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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Gap Year - 5. Chapter 5

January 16, 2004

Oxford Street

Sydney, Australia

 

Will

The cab pulled up to the club and I paused to pay the driver and tip him well, even though he hadn’t been all that friendly after I told him where I wanted to go. Guess homophobia was a thing here in Australia too. Chris had been right about this place, because there was a line of guys waiting to get in. I chuckled to myself when I noticed that Chris had hurried here only to get in line, and he was standing about four guys back from the front.

I strolled up to him and gave him a hug, which annoyed him, but I needed the other people in line to think we were a couple, which would explain why I cut in front of them. “Finally made it,” I said.

“Place is chock-a-block tonight, mate,” he said casually. I assumed that meant it was crowded.

“No shit,” I agreed.

“You got here just in time to walk in with me and avoid the line,” he said grumpily.

“I’ll make it up to you by paying your cover,” I said cheerfully. I was so stoked to be at an Australian club that there was no way I was going to let this guy kill my buzz.

“That might do it,” he said. We got to the front of the line and I showed the bouncer my fake ID card.

“Where’s it say you’re at least eighteen?” he asked, confused. I thought it was funny the way he pronounced ‘eighteen’, making it sound more like ‘Oy-teen.’

“Right here,” I said, pointing to the birthdate on the license. The fact that I spoke with an American accent and that my ID was so foreign to him was reason enough for him to let me in. I paid our cover and walked through the doors and was immediately hit with the loud music. It only took my mind and ears a couple of minutes to adapt to that.

Chris took over and led me to a table with two guys he seemed to know. They checked me out pretty intensely, but neither one of them was that attractive, at least not to me. They seemed like tools.

The dance floor was in the center of the club, with its floor sunken about a foot from the main floor, which wrapped around it. It was actually a pretty cool set up, because it was possible to not only check out the people who were dancing, but you could see the guys on the other side too. I was scanning that opposite area when I spotted a really handsome guy. He almost looked Hispanic, but his skin was a shade darker than that, and his nose was wider at the end like you’d expect from a black dude or a Hawaiian. I got frustrated a little bit at that mental reference because it reminded me of Kai, and I was still pissed at him, but I quickly moved my mind back to ogling the hot guy across the bar. This dude was really fit and muscular, almost like a football player, which made me think of Zach. I resolved to stop referencing other guys when I was looking at him. I was using my peripheral vision to check him out without getting busted, but this guy was too gorgeous not to stare at.

One of Chris’s friends came up next to me and followed my gaze. “That’s Connie. Built like a brick shit house. Worth a root if you’re into Abos.” I didn’t understand half of what this guy just said, but maybe that’s because it was loud in the club.

“What’s an Abo?” I asked.

He looked at me like I was an idiot. “An Aboriginal,” he said with a sneer. “You know, a native.”

His racist tone annoyed the fuck out of me, but I wanted more info on this guy, so I gritted my teeth and ignored it. “What’s his deal?”

“Deal?” he asked. We were clearly having communication issues.

“Yeah, it means what’s his story. What do you know about him?”

“Got it, mate,” he said. “He’s a professional rugby player but no one knows he’s gay except those of us who see him out and about. Rumor has it he only hooks up with a bloke once, then he’s done.” Great. Another closet case. I shrugged internally, since I had a lot of practice with those.

“Interesting,” I said. “Thanks.”

“No worries, mate,” he said, and walked away from me. I had been standing kind of off to the side, so I moved out to a more central position and stared at this guy. His eyes were scanning the room, heading in my direction, until he saw me and they locked onto me. I smiled and raised an eyebrow, to which he grinned slightly and nodded. I casually started walking toward him, moving around the dance floor, while keeping my eyes focused on his the entire time.

I got up to him and smiled in a cocky way. “Wanna dance?”

“With you, mate?” he asked, with an arrogance that was fake. He had a really intense Australian accent and his voice was deep and silky.

“With me,” I said. “Unless you can’t dance?”

“I can dance, I just don’t know if I want to dance with you,” he said, bantering with me.

“I don’t think you can,” I said, taunting him. He was wearing a jacket almost like mine. He took it off and draped it across the chair near him. I mimicked his move and draped my jacket over his. With his jacket off, his tight black T-shirt accentuated his ripped body.

He led me out onto the dance floor and I got a good look at the other side of him. He was wearing black pants that literally seemed to frame his ass. Damn.

