Chapter 12

There are two ways to be fooled.  One is to believe what isn't true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.  Søren Kierkegaard
There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true. Søren Kierkegaard

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Homo!: Chapter 12

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SUMMARY: What if you were homosexual but refused to admit it to anyone, especially yourself? The year is 1971 and fourteen year old Jimmy Barnes has discovered growing up in a small town can be boring in a way not even the solitary masturbation sessions he enjoys so much can relieve. When his best friend takes a job at the local newspaper, Jimmy finds himself on his own for the summer. What follows is a decade long saga with numerous twists and turns, a tale that’ll reveal the best and the worst of the nineteen-seventies and beyond.

WARNING: This story is a work of adult fiction and intended for mature audiences only. Unless otherwise noted, all of the characters in the story are fictional; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. While some of the places described or mentioned in the story are fictional as well, others may be real. However, some liberties may have been taken with the truth to enhance the story. Please note that the story may describe, depict or otherwise include graphic portrayals of relationships between men and/or adolescent boys that are homosexual in nature. If you do not like For approve of such discussions or it is illegal for you to read such material, consider yourself warned. If you continue to read this story, you are asserting you are fully capable of understanding and legally consenting to reading a work of adult fiction.

NOTICE: This story is my property and protected by the copyright laws of the United States and other countries. It may not be reproduced in any form without my written permission. You may download a single copy to read offline and to share with others as long as you credit me as the author. However, you may not use this work for commercial purposes or to profit from it in any way. You may not use any of the characters or fictional places in the story in your own work without my explicit permission. Nor may you use, alter, transform, or build upon the story in any way. If you share this story with others, you must make clear the terms under which it is licensed to them. The best way to do that is by linking to this web page.

NOTES: Please check these notes every week. If there’s something I want to alert you to as I post each chapter, this is where I will I do so.


Part III – March 1975

Chapter 12

I thought I would get to the Hawk and Dove before Eric, but I was wrong about that. As I approached the place, I saw him talking to a distinguished looking older man. He was very well dressed and didn’t seem like someone Eric would know.

That made me wonder who the guy was, but by the time I got to the restaurant he had climbed into a waiting limousine and departed. The whole thing seemed kind of odd.

“That was quick,” Eric said, turning his attention to me. “But never mind; the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned. Shall we go in?”

“I was actually going to invite you back to my place,” I responded, pointing to the townhouse across the street and up the block. “I’m a pretty good cook and it wouldn’t take long for me to whip up something for the two of us.”

“Let’s not,” Eric said, grinning at me. “I wouldn’t want to see a cutie like you slaving away over a hot stove in an apron. Besides, this place is fun even on Mondays; a veritable hotbed of gossip. Everyone who’s anyone on Capitol Hill is going to be wondering who the handsome new boy I’m having lunch with is.”

“Okay,” I responded, embarrassed. “I don’t know how handsome I am, but thanks for the compliment. I’m may not be much of a lunch companion though. I forgot to ask Jeff for some money so I won’t be having anything. But I’ll be happy to join you. I’ve been looking forward to talking to you, Eric. At some place other than a bar, I mean.”

“Me too,” Eric said, ushering me into the restaurant.

Finding a place off in a corner, he motioned for me to sit down. Then he wandered over to the bar and talked to the guy behind it.

“I ordered two burgers, one side of fries and one onion rings for us,” he said, joining me at the table. “That’s what this place is known for, burgers and fries; and just to be healthy, I went with water rather than soft drinks.”

It made me laugh.

“I guess you can never be too healthy,” I said, grinning at him.

“I know, I know; I really shouldn’t be eating this stuff given what it does to my face,” he replied. “But what can I say. I love fried food. By the way, Jimmy, that’s a great outfit you’re wearing; I mean, really great. I didn’t figure you for a purple kind of guy, but that shirt looks terrific on you.”

“And those pants,” he added, grinning; “they really show off your assets to best effect if you catch my drift.”

