Chapter 17

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 17

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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.

HOMO!

Part III – March thru May 1975

Chapter 17

I went through a lot of ups and downs in the weeks that followed as I tried to reconcile what I had been taught growing up with how I was living my life in Washington.

I never could.

Trying to figure out who you are and what to believe is never easy I suppose, but knowing how stupid I was made it even harder for me. It would have been easier if Tommy was around to help me figure things out, but he wasn’t.

Eventually I gave up trying to make sense of everything, but I continued doing my best to be more understanding and less judgmental of people. Whatever else I might be, I wasn’t God so I tried to look for the good in people and adhere to the golden rule.

Not that I always succeeded. I wasn’t a saint by any means, but even Jeff seemed to notice the change. He told me I was becoming more mature and how much he liked watching that happen. But that was probably because I had stopped treating him like some kind of cum dumpster by then and more like the friend he was.

The more I thought about things, the more I realized I cared about him. Just by offering me a chance to get out of North Adams he had changed my life and helped me become a better person. I was grateful to him for that.

The point is, time doesn’t stop just because you’re trying to figure stuff out. Life goes on and sometimes you choose just by the way you live and how you treat people.

On the plus side, I was voted in as an honorary member of the club and quickly expanded my circle of friends and acquaintances. By the time May rolled around I was glad I had stayed in Washington. I liked the place.

It was big, exciting and fun; and once spring arrived I discovered it was also beautiful as well. There were tons of gay bars, baths and other establishments where you could have fun and quickly make a lot of new friends. And yet for all the people I met, the three I was closest to remained the same.

There was Eric, of course. He knew everyone in D.C. and played the biggest role in expanding my circle of friends. Because he also knew everything about gay life in Washington, he was the person I felt most comfortable turning to when I didn’t understand something or was confused.

But soon enough I knew everything there was to know about the city’s gay scene and didn’t need much help anymore. Having a bunch of new friends and more comfortable with Washington, Eric and I began spending less time together.

Then there was Bobbie. To my surprise, he was serious about being best friends. As the weeks passed we ended up spending more and more time together. He would often send the limo into town to pick me up and bring me out to Virginia after Jeff left for work.

Once there we would go swimming, play in the game room, or spend time working out on the exercise machines. Some days we would take trips to nearby places like Mount Vernon. Discovering things with Bobbie I had only read about growing up was exciting.

Less exciting, at least initially, was discovering how much Bobbie liked dressing me up. He had more clothes than anyone I ever knew and liked me to model for him. It was weird at times, especially parading around in his underwear.

While he never asked me to dress up as a girl, he would often do so himself to get my opinion on how he looked in different outfits. They always looked terrific to me and often produced an embarrassing reaction I had to conceal from him.

He had this one incredible black vinyl outfit he loved wearing while he was teaching me how to pole dance. It drove me crazy whenever he wore the thing. I wanted to strip him naked and rape him on the spot whenever he did.

And yet for all the opportunities dressing and undressing provided, Bobbie was always the perfect gentleman. That was frustrating and I would often go home and have to whack off alone at the end of the day.

Not that we spent all our time at the mansion. Sometimes Bobbie would come into town to work at Head & Tails and I would visit him there. I became a much better dancer myself thanks to his help, something even Jeff commented on when we visited the bars on the weekends.

There were also times when we would meet during the week and hang out together even if he wasn’t working. Often we would have lunch and then visit the bathhouses or watch naughty movies at one of the many D.C. theaters that showed them.

Doing stuff like that shocked me at first, but I learned a lot in the process and soon enough I found myself incapable of being shocked anymore.

Sometimes we even visited the straight strip clubs that lined 14th Street and watched the ladies perform. Bobbie liked doing that to get new ideas and I was fine with it. But none of the strippers ever looked nearly as good as Bobbie to me.

Still, there were also times when Bobbie was away traveling with Charles on business and that was another source of frustration for me.

I mean, I was happy for Bobbie; he would tell me about the different places they visited and what they had done. Compared to mine, his life sounded a lot more exciting. And yet I couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed because Jeff was also traveling more as well.

When both of them were out of town, I was on my own and there wasn’t always a lot to do, especially on weekdays.

But even the weekends were frustrating at times. If I saw Bobbie at all on the weekends, it was only with Charles at the bars. Charles didn’t like him hanging around the bars by himself, but occasionally the two of them would put in an appearance.

