ISO: Beta Iso: Beta & Editor - Romance - Short Story - One Time/long Term -

[thecalimack]

Looking for a beta and/or editor for a summer anthology piece, which is due on 26 May 2016.
 
It covers a gay man who makes a game out of dating straight men or convincing them to one-night stands, but one of them ends up being more open to a homosexual relationship and pursues him. They are, coincidentally, working for the same office in the same building. The new guy pursues the player.
 
So yes, I need help writing this and would appreciate suggestions on how to go about it and judge what I have right now. Like many artists, I have a good idea and don't know how to press it further. Also, I want to bring out my characters' personalities more.
 
For editing, I feel working with a Google docs file would be as much a possibility as passing an attachment back and forth would. The former might be more ideal. Comments are more ideal but in-line edits are welcome.

 

Snippet:

 

People often called me malicious. Some would say I was despicable, an abuser of trust. I would be inclined to agree with them if I didn’t enjoy it so much.

I had a personal game for myself, a challenge to push myself beyond most interactions. In average bars and clubs, I would often watch men from afar, flirting with girls and dames they fancied. Some were successful, some weren’t. It didn’t matter to me who they were. If they appealed to me, I’d walk over to them. I’d calculate topics of approach despite my regular interests. I did my research on the latest trends. I’d calculate every move, every possible branch of conversation. I would try to get them to be a little more open, a little more enthusiastic. These were pent-up men, eager to release whatever frustrations they had on a willing partner. That was what I was.

I was there for them. To please them, to comfort them, to seduce them, to urge them to lose every inhibition. To let them know that I could take it, could take everything they had to give and more.

How did this game start? It was simple really. I was played, by someone who was just eager to add more notches to his list, enjoying the feeling of dominating faggots eager enough for their body. When I became a notch for him, I was just left hung to dry. Just bitten into and left to rot. But I didn’t rot. No, I pitied men like him, just eager for numbers. I, for one, was eager to please. Eager to take my pleasure and to give them theirs.

The difference I had from regular players of the game was that I make sure they know that I wasn’t exclusive to anyone. I doubt I could ever be. Most of my marks stayed in touch, and we’d arrange for little sessions, quiet dates, and maybe restless nights. It was all good fun. No strings attached. Just the purest of pleasures. No cash involved, no extreme favors. It always started and ended with the bed. Dates would be casual, friendly. I had no qualms with that.

People always came and went, though. I suppose you could say I was lonely, but there was always a wealth of men to choose from, even if you aged a bit. Some were open-minded enough for dates and quick tumbles under the sheets. And I kept myself in top form just to make myself a prime choice. I wasn’t built as wonderfully as some of the other guys. I tried to build up my arms and my chest. And my glutes, for good measure. I was one of those perpetually stuck in the ‘in-the-making’ phase, not the finest but not the least enjoyable, either. I couldn’t even count as a ‘twunk’; too little muscle mass. My enthusiasm had always been my strong suit.

And yet…

 

And yet someone kept seeing me.