“Do you really like them?” I asked, pleased he had noticed. “I wasn’t sure, but Jeff said you’d like these things so I let him buy them for me. I’ll pay him back when I get a job.”

“Jeff is very discerning,” Eric replied. “The shirt and pants are a fabulous combination and the belt draws the eye to that incredibly thin waist of yours. You need to get a new coat though. You don’t want to be caught dead in that thing, at least around Washington.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, defensively. “It keeps me warm.”

“I’m sure it does,” Eric replied. “It’s just not very stylish and being stylish is more important than being warm. You should get Jeff to buy you a leather coat like the one he has. I realize all the leather you saw at Outlaws may have turned you off, but a stylish leather coat makes a statement about who you are and that’s important in Washington.”

“Trust Jeff,” he added. “He has excellent taste in clothes.”

Not being sure what to say, I kept my mouth shut.

“Did you have a good time this weekend?” Eric asked, changing the subject.

“I did,” I responded. “It was kind of confusing at times, but it would have been even more confusing if you hadn’t introduced yourself to me at the Hide and Seek. Thanks for doing that. It was nice to finally meet someone my age in Washington, especially someone who knows everything about the city like you.”

“And thanks again for taking us to Exiles & Castaways and Outlaws,” I continued. “I liked the Hide and Seek and Exiles & Castaways; Outlaws, not so much. But I’m glad you took the time to show me around those places even if they were kind of confusing.”

“What was confusing about them?” Eric asked.

“Uh, well, I dunno,” I said. “Everything I guess. As far as the Hide and Seek goes, it was just kind of confusing to see how many people were . . . uh . . . were different; you know, gay. That was a big surprise; and then to see just how many of them were carrying on like that.”

“What do you mean; carrying on?”

“You know,” I said. “I’ve never seen two guys dancing together before or kissing in public. And then to meet that drag queen, Franny Fanny; that was really confusing.”

“That’s because you’re from a small town,” Eric replied. “I’ve met tons of boys like you who were shocked when they first came to Washington and discovered just how many of us there are. Back home a lot of them thought they were the only one in the world who was gay. It can be very liberating knowing there are tons of people like you.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said; “although I’m not sure how alike we are necessarily. Not that it matters that much, I guess, but that was another thing that was surprising.”


“Were all those boys you introduced me to at the different bars really gay?”

“Sure,” he responded. “Like I told you, some of them may say they’re not or that they’re just gay for now; that they like having sex and are just waiting for the right girl to come along. But a lot of them understand they’re gay and aren’t ashamed to admit it, at least when they’re around other gay people.”

Hearing that made me uncomfortable because it almost sounded as if Eric was talking about me in some ways. I felt like I needed to set the record straight.

“Does that bother you, Jimmy?” he asked before I could do so.

“Uh, well, I guess not,” I replied. “It might have a few months ago when I was back home, but I guess it doesn’t bother me anymore; not really. I’m not gay myself, but I don’t have anything against someone being gay. I understand some people are born that way and don’t have any control over it. How you can blame someone for something they can’t change?”

“Now I’m the one that’s confused,” Eric said.

I was about to ask why when the waiter approached with our meals.

“We can share the fries and onion rings,” Eric said. “I shouldn’t be eating this kind of food, but I love it. And both of us are thin after all. You can never be too thin in Washington at our age, but we can afford to put on a little weight.”

“Oh, jeez, I don’t know what to do, Eric,” I replied. “Thanks for ordering lunch for me; I’m hungry so I appreciate it and it definitely looks good. But you shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t be spending anything on me. I’ll ask Jeff for some money tonight and pay you back the next time I see you.”

“Overspent our weekly allowance already,” Eric said, winking at me. “Good for you, Jimmy.”

“What allowance?” I asked, confused. “I don’t get any allowance. That’s why I need to get a job; so I’ll have some money of my own for a change.”

“Now you’re confusing me again, Jimmy,” he replied. “You don’t get an allowance from Jeff? How’s that possible with a cutie like you? Even I get an allowance from Bob and I don’t even put out for him.”

“You get an allowance from Bob?” I asked, surprised.

