GENRE: Bisexual • Erotica • Fiction • Gay • Historical
LENGTH: 41,766 words
Publisher Link: http://www.jms-books.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=29&products_id=584
Amazon: The Facialist
It’s New York City in the 1950’s when Timmy discovers his own sexuality. But he’s aroused by men and women, which confuses him. Then Timmy meets Dickie, who likes to take young men under his wing and teach them the arts of fellatio, and Dickie's current young protégé, Shelly.
But Dickie is abusive, much like the men who have used Timmy for their own sexual release since he was a child. His attraction turns to Shelly, but who wants nothing to do with him.
Timmy is also seduced by an older Polish woman, an acquaintance of his mother’s. Confused by his own desires, Timmy returns to his favorite activity -- cruising the pathways of Tompkins Square Park.
Will Timmy accept his sexuality without fear or shame? Or does he risk losing himself to his own hungry desires?
When next I stood up and redressed, about an hour later, he said, “You can come back anytime you want, I’m always here. Plus you have so much to learn. I can teach you.”
“Like sucking cock or taking up the ass, you can’t be a sissy if you don’t do that.”
“Well, maybe I’m not a sissy, you ever think of that?”
He grinned at me. “Oh, yes, you are,” he said, nodding his head. “Yes, you are…”
I looked at him. “You think so, but why?”
He grinned. “Two men going to bed together, now, what would you call them, sissies?” I winced and got dressed, and tried to change the subject.
“Maybe we can meet sometimes in the park where we met before…?”
“If I’m not here,” he shrugged, cleaning his glasses, “I’m always nearby, in the park or walking around, looking for boys.” And he winked at me.
I looked at him. “What do you mean, looking for boys?”
He smirked. “I found you, didn’t I?”
I grimaced. “Yeah, you did. You get many boys?”
He shrugged. “I’m always looking for boys. I’ll have extra room for one in a week.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked at me. “In one week I’ll have room for another boy. One comes, one goes. That’s the nature of life. You want to try it?”
I stared back at him. Interesting, whatever is going on in this room…But I shook my head.
“I’ll have my money now,” I said, and waited. He smirked at me.
“Oh, yeah, money…” He reached in his pants pockets and jiggled a few coins. “A quarter, is that what you wanted?”
I nodded my head and bit my upper lip. He flipped a quarter between his thumb and forefinger.
“A quarter isn’t much, you know, for what we did.” The coin flipped around his fingers like he teasing someone. “All the other boys that have been here ask for at least two dollars. Now, three, ask for that.” The coin flipped onto his palm and he held it out to me. I looked at it, so feeble and solitary, lying there all alone. But how was I supposed to know what to ask for? A
quarter seemed so right. At least it would buy me a soda, a root beer. I reddened and looked at him, grinning so smugly.
“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, and reached in his pants and retrieved a wallet. He flipped it open, pulled out a dollar, and handed it to me.
I held my arm out to take it. “But you said you give the other boys three dollars…”
He flipped the wallet shut. “Come back next time and maybe you’ll get what you should get, three dollars, but now you get this…” And he held out the dollar.
I crinkled the dollar in my palm and stuck it in my pants pocket.
“Okay,” I said, looking at him. “Next time, I’ll be back.”
He shrugged. “And make sure you do.” He grinned, again putting his arm around me. “Give me a goodbye kiss, okay?”
I closed my eyes and felt his wet lips touch mine. Again that spasm rocked through my body, the one that would make me do anything that he wanted. But he broke from me and led me to the front door. He stood holding the doorknob, his naked penis still stiff and ready.
“By the way,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Timmy,” I answered, making up a name and lowering my head. I looked up. “What’s yours?”
“Dick,” he slyly smirked. “You like that, don’t you?” We looked at each other. “Say it, I like Dick…”
I looked at him and bit my lip. “I like Dick,” I mumbled.
“What? I can’t hear you…”
I frowned but said it again, “I like Dick.”
“It’s really Dickie, but I know that you like dick, too. Say it again.”
“I like Dickie,” I mumbled.
“No, no, dick, say I like dick.”
I quietly said, “I like dick,” and blushed.
“I still can’t hear you…”
“I like dick!” I loudly repeated.
“Like, don’t you love dick, too? C’mon, say it…”
I winced but loudly exclaimed, “I like dick. Like dick spilling out on my face, beating and spitting out scum. I really like dick!”
He dreamily stared at me. “But don’t you love it? Come on, say it…”
I looked at him and said, “I love dick.”
He smiled at me. I smiled at him. “That’s my sweetheart,” he said, pushing his glasses up and putting his hand on my shoulder. “I know you do, Timmy. I know you do. I like you, too.” And he winked and was ready to open the door. “By the way, you have some scum on your face.”
I brushed it off on my arm and shoulders.
“Okay, it’s off,” he said. “But remember, this is out little secret, no one has to know, alright? You can love Dickie in this room but outside it’s a different world,” and he winked, “Next time, baby, okay?” He opened the door.
I nodded and went down the stairs. Outside little raindrops remained and an autumn wind swept through the dark sky. I turned onto Avenue B. A few lights hung in the pathways of Tompkins Square Park and the restroom was closed. I hurried home.