Fortunately, Charles seemed to approve of me and Eric, probably because he realized how much Bobbie liked the two of us. He didn’t consider us “trash” like some of the other boys.

Finally, there was Jeff. Jeff was still at the very center of my life in Washington. We were living together after all and he was providing the sexual outlet I needed. But as the pace of work in Congress picked up, he was leaving earlier in the morning and getting home later at night.

Having made a favorable impression on his boss, Congressman Bresnahan, he became the man’s go-to guy. Together they had developed a plan to systematically visit almost every community in the district in order to expand Bresnahan’s base of support and assure his reelection in 1976.

Bresnahan insisted on returning home every other weekend; and as his confidence in Jeff increased, he began bringing Jeff along to help out because he knew the district so well.

Not having Jeff around on so many weekends left me at loose ends a lot of the time and that was frustrating. I would go to the bars with Eric or some of my other friends, but it wasn’t the same at the end of the evening. Whacking off just didn’t do it for me anymore like it had when I was a kid.

That problem was compounded by still another. Working as hard as he did, Jeff was becoming less interested in sex. Several times a day deteriorated to once a day; and then to once a day on the weekends when he was in Washington and maybe a couple of times during the week.

When we had sex, it was still pretty good; just not as good as when we started. Exhausted from work, Jeff was becoming more passive in bed, more willing to let me do all the work. That had been one of the things that annoyed me the most about my former girlfriends.

I began to wonder whether being tired was all there was to it.

Who knows, Jimmy? Maybe he’s losing interest in you. Maybe he’s already lost interest and is planning to dump you for someone else.

There was no indication of any of this. But the more I thought about it, the more I worried. Just being around the gay scene made it apparent that most gay relationships in Washington were pretty fleeting.

Even some of the boys in the club seemed to change their daddies fairly often. They would say they were tired of the guy, but most of the time it seemed like the guy was tired of them.

Although I wasn’t comfortable doing so, I finally decided to raise the issue with Eric. Catching up with him after a club meeting one day, I pulled him aside.

“I need your opinion about something, Eric.”

“What?” he replied.

“Jeff seems to be tired all the time these days and, uh, not so interested in having sex as much as we used to. Do you think I should be worried about that?”

“It’s hard to say,” Eric responded, “but I’m pretty certain it’s the job, Jimmy, not you. This is the time of year when Congress starts to get busy, but Jeff likes you; at least I’m pretty certain he does from the way he behaves whenever he’s around you. He seems totally smitten with you. Of course, it’s always good to have a backup plan just in case.”

“What do you mean; a backup plan?” I asked.

“When you’re our age, you always want to be prepared, Jimmy,” he said. “You need to ask yourself what you would do if Jeff ever decided to dump you. That’s why it’s good to have more than one older friend just in case there’s something more to it; although I’m sure Bobbie would help if Jeff ever did something like that.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” Eric replied. “He likes you. I mean, he likes all of us in the club. We’re the only real friends he has. But he likes you more than the rest of us.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

I mean, I guess I knew it was true. Bobbie spent more time with me than anyone else. But other than that, he had never given any indication I was special to him; that he really liked me. I wanted to hear that from Eric.

“I mean, I know he’s invited me out to his place fairly often and spends time with me when he’s in town,” I continued. “But, uh, he’s . . . he’s never . . . he’s never . . . .”

“Never suggested the two of you have sex?” Eric responded.

“Yeah,” I replied, nervous about how honest I was being.

“And he never will either,” Eric continued. “It’s not because he doesn’t like you. He does. But he also knows you and Jeff are a couple and he doesn’t want to come between the two of you.”

“That’s actually pretty unusual in Washington, but it’s one of the reasons most of us like Bobbie so much. He’s not always looking out just for himself. Your friendship is important to him. The point is, he’ll never have sex with you unless that’s what you want.”

“I see,” I said.

It isn’t a question of wanting to, Eric. I’m just not certain he will if I ask.

Suddenly I felt guilty.

Even though I had told myself many times we had an open relationship, I had never cheated on Jeff. But now here I was, thinking about having sex with Bobbie.

You want to, Jimmy. Be honest about it. You know you want to.

It was true, but it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world. I still liked Jeff. He was a nice guy and I didn’t want to hurt him. But I needed more than I was getting from him and just thinking about Bobbie all the time was driving me crazy.