“Of course,” he responded; “all the boys I introduced you to Friday night at the Hide and Seek get an allowance. I’m shocked Jeff doesn’t give you one.”

“Well, you know, it’s not like I really need one,” I finally replied, surprised. “Jeff pays for everything right now; the rent, the food, and anything else I need if I remember to ask him. But I’m planning to chip in once I get a job.”

“You already have a job, Jimmy,” Eric replied, correcting me.

“What job?” I asked, confused.

“Keeping Jeff happy, of course,” he responded. “I mean, not to get personal or anything, but I’m sure that cute little butt of yours must be getting a nice workout every night bottoming for him.”

“Bottoming?” I said, shocked.

Didn’t he say bottoming means getting fucked Saturday night?

“Oh my Lord, Jimmy,” he responded, his eyes widening even as a look of surprise spread across his face. “You don’t really understand what I’m talking about, do you? I’m sorry. I thought Jeff was your boyfriend and that he was, um . . . you know . . . uh . . . he was . . . .”

Eric was trying to be polite, but by now I realized what he was getting at and that made me even more determined to set him straight.

“Uh, well, Jeff and I are friends. That part is true enough; and, uh, we do sleep together. But like Jeff says, I’m the one that wears the pants in our relationship. He wears the panties.”

Damn, Jimmy, you shouldn’t have told him that.

“No!” Eric replied, grinning at me even as his expression made it obvious he was astonished by what I had said.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I asked, surprised by his reaction.

“It’s just that . . . I mean . . . let’s just say it’s unusual. Most daddies are tops and expect their boys to bottom for them. You do know what bottoming means?”

“As I recall, I think you said something about that Saturday night at Outlaws,” I said. “It’s just I’m getting a little confused with all the new lingo you’ve been teaching me.”

“Oh my; bottoming means getting fucked, Jimmy,” Eric replied. “And you’re telling me that Jeff bottoms for you?”

“Um, well, yeah,” I replied. “That the way it’s been ever since we met. I mean, he’s the one that’s, uh, different. I’m normal. I like girls. I had girlfriends back home and had sex with them too.”

“So you’re telling me you’re bisexual, Jimmy; is that it?”

“I’ve never heard that term either; bisexual,” I said. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a term used for people who enjoy having sex with both boys and girls. You’ve never heard it?”

“Never,” I replied. “Is being bisexual something bad, like being a homo is for most people? Is it something I should be worried about?”

“No, it isn’t,” Eric replied. “It’s just a descriptive term. People are heterosexual, bisexual, or homosexual; at least that’s what the medical profession says. And you’re right; most people are heterosexual and dislike homosexuals. But the truth is there are people who can swing either way. It sounds like you’re one of them. Congratulations.”

I knew about heterosexuals and homosexuals, but no one had ever told me about bisexuals before and I had never heard people being put down for being like that either.

“So it’s not like you or your friends would hate me if I was bisexual?” I asked.

“No, but then again I wouldn’t hate you if you were homosexual either. I’m into boys myself, not girls, at least for now; and so are most of the boys I introduced you to on Friday. But there’s nothing wrong with being bisexual; nothing to be ashamed about. It’s just that it came as a surprise.”

“Not that it changes very much,” he continued. “I mean, it’s still a job keeping Jeff happy and he should be giving you an allowance for that.”

“How much is yours?” I asked.

“Bob gives me $100 a week; more if I help him get off, which is rare. I mean, sometimes I’ll jerk him off if he’s excessively depressed and needs a lift so to speak. But that doesn’t happen very much. He has a problem getting it up, let alone keeping it up.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“But what is the $100 for then?” I asked, curious.

“It’s for keeping him happy, silly,” Eric said, grinning at me.

“Bob doesn’t like himself very much and that made it difficult for him to form a relationship with anyone when he was younger. And now that he’s older and has to live with the consequences of that, he’s very lonely.”

“That’s where I come in,” Eric continued. “Bob likes having someone around the house to talk to. He’s looking for companionship as much as anything; someone to go to places with like the Hide and Seek, someone he can show off. The $100 is for a million little things like that.”

