Screams of a Drowning Man

The waves wash over me, sucking me down into the depths of Neptune. I gasp, but my lungs finds, fills only with the waters that surround me.

Against the riptide, I struggle but it is too strong, from the safety of the sandy beach I am pulled, I am helpless against its strength, helpless against its power. I am nothing more than the sea weed floating beside me, like it, I've been set adrift by the storm.

I am drowning. . . drowning in a sea of men, with the frenzy of sharks, their masculinity surrounds me. They circle me! So many, yet so few, so close yet so far away.

Will the waves of the storm forever keep the reach of my life guard an arm's length away?

I Am Doomed

I am doomed I tell you, doomed. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, go directly to jail, doomed.


The day started off just like any other day, another sunny day, no rain in sight. Rain? I haven't seen the rain or felt its wetness upon my face for so long, I've almost forgotten what those wonderful drops from heaven are. What I wouldn't give to see the dark gray storm clouds rolling in the Southern sky, what I wouldn't give to see them burst open and spill upon this dry parched earth their tears. Sorry, forgive me. I forgot what I was doing.

Let's see, I remember now, no rain in sight, I was sitting on the deck soaking in the freshness of a new day, checking my emails. I scanned the few I had received and yes, there it was, another one from the special friend. I opened it first, the eyes read the words, his words. . . waiting on a response was the last words my eyes saw, the last words that entered and floated around inside my mind. The heart fluttered, the hands may have trembled a bit as the fingers typed back a response. Where and when? The wonders of the Internet, almost instantly the email alert came back.

Today. . . this afternoon . . .2 pm sound OK with you? I will be waiting for you. No problem, I replied, I will meet you there. After all, I thought to myself, nothing is going to happen, just a chance to finally meet this mystery man I had been talking to for some weeks now. A chance to meet, a chance to talk, and if nothing else, a chance to make a new friend.

We met, we talked, he suggested we go to a more secluded place, a more private place, a place he knew, a place I'm sure he had been before. I admit, I saw the red flag waving in the breeze but I was still intrigued, the logical reasoning of my sane mind, replaced with the lust filled expanding appendage being held captive within my well worn jeans. I know, go ahead. Call me a slut! Call me what you will! It doesn't matter, I am doomed anyway I tell you, doomed.

Things happened, things were done, the taste of his lips still linger, the touch of his roaming hands, I remember . . . but I must not think of these things, I must forget.

"Why did you not tell me this before?" I heard myself asking.

Oh, My God, what have I done? I am doomed, doomed to spend eternity, my soul lost to the bowels of Hell!

Wait . . . maybe all is not lost! Maybe, just maybe, could it be possible? Could this man be also my redeemer!

Bless me Father, for I have sinned!

All I Need

Words are not necessary, lying in your arms is all I need.

Listening to you breathe, feeling your breathe against my skin is all I need.

The warmth of your body replaces the chill I feel inside, all my troubles, my problems melt away.

The exploring of your hands over my body is wonderful, but you know me so well. Today . . . now . . . they just hold me. You know your presence is enough, it is all I need.

Today, you are not my lover, today you are my friend.

It is enough, it is all I need. . .

Is The Well Dry?

When did it creep inside me. . . could I not have felt it slowly worming its way in . . . how did I not know? It was clever, I give it that, laying dormant, patiently waiting for its time to pounce, all the while knowing it would gain more and more strength the longer it waited, gathering more strength the longer "I" waited. It bided its time, lying low, remaining in the shadows the way a sniper waits just for the right moment to pull the trigger. His finger resting on the trigger, concentrating, sure of his skill, sure of his target, he (it) gently squeezes the trigger, a shot rings out, its piercing sound echoing in the stillness of the air. A thump, an instant of pain felt, a wetness of red flows . . .I'm bleeding.

I wonder. . .

Has my time come and gone, is my well dry, barren of its life sustaining water. When did I allow, this thief of dreams . . . this thief of hope to creep inside and rob me of my tomorrows. I refuse to believe there is nothing, but the bucket comes back empty. I thirst. . .

Testing The Waters, Again

Could it be . . . is it possible? Do I dare believe this could be the one? God knows, the last time I thought about stepping out of the "closet" what a disaster that turned out to be. I'm not sure if I can trust myself to be objective enough to see between the (his) lines, and God knows, if anyone should be able to do that, it should be me. Maybe, I'm concentrating more on the pic he sent than the words I'm reading.

This is part of his latest email, read it, give me some feedback, please.

Like you, I've always been able to keep my feelings about guys in check. I've fantasized about a lot of things, but was prepared to never act on any of my desires. I knew as a young guy that I was interested in other guys, but knew I wanted a traditional family life (wife and kids). We've had a computer and Internet access for years but I've never really been tempted to go exploring until the last few months or so. Just admitting I had these feelings scared me. Guess I felt being almost 40 I owed it to myself to experience something with a guy beyond a drunken jo session in college. Anyway, I like your scenario with just being close to another guy. Sounds great to me, and not silly at all. I think that's what I'm looking for more than just sex. A guy who I can talk to about these feelings that can understand it all and not judge me. I also want to experience sexual closeness with a guy, but guess I'm more the type that likes to "make love" rather than just screw.