****

One weekend early in May while Jeff was back in the district I ran into Bobbie at the Hide and Seek. I was surprised to see him alone.

“Where’s Charles?” I asked.

“He’s meeting with the owner of this place upstairs,” Bobbie responded. “The guy is thinking about opening an even bigger bar in a year or two and he’s looking for investors, including Charles. That’s the only reason we’re here tonight.”

“Whatever the reason, it’s good to see you,” I said. “Jeff’s away again this weekend.”

“He seems to be away a lot these days,” Bobbie commented.

“Yeah; it’s every other weekend pretty much,” I responded. “He’ll be here next weekend, but he’ll be back in the district again Memorial Day weekend. He and his boss will be leaving on Thursday and won’t be back until late Monday evening.”

“Really?” Bobbie said. “Charles is going to be in Boston that weekend as well. He has a series of important business meetings wrapped around the weekend.”

“I suppose you’ll be going with him,” I said, dejected.

“Normally I would, but that’s the weekend they put on the annual drag show at Hidden Treasures, Forbidden Pleasures to raise money to help gay runaways,” Bobbie replied. “We usually attend together and Charles always makes a generous contribution knowing I was a runaway.”

“At the event last spring I asked him whether I could participate in the show this year as a way of getting his friends to pony up more money for the cause. He agreed, but forgot to have his secretary block off the weekend on his schedule; and then she went ahead and scheduled this trip to Boston.”

“Charles was very upset when he discovered the conflict and wanted me to cancel. But I reminded him how important the event is and how hard I had been working on my outfit and skit for the show all year.”

“He couldn’t rearrange his schedule, but agreed I could stay home that weekend and do the show. He even promised to call some of his friends to make sure they attended and bid on me. That’s how the show works. People bid on the different performers to raise money; and Charles is determined to have me raise the most money this year.”

“Knowing how wealthy his friends are, I probably will.”

“You’ll win because you’ll be the best looking,” I said. “Count on it. But what do the bidders get?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” he replied. “The highest bidder gets a date with the performer they bid on.”

“Too bad,” I said. “I’ve never been to Hidden Treasures, Forbidden Pleasures, but I’ll probably attend just so I can bid on you. Don’t count on me winning, though; I’ll have to drop out of the bidding pretty quickly since I don’t have a job. If I did, I’d bid everything I made on you.”

****

I didn’t think anything more about it, but the following Wednesday Bobbie and I had lunch before heading off to Head & Tails together.

“Guess what?” he said. “And here’s a hint; it’s good news.”

“Let me see,” I replied, stroking my chin. “Charles died and left all his money to you and you want me to be your husband?”

“Close, but no cigar,” Bobbie replied, giggling. “But knowing Jeff will be away Memorial Day weekend, I was able to persuade Charles to let you be my escort to the charity event.”

“Really?” I said. “How did you do that? Charles seems quite possessive to me. I’m surprised he’s not having you locked away in a convent that weekend.”

That caused Bobbie to giggle again.

“I’ll have to remember that and think about dressing up as a nun for the show next year,” he replied. “But as for Charles, possessive is probably the wrong word.”

“Protective would be a better choice. But Charles actually likes you and he’s even willing to let you spend the night at our place that evening. We’ll have to sleep in separate bedrooms, of course; and you’ll have to wear a tuxedo to the event. We can get you fitted for one in the next day or two.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Refuse what?” Bobbie asked. “Refuse to be my escort, to spend the night at our place, or to wear a tuxedo?”

“Uh, well, how about if I refuse to sleep in a separate bedroom?” I asked, surprised at just how honest I was being with Bobbie.

“Then Charles would probably have Marcel castrate you,” he responded, causing both of us to burst out laughing.

Though later, when I got home, it made me wonder.

****

As Memorial Day weekend approached I became increasingly nervous. I hadn’t told Jeff about the drag show and felt guilty about that.

You don’t have to tell him everything, Jimmy. It’s just a show; nothing more. He doesn’t tell you everything he does while he’s away.

But it wasn’t as easy as that, of course, because I was also wondering what would happen once Bobbie and I were alone at the mansion. Knowing what I wanted to happen was making me guilty.

Finally Thursday evening arrived. Jeff gave me a hurried kiss before leaving to drive himself and the Congressman to the airport. He said he’d miss me. I wished him the best of luck. After he left I walked up the street and retrieved the tuxedo that was waiting for me at the shop where I had been fitted.