“And you’re doing so much more to keep Jeff happy,” he said, grinning at me. “You should be getting a much bigger allowance; after all, Jeff is getting something, uh . . . something quite tangible out of his friendship with you.”

That made me laugh.

At first I had felt guilty talking about Jeff and me with Eric, but by now I was comfortable doing that. I wanted Eric to know I was the one calling the shots in our relationship.

“Uh, well, he seems satisfied,” I replied, trying to be serious.

But I couldn’t be.

Eric was grinning at me and I started giggling, which caused Eric to start giggling as well. It was like we were sharing a naughty secret and just by sharing it had sealed our friendship.

“Let me ask this,” Eric said, turning the conversation in another direction. “Do and Jeff have an open relationship? I mean, you said you like girls. Does he let you . . . you know . . . does he let you have sex with other people, boys or girls?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We’ve never discussed that. I don’t even know what an open relationship is.”

“It just means you can have sex with whoever you want,” Eric replied. “And you should definitely discuss it with him; I mean, being bisexual and everything, it would be cruel not to let you have fun with other people now and then. So, yes, you should definitely insist on an open relationship; and an allowance too.”

“I’ll think about it,” I replied. “But can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Eric said.

“Friday night you mentioned you and your friends had some kind of club. I was wondering whether you could tell me more about that and whether it’s something I could join. I mean, I was thinking maybe it would be a way to make some new friends; by hanging around and getting to know the members better.”

“I don’t know,” Eric replied. “I mean I can tell you about the club, but not whether you can join. We don’t have a lot of rules, but one rule we do have is that you can’t be admitted unless all of the current members vote you in. It has to be unanimous.”

“As for the club itself, it’s not really a club,” Eric continued. “I mean, we don’t have officers or dues or anything like that. It’s more like a combination of a social gathering and a support group.”

“I see,” I said, not really sure I did but anxious to learn more.

“It doesn’t really have a formal name although some of the boys call it the Chicken Delight club after that restaurant chain,” he added, giggling. “You know, the one with the jingle that says: Don’t cook tonight, call Chicken Delight.”

“I’ve heard of that chain,” I said, “but that’s a weird name for a club. I don’t get it.”

“Uh, well, that’s because you’ve lived such a sheltered life, you naughty boy,” Eric replied, grinning at me. “Chicken is a term that some older men use to describe the boys they’re looking to have sex with; and the older men are called chicken hawks because they like, uh, you know, preying on boys.”

“As for our club, it’s just a small group of boys who live on Capitol Hill with their daddies; the men who take care of them. There are eight of us at the moment; ten if you count Del and Bobbie. Although Del is only an honorary member and Bobbie is a member emeritus.”

I remember being confused again trying to figure out the difference between a chicken hawk and a daddy. Not wanting to seem like a total doofus, I didn’t raise it with Eric.

“You remember Del, don’t you?” he asked. “I introduced you to him Friday night.”

“I’m sure I’d remember if I ran into him again, but you introduced me to quite a few boys last Friday and keeping their names and faces straight is kind of hard. Why is he only an honorary member?”

“Well, that’s a long story,” Eric replied, grinning. “A very long story indeed; but let’s just say we have membership requirements and Del didn’t meet one of them because of . . . uh . . . a disability I guess you could say; a physical one. But everyone likes Del and he does have a daddy so we made him an honorary member.”

“What about Bobbie?” I said, eager to know more about him. “What did you call him . . . a member em . . . emir . . . .”

“I called him a member emeritus,” Eric replied. “That’s just a fancy term that means he’s technically a former member because he doesn’t live on Capitol Hill like the rest of us anymore. He lives with Charles in New York City most of the time these days.”

“But he and Charles travel a lot. When they’re in Washington, they stay at a mansion Charles owns in Virginia. But we still let Bobbie participate in our meetings whenever he’s in Washington because his daddy provides most of the financing for our little group.”

By now I had heard enough to know I wanted to be a part of this club.

