Q is for Quarantine

By Saxon Boulevard

Saxon Boulevard bring back his talent with detailed descriptions and palpable tension, in a story in which the quarantine is delightfully documented from the point of a view of a young man who has a doomed crush on his (seemingly straight) roommate.

As the isolation progresses, so does the desire between them, in a story written as an alphabet for everything that marked this strange period in our lives. Q is for Quarantine is romantic, sweet and incredibly sexy; a treat for all lovers of emotion and sex.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Berlinable GmbH
• Release date: Jun 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9783956951190

Book preview

Q IS FOR QUARANTINE

Saxon Boulevard

Artcover: Chris Phillips

Copyright: BERLINABLE UG

Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.

Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.

When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.

Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.

Open your mind and free your deepest desires.

All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.

A is for Adam's Apple. The first thing I notice about Kevin, the thing that keeps my eyes focused and my mind distracted, is his thick neck. It's like the trunk of a tree. His terracotta skin is carpeted in stubble and when he speaks, or laughs, or smiles, his Adam's apple bobs up and down like a bulging sex organ. 

His throat is like a gateway to other temptations. His chin, lips and tongue to the north, and the hollow of his clavicle to the south. All else is concealed, wrapped and bound and left to the imagination, which is the biggest distraction of all.

B is for Baked. The hot oven fills 137 Patterson Street with the sweet smell of banana bread on the day I move in. Ali is baking.

I stack my belongings on hardwood floors beside a large ornamental fireplace. Kevin cradles a box in his right arm and flicks the switch to a singular light globe hanging from a black cord in the centre of the room. Cracked concrete walls are illuminated alongside unfurling cornices and the ceiling rose becomes a mandala in the empty room; a third eye watching us from above. The timber-framed window is open and sheer curtains dance with every breath of air. My new bedroom.

Afterward, we sit at the kitchen table and drink black coffee. Ali spreads butter across warm banana bread and we eat. An unfolded newspaper lies by the coffee pot, its main headline reads, Inside the hunt for a vaccine.

C is for Cat. Harold is old and beautiful and was left behind by the last tenants. He doesn't have a favourite housemate. He loves us all. Our laps are indiscriminately perched upon at breakfast, whilst we study and after dinner.

Kevin, with the broad chest and bulging throat and big hands and hairy knuckles is surprisingly tender with Harold. He becomes quieter, more still, when Harold is around. Within that silence they communicate with one another. Entire conversations transpire through touch and glimpse.

This morning, on my way to a lecture, I pause to look into Kevin's bedroom and find him sprawled on his unmade bed. Harold purrs beside him, having his head massaged. 

D is for Dick. I have now lost count how many times I've seen Kevin without his clothes on. The first time took me by surprise as he walked through the kitchen still wet from his shower.

Sorry. Forgot my towel!

Looking up from the cutting board with wide eyes I stop preparing my packed lunch and feel my jaw slacken as I glimpse my housemates floppy uncircumcised penis. Kevin, unselfconscious and