Geron Kees

Yes. I understand completely about that feeling for a car. Really, it doesn't matter what you drive, so long as it takes you where you want and need to go, and leaves you content when you get there. Cars are personal. They are one of those inanimate objects that we endow with life and personality; they become friends, they share our experiences - our ups, our downs, and our in-betweens. When I look at photo albums of my teen years, I have to smile at how often I see my car in the background. Some place I was, some event I enjoyed, some experience I shared with family or friends. My car took me there, waited patiently while I enjoyed myself, and then took me home again after. I don't feel embarrassed at all to say that my first car was my friend. I thought of it as a living, breathing thing, anywhere, at times, from a cherished pet to a secret and passionate lover; and that my memories of it are as fond as my memories of the places I went in it and the people that shared those times with me. I think you expressed that sentiment wonderfully. We are both saying the same thing in different words; that that first car meant something, that it was special, and that it certainly is something to be remembered.

I'm sorry you feel this way, Bubby. But the bottom line is, this is a story. In it, as the author, I may explore things I myself do not strictly believe in - things that I am fully aware others may not agree with. In my own life, I believe as you. I also have one mate, and always have. I don't believe in cheating, and I don't run around. But these are teenagers we are talking about. If you honestly believe that every teen on the planet believes in as strict a set of guidelines as you do, you are not being realistic. And, I think you are confusing sex and love as the same thing. Sorry, it's not. You can love someone to death and have no desire to have sex with them. And, you can play with someone else, as a friend, and it doesn't make them the love of your life. Sex WITH love is something else. It's special. It's reserved for the ONE. In writing this story, I talked to my own son and some of his friends, male and female. They are all twenty or so now, but their teens years are still so close to them that you can still see the shadow of the experience in their smiles. All of them found the story quite plausible, in terms of things they were aware of during their teens. I didn't simply pull the scenario out of thin air; I researched it a little, and explored it. The people reading this story are fully aware of gay stereotypes. Who better would know? This is not a public site in that it draws a uniform crowd. It is a site for LGBT people to explore and discover themselves. In ALL of their aspects. I had Brian and Jeff explore this area of sex and friendship for a reason. In their next story, that may be more clear to readers. I would be pleased if you were around to see that; but if you choose to bow out now, I will understand. If I only wrote to please everyone, all the time, I would never get another word on the page. But I am a strong believer in happy endings. They do happen, even in this world.

Thank you. Always nice to hear something from you, William. I have been almost too busy of late to get over here and post, let alone talk to people. As I am kind of snowed in at the moment, I expect the weekend to have more time. I'll be around to see you again in puzzleland. As always, your kind words mean much.

Thank you for another nice boost to my ego. I now must widen doorways all around the house and consider some other form of transportation that provides more headroom! I am sorry about the loss of sleep. But if you came away from looking back at your life feeling better about it, then both of us are better off for it. Always good to see you here again, buddy.

Chapter Twelve -- The Bee sat on the line, reared up on her haunches, ready to leap. Next to her sat a 1969 Dodge Coronet R/T, powered by a 440 six-pack. It was stock, but that was no reason to discount the car. Brian felt he had a win coming, but nothing was a sure thing in this world. The Bee had yet to break anything during a run, but it had happened to plenty of others. Luck didn't last forever. A week had passed since the night at the haunted house; a week since secrets had been shared,

I do hope you intend to continue with this story. You're just starting out, and it's way too early to let it end.

Thank you very much. "I enjoyed it a lot" is what anyone that shares things with others would most like to hear. Beats the heck out of "don't quit your day job!" Thanks for the review.

Hmm. You are the third author to come by today. I can see I am going to have to update my reading list. It's especially interesting to hear the views of others who write. Not that readers are not important - they are most important. But...it's like having anything you create examined by another that creates things like it. A nod feels pretty good. Thanks for that.

Interesting name you go by. Are you calling for assistance, celebrating the Spring festival of that month, are you by chance from Colorado, or do you just like the rock band from Nebraska? Or, none of the above? Thank you very much for taking the time to come by. I am surprised at the new faces here today.