I had gotten to the point that I was a really good dancer, partly due to the dancing lessons I’d taken with Marie. If I was good, this guy was even better. I thought about all the amazing things he was probably able to do with his body, and found myself sporting an erection, one that was pretty obvious in my tight pants. He looked down at my groin, then up at my face and smirked at me, making me blush so red I could be a firetruck. We danced and danced, having a total blast. As the night went on, the dance floor got more crowded, and that pushed us together. He took advantage of that to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me in, molding our bodies against each other. We started dancing slower and slower, even though the music was still upbeat. I could feel his hard cock against mine, and his strong muscles pressing against my body. His eyes focused on mine and he moved his face toward me slowly, until his lips met mine. We kissed, one of the more spectacular kisses I’d had, until we were basically standing in the middle of the dance floor making out. Some guy bumped into us hard, pissing him off. “Rack off, mate!” he shouted.

“Want to get out of here?” I asked him as seductively as I could.

“Where are we going?” he asked, even as he led me over to the chair where our jackets were still draped over the back.

“I’ve got a room not far from here, at the Four Seasons,” I said.

“The night is still young,” he said, referring to the action at the bar.

“I wasn’t planning to go to sleep,” I said.

“Let’s go,” he said. He led us out of the club, which was good, because with his massive physique, guys were either intimidated or impressed by him, and he parted the crowds like Moses parting the Red Sea.

We emerged into the active nightlife of Oxford Street, where there was still a line of people waiting to get in. “I can hail a cab,” I said.

“Why don’t we walk,” he suggested.

“Good idea,” I replied. We started strolling back toward Hyde Park, the third time I’d been to that park in one day. “What’s your name?”

He laughed. “Pretty funny that I spent an hour and a bit dancing with you and I don’t know your name. I’m Conway Case. My friends call me Connie, or Case.”

“Will Schluter,” I said.

He stopped and made me shake his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Will,” he said formally.

I bowed and kissed his hand, as if I were at a formal ball. “The pleasure is all mine.” He laughed at that, and we started walking again.

“So should I call you Connie or Case?” I asked.

“Either one works,” he said with a shrug. “My real mates call me Connie.”

“Then I’ll call you Connie,” I said with a smile, and saw him grin back at me.

“Where are you from, I mean in the states?” he asked.

“California,” I answered. “Near San Francisco.”

“I hear that’s an amazing city,” he said wistfully.

“It is. It’s actually a lot like Sydney.”

“I’m not from here,” he said. “I’m from Bluff.” He realized I had no idea where that was. “It’s about 900 miles north of here, but if you drive, it takes a long time.”

“Why’s it take so long to get there?” I asked.

“Because you have to take a couple of ferries, and it’s bush country,” he said. I realized I knew nothing about the basic topography of Australia.

“Do you like it there better?” I asked.

He laughed. “Hardly. There are only about 400 people living in Bluff. I grew up mostly in Yeppoon, where I went to boarding school. That’s on the coast.”

“The coast is my next stop,” I told him. “I’m psyched to check out the waves here.”

“Ah, so you’re a surfer,” he said. “Most Australian kids who live within fifty miles of the water know how to surf.”

“Do you?” I asked.

“I do,” he said. “I love it, when I have time for it.”

“I grew up in Malibu, and surfing is a major hobby for my dad, so I guess that’s where I picked it up,” I explained.

“What’s your family like?” he asked.

I chuckled. “Unusual.” He looked at me oddly so I explained. “My father and grandfather are both gay, so they have partners. My mother is dead.” I paused, because for some reason that choked me up. He put his arm around me in a very caring gesture. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s tough to lose someone you love,” he said sympathetically.

I nodded. “I have three brothers.”

“I’ve got four,” he said, shaking his head. We were almost to the hotel when he spotted the golden arches of McDonald’s. “Maccas! Let’s get some tucker.”

“Okay, although I’m not sure what the fuck you just said,” I replied. He laughed again, a deep melodic laugh.

“I meant we should get some food at McDonald’s,” he said. I just shook my head, because some of the shit Australians said was incomprehensible. We went in and he ordered a lot of food, but then again, so did I. We sat there, munching on our burgers, focused on eating.

“So you play rugby?” I asked.

“For the Roosters,” he said, and looked around a bit nervously.

“Do they know you’re gay?” I asked. That really made him nervous. I stared at him until he looked back at me. “I won’t out you. You’re safe with me.”

“Thanks,” he said with a bit of relief. “I’m out to my coaches, but I’m not out to my team.”

“Why not? You think they would give you shit about it?” I asked.

He shrugged and swallowed a bite of food. “I don’t think so, but I don’t want to get sledged. Not sure I can handle that without losing my shit.”

I blinked at him. “And once again, I have no idea what you just said.”

He laughed at me again. “You done?”

“I am,” I said. We threw away our containers and stacked the trays on top of the garbage cans, then walked outside and headed toward the hotel.