“When do you meet and what do you do exactly?” I asked.

“Generally we meet on Thursday,” Eric said. “We have lunch together and then go back to the home of whichever boy is hosting our club meeting. That rotates from week to week, but all of the boys live on Capitol Hill so it isn’t a problem since we live pretty close together.”

“This week is a little different because we’re having two meetings. We’re having our regular meeting tomorrow instead of on Thursday. That’s because Bobbie has invited us out to his place in Virginia on Thursday for, uh . . . a special meeting.”

“You’re welcome to come to our regular meeting tomorrow if you want. That doesn’t make you a member, but it would be a chance to make a good impression on the boys who don’t know you as well as I do.”

“I see,” I said. “I definitely want to come to the meeting, but what should I know about it? I mean, what’s the point of the club? Do you do things together or what?”

“We do a lot of different things,” Eric replied, “but more so in the spring, summer and fall when the weather is nicer. Sometimes we go paddle boat racing at the Jefferson Memorial, for example. That’s always one of the highlights of spring. In the winter sometimes we go ice skating down on the mall, but some of the boys don’t like cold weather so turnout is usually a bit spotty for that.”

“We do other things too; and of course we always end every meeting by playing our game, our Triple C game,” he continued.

“What’s that?” I asked, curious.

“It’s kind of a secret, but I guess I can tell you. Like I said, the name of the game is Triple C and that stands for Choose, Choice, or Chump; although to be honest about it, a lot of the boys insist on saying it stands for cocks, cunts, and cum.”

“I see,” I said, nodding my head, although I didn’t have a clue what Eric was talking about.

“How the game works is that the host puts eight slips of paper into a bowl and then each of the boys selects a slip of paper in turn,” Eric explained. “We do that alphabetically; one week from A to Z and then the following week from Z to A. That’s so everyone has a fair chance to win; although everyone’s really a winner in some way except for the chump.”

“Whoever’s hosting our meeting each week will write the word Choose on three of the slips of paper and those slips will also be numbered one through three. The host writes Choice on four of the slips and Chump on the remaining slip. Understand?”

“I think so,” I replied.

“Once all of the slips of paper have been taken, the four boys who got a slip with the word Choice on it have to raise their hand and identify themselves. Then the boy with the slip marked Choose 1 gets to decide which of those four boys he wants to be best friends with for the coming week.”

“After that the boys with the slips marked Choose 2 and Choose 3 get to choose their best friend for the coming week; and of course the boy with the slip marked Chump doesn’t have any choice. He has to be best friends with the remaining boy, the one who hasn’t been selected already. Do you understand?”

“Kind of,” I said. “But what’s the point of the game?”

“The game is kind of a way for all of us to become better friends,” Eric replied. “I guess you could call it a bonding experience. Every week you get to spend some one on one time with another boy for the entire week. Maybe the two of you will go to the movies one day or have lunch together another; or go shopping together.”

“Like I said, it’s a way of building camaraderie among us,” he continued; “and then the other thing is it relieves the boredom that comes from not having a job by helping to fill up your day.”

“I see,” I replied. “That sounds good. I wouldn’t mind playing a game like that and making some new friends.”

“It’s a fun game, no doubt about it,” Eric agreed. “And you know what the best part is?”

“What?” I asked.

“A lot of the time the boys decide to have sex with one another throughout the week. When that happens, the boys who pulled the slips marked Choice get to decide what kind of sex they’ll have and who’ll be doing what in bed. That way the boy who chose gets to spend time with someone he likes while the boy he chose gets to choose exactly what kind of fun they’ll have.”

That put a whole new light on the game. The idea of having sex with someone I didn’t know or who might want us to do something I didn’t like made me nervous. I wondered whether it was better to get a slip marked Choose or Choice. I could see how you definitely didn’t want to be the chump since you didn’t get to choose anything at all.

“Uh, really,” I responded, trying not to give away how nervous I was. “But isn’t that . . . uh . . . I mean, isn’t that . . .