Charles had paid to have the thing custom-made because he wanted whoever accompanied Bobbie to the show to look sharp. And yet in addition to feeling out of place at the show, I remember thinking I was going to look like an idiot dressed up like a penguin.

Trying the thing on, I was surprised as just how good it looked on me. I especially liked how the shape of the lines made me look even thinner than I already was. By now I had learned from Eric you could never be too thin or too young in Washington.

You’ll never look this good or this distinguished again, Jimmy, I recall thinking as I stood there staring at myself in the mirror.

I carried it back to the house and put it away. That evening and the following day passed slowly, but finally it was time to get ready. Once I was dressed, I just stood there waiting. I didn’t want the thing to get wrinkled by sitting down.

Eventually the limo arrived. In addition to the chauffeur, I noticed Marcel sitting in the front compartment and wondered why he was there.

Stepping inside the door being held open for me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Bobbie was already dressed. I had thought he would wait until he got to the place to change, but he hadn’t and seeing him dressed like a girl was a bit disconcerting.

Not as much as the first time though, Jimmy. Be honest; he looks beautiful.

Not as good as he’ll look later tonight with his legs in the air if I get the chance.

Damn it, Jimmy. Stop! Get your mind out of the gutter.

Tonight isn’t about showing Bobbie what a stud you are. It’s about showing him you care; that you’re his friend, his best friend, and you’re proud of him no matter how he dresses or what others might think.

“How do I look?” he asked, nervously.

“Like a million dollars,” I replied, trying to ease his anxiety. “That’s how much I’d bid tonight if I could.”

It was the truth. I wasn’t trying to flatter him. It didn’t matter whether he was dressed as a boy or a girl. I wanted him either way.

“Thanks,” he replied. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“What’s Marcel doing here?” I asked.

“He brought my change of clothes,” Bobbie replied. “The sooner I can get out of this stuff, the better. And I suspect Charles wants him to keep an eye on you as well; to make sure you don’t try to get fresh with me.”

“You’re not going to try to feel my titties, are you?” he added, grinning at me.

“I was thinking about it,” I replied, even though that was the last thing on my mind.

“You better not,” Bobbie said. “They’re pretty heavily padded and I don’t want to risk messing them up before the show.”

“Fine; be like that,” I responded, feigning indignation. “I won’t touch you.”

“We’ll see about that after the show,” Bobbie said, grinning.

That made my ears perk up, but I tried to keep my expectations in check.

He’s just kidding, Jimmy. He probably knows how much you want him and is just jerking your chain.

The rest of the drive to Hidden Treasures, Forbidden Pleasures passed uneventfully; and while I had thought I’d be nervous being Bobbie’s escort, the opposite proved to be the case once we arrived. Seeing pictures of kids who had benefited from the event in previous years at the front door, I realized why he was doing the show and how important it was to him.

Helping kids who were runaways or homeless was a worthy cause, one Bobbie had explained to me at length. Knowing the cause was worthwhile, I wanted the evening to be a success for him.

Walking into the place, I was amazed. It was already packed to the rafters. There was a burst of applause and a lot of wolf whistles from the gathered crowd as we headed backstage to the area where the contestants were gathering.

“If anyone gets fresh, let me know,” I whispered. “I’ll punch him in the nose.”

“Not before I get in a shot,” Bobbie replied, grinning at me again.

From there the night proceeded uneventfully. There were fifteen different performances, each lasting up to ten minutes. Later Bobbie told me the performers had been winnowed down from a much larger number through a series of auditions held throughout the year. Just getting to the finals was considered an honor.

Bobbie’s performance was the best, of course. I never had a doubt about that. He looked better as a girl than any of the others and the skit he had put together, a couple of songs interspersed with a lot of self-deprecating jokes, drew the loudest applause of the evening. He was the star, no doubt about it. I was happy for him.

Once the skits were done, the fifteen performers were stationed at different points around the bar. Crowds gathered in front of each and the bidding began. It was quickly apparent Bobbie had drawn the largest crowd and the most intense bidding.

I bid $100 immediately, but that was quickly blown away by other bids that kept driving the price higher. In the end, the winning bid was astonishing; far higher than any of the other performers had drawn.

Later I learned the winning bidder was a close friend of Charles. It didn’t surprise me, especially when the master of ceremonies announced the staggering sum of money Charles had pledged to the cause from the room where he was staying in Boston. It was larger than any other.

