JLynch
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His eyes were glued to the white gloves of the elevator operator. Not something you see everyday, he thought. He first held the door for him. As Day Benjamin was about to enter, he said in a sing song voice, "Your chariot awaits." With a smirk, Day entered. "Floor, sir?" "The Trianon Suite." He should have said, please. But, he'd been educated. Be polite to servants but never say "please" and "thank you." "Yes sir. Second floor," the elevator operator responded as he use
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Chapter 29 Rich Uncle Pennybags
JLynch commented on JLynch's story chapter in Chapter 29 Rich Uncle Pennybags
It is consistent with his past behavior. Look how he’s allowed Bell to manipulate him. Carey has allowed himself to be pushed around in different ways, too. Notice how the circles are starting to narrow? -
Rich Uncle Pennybags. AKA Mr. Monopoly. Round, a shock of pure white hair on the sides, completely bald on top. Exquisitely coifed bushy white mustache. English style. Dyed black eyebrows. His attire in public always the same. Dark suit, pearl grey vest, and an elegant bow tie. Winston Leonard Day got out of the hired car and trundled into the lobby of the DeSoto Hotel. One of Savannah’s most elegant hotels, certainly amongst its most expensive. Late September, still so hot that the heat ro
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Try twenty-five times. I’m amazed at the small mistakes and revisions I’ve found to correct or make to chapters I thought were perfected.
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Have you found an editor? It’s hard to find someone to edit your work in this genre. I’ve found that reading it over and over, like twenty-five or thirty times helps a lot, both in phraseology and finding errors.
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Aren’t you two (you and the good DrS) just the smarties?
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THAT is something to consider! Stay tuned…
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Sort of an impossible position for Apollo…as was mentioned previously. Enslavement is still part of our World culture, even though it’s somewhat hidden below the surface.
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“Be downstairs in ten.” Apollo was clueless as to what was going on. Nothing new there. Amir had returned a couple of nights ago. Apollo shared his bed the first night, submitting to a vigorous fucking and getting his cock sucked so hard it was painful. Something had possessed Amir but he wasn’t exactly sharing. Afterwards, Amir laid on his side looking at Apollo. “Ya Allah!” Amir stared at Apollo’s backside as he rested on his stomach. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t hav
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I love that Green Lantern reference!
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That was the definitive one night stand.
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September. Wielding the sharp Ginsu knife, Kaito trimmed the leaves and the roots off of the negi and threw it into a basket. The familiar aroma of sweet and bitter wafted from the basket of Japanese vegetables, often mistaken for leeks. A pleasantly crisp fall morning in Astoria, Queens. He didn’t exactly relish this job at the Orange Blossom. But, he didn’t exactly have a choice. It was his family’s grocery store, after all. He much preferred the catering side of their business. The
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This is an interesting point. In spite of the fact that admitted homosexuality is a death sentence in most of the Arab/Muslim world, these kinds of activities occur. Slavery, particularly enslavement of White Americans is possibly a pleasant fantasy (or reality) for Arab royals.
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Those are reasonable questions…let’s see!
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A couple of months later. “It never rains in Southern California.” The music went around and around in his head. A large umbrella overhead, the gigantic amoeba shaped swimming pool in front of him. The sound of the waves crashing on Paradise Cove Beach just below, shrieking seagulls overhead. Adjacent to the pool, a sprawling Malibu mansion. A long sigh. For Apollo, it should have been a sigh of contentment. But, he wasn’t content. This wasn’t where he wanted to be. But, he shrugg
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LOL! Not sure, but I did, just to make sure.
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They “share” things is obviously open to interpretation, especially for someone like Bell. He is a majordomo manipulator and someone who is extraordinarily fun to write.
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Poor both of them. But, think about it. How many times in our lives have we passed on fulfilling a possible relationship…and then reliving that moment over and over?
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Two years earlier. Bored. Apollo slumped naked in a chair, lazily tying a swizzle stick into knots. The dressing room, if you could call it that, was a small narrow room running along the backside of Slammer. He’d been on the road for nearly a year since leaving Carey and the East coast behind. First, in Portland, where he’d been dispatched with three other guys to dance at a club long on customers and short on nude dancers. They’d slowly wound their way down the coast to California.
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Good call on that one. If I’d had an editor or even a beta reader, that might have been caught. I was probably trying to be too clever. Seventeen years old would have worked just fine.
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The research involved in finding the right sailboat and understanding how it was made and how it worked took longer than it took to write the chapter.
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The identity of the new guy will be revealed at the beginning of the next chapter. Coming soon to a gayauthors.org web site near you.
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Carey’s eyes jerked open. He was in the same bed he’d gotten into the previous night. Early morning golden light streamed through the open bedroom door. Standing up, he saw that Randy’s place on the other side of the bed was vacant. He stumbled to the bathroom to pee. At first, the urine sputtered as it came out as if the tip of his penis was encrusted. Did he have a wet dream last night? Or….? No. That wasn’t possible. He would have been awakened. He tiptoed back into the bedroom, th
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Well written! A nice start.
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I guess, if you’re talking about Dr. Oxydahl, you’re probably right. I don’t have room in this narrative to dwell too far into his persona. Suffice it to say he’s slightly deranged.