Writing about teen gay life is something I enjoy as well. My own years as a teen were a blast. They were also less difficult than a lot of gay guys experienced - I was lucky there. Now that I'm older, I just want to share the idea that being gay is not always painful. Sometimes - most of the time, in fact - it is a joy. Like everything else in life, it's a complex state to exist in, and subject to some pretty potent external forces that seek to either denigrate it or reform it. Not happening with me. Not back then, and not now. I've written a couple of adult gay stories, that have not made their way here just yet. I kinda don't want to ruin my image!

Hi, Ivor! Yes, I am old enough to be writing these stories. That's MY story, and I'm sticking to it! As always, enjoyed having you come by.

Hi. New blood, huh? We haven't met. Pleased, I'm sure! I do know your name, though. Have to come by and see you - return the visit. Thanks for the kind words.

The sound of his father's voice, leaping up the stairwell from the first floor, made Kevin Perry cringe. He was scarcely awake, even though the morning was getting on towards noon now, and the welcome darkness of the room being encroached upon by an insistent glow that the shades on the windows could not hold at bay. He rolled over in his bed, groaned, and sat up. If he didn't answer soon, his father would be at the door, banging away in his usual, intolerant custom. Kevin threw off the lig

Kevin was seventeen, and unhappy. He was in love with his best friend, but unable to share those emotions with him. And, he lived on pins and needles with his dad, who seemed not to care about anything that went on in his son's life. Kevin had found some relief in writing - tales of other worlds and other life. But now his best friend was going to prod him into something new; something that would change Kevin's existence altogether.

Man, I gotta hire you as my PR guy! I have actually been down underground in places like I described in this chapter, which is why you can feel it, I guess. You are right that it is both eerie and exciting at the same time. There is also just that tiny nagging fear at having all that earth over you and around you. I guess it speaks to the human fear of being buried. As teens I and my friends looked for cool places to explore. Even something as simple as a large old machine shed (called that, but actually a very large factory building), vacant since the 1920's, still carries inside its many twisting corridors and enormous rooms a vague sense of people having been there. A sense of purpose, now gone. That sense of prior occupation, contrasted to the obvious loneliness and emptiness of an abandoned place, adds an air to the exploration that simply has to be felt to be understood. I haven't done anything like that in a lot of years. But such was the impact of those explorations on my memories of those times, it is easy to revisit them in print. Thanks again for a nice review, buddy!

You make a valid point. Brian and Jeff use lube, and Brian did wonder about Annie being on 'the pill'. All of those truths were there in the teen years - mine, and, I assume, yours, too. Yes, condoms, birth control, lube, being 'clean' for penetration - all of it. I am assuming in this story that the reader is aware of these things on his or her own. I am not in the business of instructing - it's not my place to be doing that. I am telling a story, and having a good time. Giving the reader the benefit of knowing about these things, and assuming that the characters are being safe in what they do, is pretty common among writers of this sort of fiction. I read quite a bit of it where condoms, lube, and birth control are never mentioned. I just assume they are being used. For that matter, an awful lot of people I knew in 1984 smoked cigarettes. I left that out on purpose, too, because I want in no way to paint that practice as cool for anyone reading my stories. Life is important to me. But you do make a very valid point, and I thank you for that. But you have proved my assumption that readers are already aware of all of the things you mentioned without me having to explain it in the story.

I always love a good mystery. Or even a mild one. As teens we were off on treasure hunts more than once. We explored a fairly deep cave, several haunted houses, mountaintops, junk yards - even an abandoned lighthouse once. Never saw Scooby or the Mystery Machine, but had a lot of fun. Hell, that's what the teen years are for - fun. Not that you cannot have fun at any stage of life, but the teen years are kind of reserved for having fun without much worrying about the cost of it.

