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Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance
Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance
Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance
Ebook138 pages59 minutes

Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance

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Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance: fantasy,? or is this reality life. gay bareback story.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateApr 22, 2015
ISBN9781329078468
Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance

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    Gay Erotica - George Copine

    Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance

    Gay Erotica: This Life, Gay Romance

    George Copine

    ISBN: 978-1-329-07846-8

    Copyright © 2015 by DynnePublisher

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the Email below

    webmaster@celphonerus.com

    CHAPTER 1

    Not for the first time, Benny wondered what idiot had come up with the saying about being stuck with family, but being able to choose one's friends. Not only did it falsely imply that one wasn't stuck with one's friends, but that one had thoughtfully chosen them, rather than haphazardly picked them up along the way. Maybe even -- and this was the worst aspect, in Benny's opinion -- that one would be held accountable for those non-choices; St. Peter would pull out the ledger, run his gnarled old finger down the long list of people Benny had known in his almost five decades, his frown growing, and then point poor Benny downstairs.

    But surely St. Peter couldn't blame Benny for Roger. There were photos of Roger and Benny sharing the same crib and sitting in the same sandbox. If he looked closely enough in the mirror, Benny could still see the scar over his left brow, where Roger had hit him with a toy truck when they were both four. And if only his mother had taken that golden opportunity to tell Roger's mother that their two sons would never be allowed to play together again, Roger might not have been sitting in Benny's living room, trying to convince Benny to be his best man. Something Benny would have been happy to do, if only he hadn't filled the exact same role in Roger's previous two marriages. And not only was Roger not listening to reason, he was actually laying a guilt trip on Benny for trying to refuse the dubious honor.

    I can't write another speech, man. I've run out of ideas, Benny whined, as he also tried to keep an eye on the TV, where the Yankees were playing. Had he known Roger would ambush him with a ridiculous request, he'd have never invited him over to watch the game.

    Just deliver the same one as last time, Roger said. There wasn't a dry eye in the house when you were done. Carrie wasn't there to hear it, so she won't know.

    The one about how the day you met Chrissy, you called to tell me that you'd finally found your soul mate and your one true love? That ought to go over real well.

    It was true that Roger had called Benny and used those exact words; it was also true that, at the time, he had been three sheets to the wind, freshly divorced, and apt, therefore, to overvalue Chrissy's place in his heart and soul. The marriage had lasted five years, about the same length of time as Roger's first marriage to Pam, incidentally also his soul mate and one true love.

    Roger leaned over to grab the bag of Cheez Doodles out of Benny's hands and crunched thoughtfully for a couple of minutes. Well, you'd obviously need to change 'Chrissy' to 'Carrie'.

    They stared at each other wordlessly for a couple of seconds. Roger cracked first, his round face alight with amusement, and Benny rolled his eyes. The problem was that he liked Carrie; she was a smart and attractive woman, with a wide variety of interests and a sharp wit. More importantly, she seemed to have Roger's number. This was the marriage that might actually last, and Benny couldn't help thinking that it would be nice to be connected in a semi-official capacity to the success, and not just the two failures leading up to it.

    Does Carrie know you're asking me?

    Roger nodded, but he didn't meet Benny's eyes. It could have been simply because of the action on the wide screen TV that took up half of Benny's living room wall, but Benny had known Roger way too long.

    Okay, so she knows. Does she also know I was your best man the last two times?

    Yes, she fucking knows. Jesus, Benny! You don't think I consulted her before asking you?

    You don't really want me to answer that, do you? And gimme my Cheez Doodles back.

    You're not supposed to be eating these, Roger said, stuffing more into his own mouth and holding the bag out of Benny's reach. You just got out of the hospital.

    Benny scowled. He hated being reminded that he was convalescing. And from a bleeding ulcer, no less, which he regarded as a personal affront. He was in good shape, ate well, Cheez Doodles and other junk food addiction notwithstanding, didn't smoke, even meditated sometimes. That ulcer had had no business stopping at his door.

    What color is the wedding? he asked resignedly, unable to believe that he was beginning to consider Roger's request. If Roger said something like canary or pastel blue, he was definitely out. The rented green tux he'd been forced to wear at Roger and Pam's wedding had made him look like a tall Italian leprechaun; Phil had given him shit about it for over ten years. Benny rubbed his chest, as if the sharp pain he felt whenever a memory of Phil snuck up on him could somehow be soothed away.

    Black tux for us boys, Roger beamed happily, foreseeing Benny's imminent capitulation.

    Aw, fuck, Benny sighed. What the hell, I'll do it. So long as you've explained the whole situation to Carrie and she's okay with it.

    Yes, Benjamin, I do solemnly swear that I've explained the whole situation to Carrie and she's okay with it, so help me God Roger intoned solemnly, raising his right hand.

    I can bring a guest, right?

    Roger dragged his eyes from the screen. A guest? he asked suspiciously. You mean like a date? Who?

    Jordie will probably be in town around that time.

    Roger's lips thinned. I guess, he said, his reluctance obvious. Benny—

    Stuff it, Roger, okay? I don't want to hear it for the zillionth time. For some unfathomable reason, Roger had hated Jordie at first sight, and thirty years later still didn't much like him, no matter how much Jordie had changed.

    The thing is, Carrie has somebody in mind for you to meet.

    Benny was vigorously shaking his head before Roger had even finished speaking.

    No way. No fucking way. No!

    Come on, what have you got to lose? He's coming to the wedding, and there'll be other people around, so if it starts to look like things aren't working out between you, you won't be stuck with each other.

    Who is he? No, wait, don't tell me. I don't want to know. I don't care.

    Carrie's brother, Roger said, ignoring Benny's request. I've spoken to him on the phone a couple of times. He sounds like a great guy. I'm sure you'll love him.

    Benny gritted his teeth to stop the five-year-old inside him from retorting that he wasn't going to love Carrie's brother, and that Roger couldn't make him. It also wouldn't do any good to remind Roger of all the other times he'd been wrong about whom Benny would love, because Roger would simply blame Benny for being too picky and an asshole, just like he always did. Benny resolved to bring Jordie to the wedding, if he had to drag him there.

    Why can't people just leave me alone?

    Because, Greta, we care about you and we don't want you to die a bitter, twisted and lonely old man.

    Well, if you care about me, just let me move in with Carrie and you when the time comes. All three of us can retire, move down to Palm Beach together, and live happily ever after in one of those assisted living communities.

    Oh, Jesus God! I'm finding you someone, if it's the last thing I do, Roger mumbled, clearly appalled at Benny's suggestion, and nervously stuffing more Cheez Doodles into his mouth. Foul ball! Foul ball, you idiot, what the hell are you running for? he was yelling at the TV a second later, and Benny thankfully let the conversation drop.

    After Roger left, Benny slowly prepared for bed. Even the minimal effort of taking a shower and brushing his teeth left him shaky and exhausted. He braced his hands against the counter, staring at his reflection and hating the grooves that had carved themselves into his forehead almost overnight and the sharpness of his collar bones. Even his skin

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