“Isn’t that what?” Eric asked.

“Isn’t that kind of like cheating on your daddy?’’

“It depends on how you look at it, I suppose,” Eric replied. “A couple of us have completely open relationships with our daddies; that’s the way it is with me, for example, although I don’t just jump into bed with anyone who comes along.”

“And then some of the boys have daddies who are aware of the game and look the other way as long as it stays within the club. They understand how beneficial the game can be for them and how boring being home alone can be.”

“The rest of the boys just don’t tell their daddies at all. I suppose someone could call that cheating, but none of us think so. Like I said, the game actually helps our daddies.”

“How?” I asked, confused again.

“Well, like I told you, a big part of the club is becoming better friends with the other members. Spending a whole week hanging around with someone is a real bonding experience. It brings us closer together. But the other thing is that each of us tends to be better at something sexually so having sex can be a learning experience as well.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“Take Shane, for example,” Eric replied. “Shane is probably the best kisser in the whole world; at least that’s what most of us think. So if you’re friends with Shane for a week, you’re going to learn a lot about kissing; and because of that, you’ll do a much better job when it comes to kissing your daddy.”

“I see,” I replied. “I guess that makes sense; kind of.”

“It does,” Eric replied, nodding. “And it’s not just Shane, of course. All of the boys are good at something. Some give great head or are terrific at rimming or felching.”

“Head?” I asked. “Rimming or felching?”

Eric rolled his eyes at me.

“It’s amazing the stuff you don’t know,” he said, “but never mind. I’ll tell you later. The point is that all of us have the same job as you; keeping our daddies happy. Learning from each other like we do, it makes the game an educational experience. And the game is fun quite apart from that, of course; lots of fun.”

“So that’s how it works, Jimmy. And it’s actually the main reason the other boys suggested I invite you to our meeting tomorrow. It would help even things out a bit by letting both you and Del play. Right now he can’t because they are only eight of us regular members.”

“Nine if you count Bobbie. But he’s a member emeritus and hardly ever attends. That leaves Del as the odd man out as an honorary member and we feel guilty about that. If you attend and eventually become a member, that would make for ten at our regular meeting.”

“I see,” I said, unsure what to say.

“Although some of the boys think there should be a special drawing just between you and Del to decide which of you would be the Chump this coming week because neither of you are members yet,” he added. “Would you be comfortable if that’s what’s decided?”

“Um, well, I don’t know,” I replied. “I’m not sure I like the idea of being the Chump at all.”

“It’s not so bad,” Eric said. “I mean, the Chump is basically the odd man out for a week. He doesn’t get to choose who he gets to be friends with for the week; and he doesn’t get to decide what he and the boy he’s friends with do in bed either.”

“But every one of us has been the Chump a lot of times, including Bobbie,” Eric replied, trying to reassure me. “It tends to keep us humble; not to get too full of ourselves because some of the boys are cuter or have a wealthier daddy or whatever. Even the cutest boy with the wealthiest daddy like Bobbie has to be the Chump from time to time.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I’d want to have sex with someone other than Jeff; especially someone who might want to do stuff I’m not interested in doing. You know what I mean? Stuff like some of those hankies you pointed out involve.”

“You don’t have to have sex at all,” Eric said, reassuring me. “It isn’t compulsory. No one can be forced into doing something they’re not comfortable with.”

“Of course, depending on the boy you get, it might hurt your chances of getting voted into the club if you didn’t have sex. But most of the guys have been in the same position so they’ll probably understand if you say no to something; especially if you ended up having to chump for Del. But that’s a flip of a coin; Del is as likely to have to chump for you as the other way around.”

“Okay,” I responded, uncertain I wanted to have sex with anyone if they got to decide what we did.

I liked being in charge in bed. The idea of someone else making the decisions made me uncomfortable.

“Why don’t you let me think about that overnight and then we can talk in the morning,” I added.

“Sure,” Eric responded. “By the way, didn’t you say something about wanting a job? I mean, like I said before, you already have a job keeping Jeff happy. But I seem to recall you telling Jeff you wanted a job.”

