The Pickup

By Ron Dawes

Desperately lonely young, gay male looking for love in all the wrong places tries to seduce older man

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ron Dawes
• Release date: Dec 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311020987

Ron Dawes

Writing these stories provides me an outlet to express my innermost fantasies. I love hearing from readers who have been moved by my stories. Feel free to drop me a note anytime. Many of my stories are based on my fantasies. Some of the stories are based on the fantasies of others that have contacted me. But all of them are fantasies. We have no control over our fantasies, and many of them will always be just that; fantasies, not real. I don't necessarily condone the behavior of my characters; some of them are a bit lecherous, I'm afraid. Some are rowdy. And some might just be a little nasty. But it takes all kinds. I believe that men, deep down, have a strong need to worship and adore their lover. I believe that women, deep down, have a strong need to be worshiped and adored by their lover. Most of my stories reflect those beliefs.

Book preview

The Pickup

By Ron Dawes

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Text Copyright 2015 Ron Dawes

All characters are fictional, and, where involved in adult situations, are over the age of 18.

What’ll it be?

Martini. Gin. Dry.

The bar wasn’t particularly busy, at least not yet. The non-descript music was too loud. He hadn’t been in a bar in years, but he could see that nothing had changed since he was a young man frequenting such places. The obligatory pack of straight women who thought it hip to hang at a gay bar. The table of lesbians, looking smug with their lovers, knowing they wouldn’t be lonely tonight. And the young men; all those men, hovering like so many predators, trying to hide the loneliness they felt as they hoped to find someone to assuage it for a night.

Frank twirled the stem, then took a sip. The first drink of the night, and it was good. That first drink always tasted the best. The bartender put two olives on a plastic spear on a napkin near him.

Thanks, Frank said.

He bit into an olive and ate half of it, then took another sip of his drink.

Hello, a voice said, startling him.

He had been lost in his own thoughts.

My name’s Zach, the man said, flashing a brilliant smile at him.

He had a full beard. Frank detested facial hair. Tony had fine, delicate features and very little body hair. His facial hair was sparse and he shaved daily. Just one of the many things he loved about Tony.

What’s your name? the man said, when Frank didn’t answer.

No offense, Frank said, coolly. But I’m really not in the mood to talk.

None taken, the boy said, flashing that smile again. Good night.

The boy looked no more than twenty five or six. He wistfully thought back to when he was that age. Frank had graduated high school at exactly the moment in history when, for the first time ever, being a gay male was a death sentence. Though the world was a homophobic place, you could forget that in LA in 1981. The scene was alive, it was happening, it was everywhere. Then, just when Frank began to understand and accept his sexual identity, it was over. There wasn’t a person he knew that didn’t lose a friend to AIDS, or more likely, many friends.

Monogamy seemed the only way to deal with it, but monogamy requires a lover you can stand, and that can put up with your shit. Frank had spent many nights in just such a bar as this, trying to hide the fear of being lonely, as these men were. That’s when he learned that pot disguised the loneliness. Over the years, he found that alcohol did a better job.

He suddenly remembered what had started the fight with Tony. Another plea from Tony to stop drinking so much had gotten the usual, sarcastic, shitty response from Frank. Tony was used to Frank’s bitchiness, but Frank went too far. They both knew that Tony would be back; he always came back, no matter how shitty Frank treated him. Tony adored Frank, would always adore Frank. And Frank? Well, he adored being adored, and he enjoyed sex without worrying about condoms or disease. And if he was to live a life of monogamy, at least Tony was attractive. And there was the