Oh, squirm away, Gary. That's perfectly cool. I really am not an exhibitionist myself. I went through a sort of relaxed phase as a teen, and my group of friends was very close. But we didn't make a habit of such things, either. It's just for the story. I also think lovemaking should be private, just between the two people involved. While as a teen I might have been relaxed, as an adult I would close the door, thank you very much. And lock it, and put a very big dresser in front of it. Maybe even turn off the lights...

Hey, thanks. We are nearly to the end of this second installment in the story. The third one will be along as time permits. Hope to see you then, too.

Chapter Eleven -- Annie took Brian's free hand as she stepped into the tunnel with him, and Jeff took the other side by the flashlight. The tunnel was as wide as the shelving section - at least seven feet - and the roof was every bit of that height above them. Old light fixtures were attached to the overhead beams about every twenty feet, and a metal conduit snaked along beside them, disappearing both to the fore of them and to the rear. The railroad ties holding the earth at bay looked solid,

Wow. Very intense chapter. I have to admit I was worried when the guys went after Reznick as wolves. That may be the best way to track a hunter, but I'm not sure that the best way to deal with one. Getting close enough to rip his throat out is extremely dangerous, as this scene just proved. Were it not for Warren and a rifle, the story would be over here, or at least tragically unhappy with loss. It is one thing to be a shifter and depend on the innate gifts of the wolf form for tracking, and another to eschew the benefits of human technology in fighting the war itself. Wolves - even those endowed with the intelligence of men - are no match for bullets. On the other hand, this chapter would not have been exciting as hell like it was if the buys had simply parked in the bushes and shot Reznick dead from a hundred yards. So forget all I just said and keep going with what you're doing. That's why you're writing this one and I'm not! And...I may not be a shifter, but I don't have to be to know what you are thinking just now!

Woof! I'd howl, too, but...nah. Wouldn't be in good taste. Um...gee, it's warm in here. Uh, great chapter. The plans to go after Reznick are on the move, and I'm glad that Denver stepped in here and reined in Tobyn's mom. Her natural concern for her son's welfare (and that of Kellar) almost caused her to make an error in judgment. The 'less is more' method is definitely the way to go here. Man. Why is it so hot in here?? Um...where was I? Oh, uh, Reznick is probably only the first step. He will either go down as planned, or he will escape, and things will escalate. I have to wonder what kind of a group he may be a part of, and how much information he may have passed along. If he was in contact with any other hunters, he would be stupid not to share the fact that he may have found a new pack. This is building nicely...um...and I can't wait...um...to see where it is going. Man, I have to go an open a window or something? How did it get so hot in here?

'Why did Denny blush at the words ‘playing cards?’' I know, I know! The circle of friends here is large and warm. Jay's parents are so welcoming and understanding, too. I don't think even once in my teen life did two guys arrive at my house, and one introduce the other to my folks by saying"...and this is my boyfriend..." My folks would also have been gracious about it, if much more surprised than Jay's. Adults have much more experienced senses than do teens. That Jay's folks weren't that surprised about Cal isn't hard to believe. As an adult, I have been places and seen teens of both sexes together, and somehow just felt that their relationship had more to it than 'just friends'. Something in the way they look at each other, or touch. But usually, it's in the way they look at each other. Kind of heard to miss that. I'll be catching you soon. Then what? Sniff.

I don't know if it's memory playing games, or just that my teens years really were unmarked by a lot of conflict. My group of friends was very close. We did everything together. The first thing we did on waking was call each other, and plan out our day. Especially during the summer break from school, my life revolved around them, and was spent mostly with them. Your friends support you in ways that your family cannot. Unless you happen to have a sibling that is close to you in age, only your friends share the mindset of your particular spot in life. It is not uncommon - at least it was not for me - to love your friends, and be so very comfortable with them that you can let your guards down with them and just be you. The real you. Finding those kinds of friends is pretty special. And, as in my case, sometimes they remain lifelong friends. You can't do better in life than to be surrounded by people who care about you, just as much as you care about them.

Grammer-like mistakes? Which? Who? How? My grammer's getting old, but she still can get up with the best of them! Nice to meet you, and glad for the company. And the kind words.