“I do,” I responded. “I need to make some money.”

“Well, you know, I keep telling you that you need to ask Jeff for an allowance. But if you want a second job as well, I bet Bobbie could get you one at the place where he occasionally works. Before he met Charles, Bobbie was a dancer; and even now, when Charles and Bobbie are in Washington, he still dances.”

“I bet you could be a dancer as well if you want. You’re old enough and good looking enough. We should go see Bobbie after lunch and talk to him about it.”

“Where does he work?” I asked, curious about anything involving Bobbie.

“At a place called Head and Tails. It’s not too far from the Hide and Seek and easily within walking distance of here. Do you want me to take you there?”

By that time we had finished our burgers and fries. I had enjoyed the onion rings most of all.

“Um, well, sure,” I said. “I don’t have any plans for the afternoon. It would be good to make another friend.”

Especially Bobbie, I recall thinking.

I really wanted to get to know Bobbie better.


10 thoughts on “Chapter 12

  1. Just wanted to let you know I’m still here with you following along…story reminds me so much of my first encounters in the gay scene its unreal! Keep up the great writing my friend and thank you for sharing it with us.

    1. Thanks, Captain. I’m committed to finishing up this story. That will take us through the end of the year. After that we’ll have to see, but don’t hold your breath 🙂

  2. Hey Kit,

    I think I need “Kitipedia”. I want to know if there really were this many daddies and their boys in DC. I can’t remember if Bobby played any part in Connected (I need to reread Connected as it is time to revisit old friends). I want to know if any of these bars existed or if just their names were changed.

    One of two things is happening. Either you have created this DC world entirely yourself, or … through personal experience (must be others cause you are too young) you are retelling how it once was. In either case, you are such a good writer that you have created a real world for us, your readers.

    In any case, I spent this chapter telling Eric to shut up before he convinces sweet but not always intelligent Jimmy to say something to hurt Jeff and screw up what isn’t perfect but has potential. Grrrrr. Why must you make me worry about the ones I care for ?

    Besos !

    1. It’s almost like you were reading my mind, Tim, because I was just working on an introduction to next week’s chapter that will answer at least some of your questions. It would answer more if I had more time for that post, but I don’t.

      But the short answer is yes. Most of the places mentioned in the story are fictionalized versions of places that were real in some sense.

      Bobbie (with an i and e, not a y) was not a character in Connected, but many of the places mentioned in this story first appeared in Connected; and I’ll leave you guessing for yourself whether Eric is the same boy who appears in With Apologies Mr. Dickens.

      I like the idea of a Kitipedia, something that cross references the people and places that appear in my various stories. Feel free to take that on as a project … or perhaps make it a class assignment 🙂

      As to whether there were that many daddies and boys back then, I don’t know for sure. But keep an eye out for Eric’s explanation of daddies to Jimmy in this week’s chapter. I’m told that’s a pretty accurate representation of things back then and it’s a key point for understanding the story.

      You’re right to be worried about Jimmy though.

      1. No no no Eric can’t be “Rabbit” from “Apologies”. I refuse to think about what that would mean to the wonderful Eric in this story.

      2. Sometimes we know things for sure, Tim; sometimes not. It would be a remarkable coincidence if the Professor Sam Jeffords who appears in several of my stories at different times and in multiple locations turned out to be different people who just happened to share the same name. But Eric? That’s not a completely uncommon name so who knows?

        Wait until the end of the story and then decide for yourself is the best advice I can offer.

  3. Jimmy is so out of his depth here. I wonder how he will take to the group. At least he has someone clueing him into the gay scene even though he can’t admit that he is gay himself. I just can’t believe he didn’t think people would think that he is gay. Hello your going to all the hangouts for gay people.

    1. I think out of his depth really captures it well, m.b. Desperate to make friends, Jimmy is walking a tightrope between the image he has of himself and what the rest of us can see. How long he’ll be able to do that remains to be seen; and what will become of Jimmy if and when he slips is hard to say. I guess only time will tell.

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