They were called the Swinging Sixties, but just how swinging were they for a college student with minimal gay life experience? Particularly one, whose sexual liaisons have all been in parks, public toilets, and the front seats of cars.
A young college student, whose sexual knowledge has been learned from crude sexual drawings on the walls of public lavatories and from quick fumbles with married men in their cars, is suddenly confronted with the truth about his sexuality—that it can be a lifestyle, not just a part-time occupation. A few words mumbled in a moment of passion open up to him a whole world he knew nothing about. But is he being steered in the right direction?
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-60054-508-5
lyd Category: His and His Kisses
Length: 19 pdf Pages / 3411 words
Formats Available: pdf, prc, lit, zipped html, lrf, epub, rb
Cover Price: 2.50
There I was face down in the back seat of the car, inhaling the odor of red leatherette as my ass was inhaling pounding cock. Did I have no pride? Leatherette, for fuck’s sake. Not even real leather. And red? Whose idea of good automobile design was this? And the guy fucking me was overweight and in his forties! Ancient! He was fucking me so aggressively that he was threatening to give my face a good dose of leatherette burn.
No, I had no pride when it came to cock. I was new to the game. And like all converts to a new religion, I was embracing it with open arms, and open ass, and open mouth. It was 1964. I was in my freshman year at college, as ignorant of the world’s myriad dark sexual alleyways as any man whose concentration on the freeways of life left him little or no time to take the beckoning detours that would add color and meaning to his journey. But courtesy of the school library dictionary, I did know that I was never going to marry. That was my definition of ‘homosexual’, at any rate. A well-meaning, unmarried family friend had suggested, in whispers that reeked of intrigue, “Look the word up.”
Barry Lowe lives in Sydney, Australia, with his long-term partner, Walter, and their irascible baby dinosaur, Tofu, who travels the world with them not so much as a child substitute but a wisecracking mascot. If you’re confused check his website at www.barrylowe.net.
Barry’s been writing since primary school where he entertained his fellow pupils with stories of a teenage detective called The Count. Since then his career has encompassed journalism, entertainment interviews and reviews, editing gay magazines and newspapers, the script for the independent film ‘Violet’s Visit,’ short stories, film star biographies and, particularly, plays which have been produced in Australia, the U.S., the U.K. and Italy.
He has been described as ‘the man with the filthiest mind in Australia’, but even his staunchest critics have had to concede he’s a survivor, and he’s still here doing what he does best—spinning yarns.