you when I’m done thinking. Sincerely, ...

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Guitar Lessons

Posted on: February 09, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

What his intentions were when he asked me to teach him how to play guitar? I’m not quite sure I know, or that I’ll ever know, and after that day I’m not sure it mattered. Whether he was straight or not, whether he wanted to or not, whether he himself cared or not. I had liked Eli for about a year after I first saw him in my engineering class, sitting and just in a daze, lost but sure he was where he needed to be. A whole year of silence from him; the guy with the thick brown hair, light hazel eyes, light skin, half built arms and the delicate yet strong, soft hands that I now watched move across the fretboard of my guitar. That same guy sat in my apartment with me; the best piece of decoration in the room.“No, listen to the song. You gotta slow down a bit or your timing will go all retarded.” I told him, helplessly smiling.“Yeah I’m sorry, I’m just a bit of a slow learner.” He replied with a semi-chuckle.“No it’s no problem, I have lots of patience” another helpless smile escaped me, and I turned my head away to avoid making it too obvious that I was more than glad to sit right there, in front of him and just watch him be himself. He noticed it, or maybe he didn’t all I knew is that he looked at me shortly before turning his concentration back on the music and ...

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Chesapeake Night

Posted on: February 09, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

I had forgotten how breath taking it all could be as I sat there on the dock. We had had dinner, together, at a small table, dipping our crab in melted butter as the horizon over the bay turned red then purple then royal blue. It was a peaceful and surreal string of moments, great food, a little wine and for dessert, the stars. He had married my sister, three years my junior. That’s how long the marriage had lasted. She had been so sweet and so innocent, but as soon as she slipped out from the thumb of my stern father, almost as instantaneous as Kent had slipped the ring on her finger, she had gone wild. The booze, the drugs, the affairs, but after forgiving her time after time after time, she disappeared into eternity leaving him broken and alone. We had not been close then, and really had no reason to keep in touch, but like the beacon somewhere on the other side of the bay we dined, and Kent had been there for me, when my own wife had lost her battle. It seemed the old adage was true, it did take one to know one. Kent helped me like no one else could. He alone would know how painful it was when you had to finally stop holding the hand of the one thing you loved more than life itself and let it slip away. I had not seen him in; oh it must have been, ...

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Closing Time

Posted on: February 09, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

I could still remember Tom’s first day at work. How could I forget? Usually our male managers were all dumpy fellows with Napoleon complexes, but not Tom. He was the complete opposite. He was in his mid thirties but certainly did not look it. He was 6’2”, broad shouldered, dark haired, with a smile that would make you melt. All the girls at work lusted after him, often making complete fools of themselves. I must admit I often found myself doing the same. That was whenever he tracked me down. I had a habit of avoiding him since being close to him for too long often resulted in instant arousal. I used to think he enjoyed making me squirm; he would always flash that killer smile at me, resulting in me turning several shades of red. On one particular busy night after the store had closed, I was so immersed in cleaning up that I completely missed Tom’s announcement that everyone was free to go home. It wasn’t until they turned off the lights that I realized I was the only one left; there was no one in the store. As I walked towards the back of the store, relief came over me. There was a light on in the managers’ office. I guess Tom decided to stay and finish some paperwork, I thought. As I neared his door, I realized he was on the phone and by the sound of it, in the middle ...

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Posted on: February 08, 2009


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A Fond Memory

Posted on: February 08, 2009
Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen

As I lay beside him I looked into his eyes, those chocolate brown eyes that had drawn me to him all those years ago. I touched his hand and I can’t help but notice how his milk chocolate skin still complements my snow white complexion. How far we have come since that day we first met. I still remember it so well like it had just happened. I was on the swim team, and most if not all of the girls had their eyes on me. Although girls were not quite for me, it was still quite flattering. I was captain of the team for three of the four years I was in high school. It was my senior year and my grades had always suffered but my coach was always able to convince the teachers to make slight changes so that I could stay on the team. However now there was talk of me not being able to graduate and with the scholarship offers that I had that was not a possibility. My parents and the teachers decided that I would need to get a tutor. I was not too excited about that idea, until I saw him. I opened the door and he put his hand out to greet me, “Hi my name is James are you Brandon?” he asked. He was a sophomore in college and the sexiest man I ever had laid eyes on, His skin so smooth and dark, he was taller than me and had ...

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