Chapter 6

When the man had turned around at his locker and had begun to dress, it was all Howie could do to keep from reaching out and massaging the wonderfully full, round globes that had been just inches from him. Howie was sure he’d been drooling.

Finally, bingo! Matthew Timmons’ genitalia would win a prize in any gay bar’s wet whities contest. The guy was everything Howie could ever want and more—at least physically.

Howie hadn’t realized it, but he had unconsciously reached down and was stroking his own very hard, very erect cock. As he redirected his memories back to Matthew’s face, he imagined Matthew leaning forward, whispering, “I love you, Howie,” then taking Howie in his arms and kissing him. At that precise moment Howie’s cock erupted and spewed volleys of cum onto his stomach.

Howie thought of the other night at the bar when Howie had questioned Ernie about approaching a stranger without knowing if he was gay or not. Ernie had responded, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”