After that Bobbie slipped into an improvised changing room. When he finally emerged he pulled me aside and stuffed something into one of my pockets.

“What’s that?” I asked, as his hand lingered there, causing me to go hard.

“A little token of appreciation for being my escort,” he replied, winking at me and then slowly withdrawing his hand from my pocket.

The way he did it caused me to blush, but fortunately Bobbie had turned his head and was looking elsewhere by then.

We hung around the place for about an hour, but eventually Bobbie tired of the commotion and suggested we leave.

“Congratulations,” I said after we entered the limo. “You were definitely the star of the show.”

“And did you see how much money we raised?” he asked, excitedly. “More than any previous year; a lot more. That’s the important thing.”

Arriving back at the mansion, Bobbie led me to the formal parlor. Whispering something into his ear, Marcel scurried away. Soon enough he returned with two small glasses of red wine and a decanter filled with still more. I had never had wine before, but decided to make a toast.

“To friendship,” I said, lifting my glass.

Looking into my eyes, Bobbie brought his glass together with mine and made his own toast.

“Best friends forever.”

That caused me to sigh. It reminded me how long it had been since I had last seen Tommy, but I was glad to be there with Bobbie that evening.

After that we sat there sipping the wine and going over the events of the evening again. Not long after we arrived, the phone rang in the library. Marcel scurried off, leaving the two of us alone momentarily. But he was back soon enough with word that Charles was on the line from Boston.

This time it was Bobbie’s turn to scurry off, leaving me alone. The two of them talked for fifteen or twenty minutes, but finally Bobbie made his way back to the parlor. By then I had busied myself with more of the wine and my head was beginning to spin just a little.

“Charles was so happy, so excited and proud for me,” Bobbie said; “and yet so disappointed he had missed the whole thing as well. I promised I would do an encore for him personally when he gets back from Boston.”

“You should do one for me as well,” I whispered into his ear so Marcel wouldn’t hear.

“And then a striptease as well,” I added, emboldened by the wine.

”In your dreams, naughty boy,” he replied, whispering into my ear and then nibbling on it momentarily.

“And speaking of dreams, it’s getting late and we should be getting to bed. Your room is in the other wing of the house. It has its own bathroom and shower if you want to get cleaned up.”

“I do,” I said, trying to conceal my disappointment.

What I really wanted to do was to spend more time with Bobbie, a lot more, and without Marcel around.

“Marcel, would you please show Jimmy up to his bedroom,” he said, turning to the butler. “I can find my way up to my room.”

With that both of us stood up and Bobbie brushed his cheek against mine. As he headed off in one direction, Marcel led me away in another. It was only then I realized Bobbie had hardly ever been out of Marcel’s sight all evening.

I bet Charles had something to do with that.

Not that I blame him. I wouldn’t trust anyone around Bobbie if the situation was reversed.

****

Alone in the bedroom I stripped off my pants. That reminded me Bobbie had stuffed something into one of the pockets.

Reaching in, I retrieved what turned out to be the pair of panties he had worn that evening; the same white meshed panties that had caused me to go hard at the fashion show two months earlier.

Looking at them momentarily, I shook my head and tossed them onto the bed. Then I started to giggle.

You know how to drive me crazy, don’t you, Bobbie? You’ve got me pegged. You know how much those panties you wear turn me on.

I stripped off the rest of my clothes and took a long shower. Then I returned to the bedroom, clean and refreshed. Although I had been to the mansion of many occasions, I had never actually slept over.

Like everything else in the place, the bedroom was enormous, as was the bed itself. Climbing onto it, I could tell immediately it was softer than the bed Jeff and I shared. It also had a ton more pillows and a fluffy bedspread that seemed to swallow me up.

Closing my eyes, I tried to fall asleep after what seemed like a very long day. But I found myself tossing and turning and quickly realized something was wrong.

Unlike the bedroom Jeff and I shared, this room was quiet; extraordinarily quiet. Nestled away in the woods, the mansion was far from civilization. You couldn’t even hear a car passing in the distance because the road was too far away.

Climbing out of bed, I walked to a large window, climbed on to its ledge, and looked out. There were no city lights to be seen all around, no city sounds to be heard. There were no crickets chirping in the distance like there would have been back in North Adams.

The darkness was overpowering, the silence a bit frightening. I remember sighing, wondering why I had agreed to spend the night here.

