Chapter 4

As semen leaks out of my dick and decorates my white briefs and his right palm, my mind drifts to a single night, eleven years before on Shotner Field. Corey has a two-man tent set up, a flashlight between us to share, two pillows, sleeping bags, a magazine called Wild Guys, and we undress each other. We laugh, drink a bottle of rum that we steal from his Aunt Margot’s wine cellar, and flip through the magazine and grow hard together. Boy nipples become firm and perspire. And before we know what transpires between us, we kiss without any experience whatsoever and begin to have sex.

Our youthful voices wind through my skull:

Gage, I brought some lube tonight. I want to try something with you.

Is it going to hurt?

It might sting, but you’ll get off on it.

I trust you, Corey.

I promise not to hurt you.

Then let’s do it, whatever you have in mind.

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