Entering Autumn

By Wayne Mansfield

As Clayton stares mournfully into the full-length mirror, he sees a 48-year-old stranger reflected back, an aging man whose paunch and saggy skin make him hard to recognize as the toned, athletic man he once was. In the youth-obsessed gay world, the older, more unattractive, and more overweight you are, the more difficult it is to find love and companionship. The prospect of having to endure his twilight years alone terrifies Clayton.

Then two events occur, both of which impact on his life.

The first is the arrival of a new neighbor. Dean is a hot young man in his early thirties -- more than fifteen years Clayton’s junior. That doesn’t stop Clayton from fantasizing about something intimate, and even romantic, happening between them. But in his haste to make his fantasies real, he commits a terrible faux pas.

The second, and infinitely more devastating, event is the bombshell dropped by his oldest and best friend, Emmett. Neither he nor Emmett has any way of knowing the end result. But even in their wildest imaginations, they couldn’t come close to guessing the eventual, and wholly surprising, outcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Nov 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781611526578

Wayne Mansfield

Wayne Mansfield is a Western Australian writer. He has been writing for nine years and has been published in Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Additionally, he wrote a monthly erotic story for the German publications Macho and Dreamboys for two years. His novellas and stories usually have a horror, futuristic, or fantasy theme, although he does write contemporary stories such as The Hiding Place, which received Honorable Mention in the 2013 Rainbow Awards.

Book preview

Entering Autumn

By Wayne Mansfield

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2014 Wayne Mansfield

ISBN 9781611526578

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Entering Autumn

By Wayne Mansfield

Chapter 1

It was the second day of a new year. Christmas had been and gone for another twelve months and with it the related yuletide stresses. The New Year’s Eve hangover had been vanquished, leaving in its place a sense of melancholy, as it often did. But this year the feelings of sadness and loss seemed altogether different to Clayton. They ran deeper, as though they had bored into his very soul.

Stepping in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, he observed his naked form with a peculiar detachment. Despite having seen it many times in the past, he’d usually been thinking of other things, always in a hurry to get to work or to meet a friend. The images were easily dismissed, not given more than a fleeting thought. But now he was alone with this stranger, this interloper, who’d taken over his once slender, athletic body, and there was nothing to distract him from the image reflected back.

There was a general lack of tone and a noticeable droop to once firm pectoral muscles. In truth they were now nothing more than pectoral skin. Where there’d been a flat, muscular stomach there was now a paunch, and to his dismay there were sizeable saddlebags sitting atop each hip. But when had this crime been perpetrated? Surely it was a recent assault. Even with a busy lifestyle, he’d have noticed such a wanton display of vandalism. He sighed, determined to continue the torture, and raised his hands to more closely examine their features—the soft, loose skin, the fine wrinkles, and the liver spot on the back of his left hand. Immediately his melancholy transformed into a deep depression.

He turned around and looked back over his shoulder to view this middle-aged man from an angle rarely seen and felt his stomach lurch as he beheld buttocks that appeared as though someone had let the air out of them. They resembled nothing more appealing than two mounds of dough left out too long at room temperature. And those saddlebags didn’t look any more attractive from the back, either.

He turned to face the mirror, staring into the cold, unfeeling glass with an almost defiant expression, daring it to reveal more. It seemed only too pleased to accommodate. To his horror there was actual hair sprouting from his ears and from each nostril, and one maverick eyebrow hair, growing out across his brow like Jack’s beanstalk. He instantly plucked it out. There was also the dusting of grey at his temples he’d naturally noticed many times before, but he’d known of men who’d gone grey in their twenties. Grey hair, in itself, was nothing to be alarmed by. It was when it came with the whole Getting Old package that it became infinitely less desirable.

Clayton stared for a long while, mesmerised by the body of this forty-eight year old stranger in front of him. He realised he was shaking his head, but couldn’t determine if it was in disbelief or in denial. The reflected image was at such odds with the way he pictured himself in his mind’s eye, but there could no longer be any denying the fact he was showing his age. In two more years he’d be fifty. Fifty! More than half his life was behind him, nothing more than memories. He suddenly felt weepy.

An unguarded moment and a mirror were a dangerous combination.

Finally, he could no longer bear to look at himself. He turned and walked across to the built-in wardrobe. He slid the door open, revealing rows of neatly ironed, colour-graded shirts and jackets. He pulled his white towelling bathrobe from the hanger and put it on, tying the belt securely around what remained of his waist. As he did so he saw an image of his silver-haired father doing the same thing. He snorted and shook his head. In days gone by, whenever he was alone, he used to wander the house naked. Remembering that, he removed the bathrobe and flung it to the floor. Not everything had to change so dramatically.

He was rescued from further maudlin thoughts by the sound of his mobile phone ringing.

How are you, love?

The ebullient voice on the other end belonged to Jan, his fifty-year old friend whose lust for life was incomparable. Never one to refuse an invitation or