If I was back at the townhouse, I wouldn’t have to think about what might have been.

Pulling back the draperies, I allowed the moonlight to illuminate the room. Then I returned to the bed and started to climb in. As I did so, I noticed the panties I had earlier tossed aside.

Picking them up, I held them up to my nose and inhaled deeply. They smelled perfect; just like Bobbie. Surprising myself, I pulled them on, sending a chill through my body.

Okay; you win, Bobbie. I may not be able to get into you tonight, but I can get into your panties and fall asleep dreaming about you.

Climbing into bed, my hand quickly found what it was searching for and it responded instantaneously. I stroked it gently for a few moments, then thought better of it. It would be embarrassing if one of the maids discovered even a single drop when she changed the sheets.

The staff would talk about it among themselves if she did; perhaps even laugh about it. Word might get back to Charles and Bobbie. What would they think of me if it did?

You don’t have to have sex every night, Jimmy, I reassured myself. Hell, you’re not even having sex with Jeff every night anymore.

That’s precisely the point, I responded. The last time the two of us had sex was almost a week ago. That’s too fucking long. I’m horny as hell and Bobbie’s in this freaking mansion somewhere. A real stud wouldn’t settle for Bobbie’s panties. He’d go looking for him.

But I didn’t go looking for Bobbie and I didn’t whack off. The risk of embarrassing myself was enough of a deterrent to stop me. Closing my eyes, I rolled on to my side and tried to summon sleep still again.

Eventually I drifted off.

8 thoughts on “Chapter 17

  1. Here’s what makes you such a gifted writer Kit ….

    You take Jeff, who we like, and through a quality we also like (hard work and success) you drive a little wedge between him and Jimmy. Then you take Bobby, who we like (love?) and through his devotion to Charles and through Charles’s legitimate steps, keep Bobby and Jimmy apart. Finally you take Jimmy, and his growing attraction to Bobby is seen as a result of his growing acceptance of who he is.

    So, dear wonderful Kit, you have given us Jimmy, Bobby, and Jeff who we all like and we don’t think any less of them for how they feel about each other. This is an incredible literary tightrope to walk and you are doing it flawlessly.

    I can’t wait till Netflix picks this up as a series.

    1. Let me know when Netflix does, Tim, cuz I’m looking forward to the royalty checks 🙂

      The funny thing is, I probably would do better as a screenwriter if I knew anything about screenwriting. I always thought Summer Boys, Summer Dreams would make a great movie; possibly The Opened Door as well. I can see stunning visuals when I think about it. I’d probably have to eliminate the sex though.

      In any event, I doubt there’s any money in gay movies (or stories either) and not being marketable is a crime in America.

      Homo! is probably the least marketable of all, at least Parts I through III. Part IV might work though; or at least it might have twenty-five years ago.

      Sorry for rambling … I’m off.

      1. Talk about being honored, Tim. Thanks!

        The funny thing is I’ve never actually read the story. I probably should, but I try to avoid other gay-themed stories as a way of protecting myself against inadvertent plagiarism. But just from reading the synopsis, I have a sense of how good it is and I’m almost jealous. I’d like to do a story like that some day, but I’d probably botch it.

        It’s unbelievable that it hasn’t been turned into movie yet. And it pretty much destroys any (small) illusions I have about seeing one or more of my stories on the silver screen some day.

        But, yeah, I might have some ideas for an adaptation. Like The Opened Door

        , it would probably start with a scene of someone running in the darkness.

    1. Thanks, Captain. I don’t know for sure, but I think the story is getting stronger now and I hope you’ll continue to enjoy it.

      Have a nice weekend and thanks for all the encouragement and support. I appreciate it.

  2. Kit, thanks for your story and your ability to paint pictures in words. I loved the front runner but I think you are just as good at telling a story and drawing the characters. I so want Jimmy and Bobbie to get it together. I am not certain how you will manage to do that, but I will wait and see what you come up with.

    1. Thanks very much, Graham. Never having read The Front Runner, I can’t really comment on it. The synopsis I read made it sound like a wonderful story, however. At the time I guess it was groundbreaking too.

      As for Jimmy and Bobbie, we’ll see more of them in the next chapter so you won’t have to wait long to see what happens.

      I hope you enjoy how it plays out, but be sure to rest up before reading it. It’s going to be a much longer chapter than usual.

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