Glen

byBOSTONFICTIONWRITER©

I'm gay. I'm gay and I do not care who knows I am gay but I am gay with happiness, gay with excitement, and gay with the pleasure of him. I miss him when he is not with me. I miss him when I cannot have him but I have to work and he is never there with me when I am driving to and from work but I wish he was with me. I am so lonely without him. He blanks my thoughts when he is with me. He satisfies me and fills my need for him.

I did not know that I was gay. How could I? I always thought I was a well adjusted heterosexual man who loved women but I am hopelessly in love with a 21-year-old Scotsman named, Glen.

I do not care if I am the only one who loves him or if there are others who love him, too. That does not make a difference to me so long as he is there when I need him. He does not have to be faithful to me. Matter of fact it is more exciting when I can share the pleasure of him with another. I do not care if he has been used and abused by others who were in desperation for him to be by their sides, so long as I can count on him to be by my side when it is my time to be with him.

Yet, for the brief time he is with me, he is mine, all mine, and I love him. I really, really love him. Bought and paid for, during our limited time together, he belongs to me and I to him. Whenever we are together, we are as one. He fills me up and I swallow all of him, always.

I am old enough to be his father, yet I am in love with a 21-year-old. How can that be? I always preferred women for my companionship, so this is very new for me. Now, sometimes and I am finding out more and more times, I prefer his company to that of the company of women, especially if the women who I obviously care for has hurt me and rebuffed me. Then, I will go down to my favorite bar and seek out the company and close personal companionship of my young friend. Then, later, I will bring him home with me and back to my room and we will share some private moments together. I love him.

It was a decade ago that I was first introduced to him. Until then, I did not know such pleasure existed. Now, I look for his familiar shape, will not settle for another, and have done without until I find him, again. He is my favorite, my joy, my best friend, my preferred companion, my best buddy, and my friend, especially at night, yes, especially at night, when I am alone, lonely, depressed, or sad or if I just want and need to relax.

I want him always. I want all of him now. I love the taste of him. I want to savor him, drink him, and guzzle him. I love the smell of him and the feel of him on my lips and in my mouth. He is so fine, so smooth, and he never fails to satisfy me.

Glen, I love you and I am not ashamed to say it. I do not care who knows that I love you, but I do. I'm gay. I'm giddy with being gay.

The first time I smelled and tasted him, I was intoxicated with his delight. His bouquet drove me wild. It is a masculine fragrance of cherries and oak with a touch of sweet sherry. The color of him is like that of dark amber. He is my image of a man, a man's man, a manly man, and a macho man.

The first time I held him, held him up to the light and looked at him, he drove me wild with anticipation. The first time he touched my lips, I was wild with excitement. He seduces me with his taste and intoxicates me with his liquid. When I take him past my lips and swirl him around in my mouth, he fills me with wet warm pleasure that I have never experience with anyone or anything before.

I take a pinch of him every evening and savor his pleasure late at night until I cannot stand it any more and must imbibe in another dram of him.

Glen Livet, my favorite 21-year-old, single malt scotch, I love you.

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