Surprise Party

By Harold C. Jones

Robby, or Robin as he decides to call himself, has had three girlfriends in his lifetime—and a crush on one guy, years before. He’s just desperate enough to try anything, once. But in the singles game, finding a man is ten times harder than finding a woman. To his surprise, he has done just that. Even more to his surprise, when he shows up at Ed’s for the first time, there are a couple of other cute guys sitting there. Ed’s a good listener, and has taken it upon himself to indulge Robin’s fantasy. What’s even more surprising is that Ed has a daughter, who must be one of the most beautiful women in the world.

A short story of gay erotica with a twist.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harold C. Jones
• Release date: Sep 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781927957844

Harold C. Jones

Harold C. Jones does professional landscape design and is an avid sports fan. He started writing as a hobby. He began taking it seriously when he realized he had something to say. His work has helped him to come to terms with himself, or perhaps explore himself would be more accurate. Harold believes that homo-erotica is valid as literature, and that it can be written in such a way that real stories of real people takes precedence over mere prurience. It can still be a hot read.

Book preview

Surprise Party

Harold C. Jones

Copyright 2014 Harold C. Jones and Long Cool One Books

Design: J. Thornton

ISBN 978-1-927957-84-4

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The author’s moral rights to the proceeds of this work have been asserted.

Table of Contents

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

About Harold C. Jones

Surprise Party

Harold C. Jones

Scene One

"Hi, Robin?’

My heart began to beat strongly in my chest.

It was the signal.

I’m sorry, I think you might have the wrong number.

Sorry.

That’s okay.

There was a click and it was done. It was the first time he’d actually called here. Up until now, it had all been chat and emails. I had been expecting it but it was still a shock.

Mom looked up from her knitting, the TV blasting away. She gave me an inquiring look.

Who was that, Robby?

I don’t know. Wrong number.

Casually, oh, so casually, I put the landline phone down, knowing Ed wouldn’t call back although someone more innocuous might.

Mom didn’t know how to use any kind of cell-phone.

That seemed safe enough, and our crappy old home phone had no provision for caller ID, no last-number that called, nothing like that to identify him. My iPhone was safely sitting there on the coffee table for all the world to see. She wouldn’t suspect a thing.

It was time for a long, hot shower.

***

Mom didn’t know about the little burner phone I had picked up for twenty bucks. It was hidden in the furnace room downstairs, where I was pretty sure she couldn’t hear me. One thing for sure, she never went in there. Too damp, too dank, too many spider webs. It was my own little space, cool and dark and quiet on a bright summer day. I was so paranoid, I had set up a separate account, different from my regular email address. Sure enough, Ed had called this number a couple of times before trying our regular phone—which I needed for work. It’s a good thing I had set the burner on silent. Unlike my mother, people at work knew how to work iPhones. There were times when it was just sitting there, at home or at work, or sitting there on the console of my car, and I wasn’t always alone in the vehicle either.

Did I mention that I was paranoid? It was a bit disturbing that he had gone to my regular phone number so quickly…I thought I had explained all of this to Ed. That kind of missed communication is too easy at the best of times, and for me all of this felt very much like life and death.

I had to have some kind of a cut-out if the guy turned out to be a real weirdo. It was pay as you go. I’d put fifty bucks into the pre-paid card and signed up for a singles site, finally admitting to myself that I could be gay if the right guy came along, and not being terribly sanguine about my prospects.