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He was probably selfish in the sack. Probably selfish and greedy and...unsophisticated. And hung like a horse.

Josh Lanyon

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Josh Lanyon
Horse
Probably
Like
Unsophisticated
Sack
Greedy
Hung
Selfish

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Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.
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The only thing worse than opera is someone who hums along with opera.
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You know that thing about Death Be Not Proud? Well, Fear Be Not Proud either. And Fear Be Not Elegant. What Fear be is stumbling, bumbling flight, crashing through brush, slip-sliding on pine needles, sloshing through puddles that are always deeper than you expect.
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When you live with a potentially life-threatening condition you get used to the thought of dying. You accept it, you push on. The thing that scared me was the picture of dying slowly and painfully, the loss of independence and identity to illness.
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To find them all in one package...well, perhaps better not to dwell on his package in my fragile state.
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I'm not insane. This is very simple, very straightforward. Provided he doesn't kill me, its foolproof.
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Like true philosophers I've come to believe that religion is an illusion of childhood, outgrown after proper education.
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I liked you the first time I saw you. You were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and you looked up when I opened the door and smiled right at me. It felt like you had been waiting for me, like you were welcoming me home.
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I noticed you right away. She gave me an approving look. I like quiet, polite men. And men who wear Hugo Boss. I was hoping you weren't gay. Or that you were only half-gay. Like Paul. Uh...sorry, I said. It's pretty much full-time now. The pay's not great, but the perks...
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Rachel delivered it like an official pronouncement. Like she was one of the fairies gifting Sleeping Beauty's christening: Beauty. Intelligence. Heterosexual.
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He looked okay. No, to be honest. He looked a lot better than okay. He looked...fine. Fine, as in get the Chiffons over here to sing a chorus.
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I'm a thirty-something gay man with a dodgy heart. I sell books for a living. Who wants to read about that?
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