“Sledging is when the other team gives you crap about things to try and distract you. If they know that I’m gay, they’ll start calling me a faggot or a poofter or a cocksucker. I don’t think I can handle that without letting it fuck up my game.”

“Well now it makes sense,” I said, smiling at him. We walked into the hotel and to the elevators, then I hit the button for the top floor. The elevator shot up quickly, making my stomach churn a bit. It stopped at my floor and I led him down to my room and watched him react much like Chris had when he walked in.

“Never been in this hotel,” he said. “Nice view.”

“It is,” I said. I led him into the bedroom and showed him the view out that window, only unlike Chris, he took that opportunity to pull me into a hug, and then his lips were on mine again, and they took me to a whole other planet.

“You are really good at that,” I said breathlessly, as we pulled apart.

“So are you,” he said. Then he started kissing me again. When we stopped again, we were so crazed that we all but ripped our clothes off. I stood there nude, admiring his naked body. His dark skin seemed like smooth milk chocolate that was poured over his muscles, while his dick stood out proudly at what must be 7-8 inches, projecting itself from a thick bush of black hair. I dropped to my knees in front of him and took him in my mouth, relishing the sound of his moans. We’d both been dancing and sweating, so I’d expected his body odor to be a bit nasty, but instead it had a tangy aroma that was incredibly erotic. “Top or bottom?” he asked me, in between moans.

I stopped working his dick and looked up at him. “I can go either way.”

“So can I,” he said with a smile. He all but lifted me up and pushed me in a loving way on the bed, then he was on top of me. His hard cock rubbed against mine as we frotted, with his lips on mine again, and my legs wrapped around his torso. I broke off our kiss and reached over to my nightstand and grabbed a Magnum and a bottle of lube and handed it to him. He raised an eyebrow, put the condom on my dick, lubed us both up, and slowly sat down on my lap, absorbing my cock in a very deliberate manner since I hadn’t prepped him at all. I played with his dick to help him stay focused enough to take my massive size, letting him take his time to adapt to my big intruder. It would have been a challenge to stay hard through this if he weren’t so incredibly sexy; everything about him, from the way his muscles so visibly contorted with his movements to the way his facial expressions changed, just fueled my libido. Once he was comfortable with me, he turned into a power bottom, taking me like a pro. He wasn’t as good of a bottom as Zach, but he was damn close. When I came, I felt like my whole body was exploding through my dick, and when he shot his load, he damn near covered me with fluid. This boy was a volume shooter.

“Dude, that was amazing,” I said as I panted, trying to recover my breath.

“Right on that, mate,” he said. He collapsed next to me while I got up and went to the bathroom to grab a towel. I walked back into the room wiping off my torso to find him out of bed and gathering up his clothes.

I walked up to him and took his shirt from his hands and laid it on the chair. “Stay,” I said, more of an order.

He looked conflicted, and this whole thing was starting to remind me of my earlier sexual experiences with Tony. Once Tony had blown his load and sated his hormones, he’d tried to run out of the bed and away from me as fast as he could. I’d cured him of that habit, and I’d cure Connie of it too. I bored my eyes into his, a steely glare, and he finally caved. “Alright.”

We took a shower together, which gave us time to recharge. We paused mid shower, just long enough for me to go grab another condom and lube, and this time he fucked me. We finished fucking, finished our shower, and then went back to the bed, where I lay on my side with him spooned up behind me.

 

January 17, 2004

Four Seasons Hotel

Sydney, Australia

 

Will

I woke up before him, probably because my sleep schedule was all fucked up from the time change. We were in the same position we’d been in before, with his body pressed against my back, only this morning I felt his hard cock poking against my ass. That made me giggle. I separated myself from him, went into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth, and came back out to find him lying on his back with his hard cock tenting the covers. I pulled down the covers and put a condom on him, going carefully to make sure I didn’t wake him up. Then I put lube on his cock and my ass and knelt over him, lining him up. I was surprised how easy it was for me to take him, and even more surprised that I was able to do it without waking him up.

I slowly began to gyrate up and down on him, and smiled as he slowly started to wake up. Then suddenly his eyes shot open and he looked alarmed, but that only lasted for a couple of seconds. “Good morning,” I said, as I started to move more deliberately.

“Right on that, mate,” he said. He rolled me off of him and onto my back, then he reentered me and started to fuck me. He was strong and almost animalistic when he was having sex, but he wasn’t rough. When we were done he collapsed on top of me, smearing my cum between us. “You’re shivering.”

“I am,” I said, and kissed him. “You’re that good.”

He did a sexy pushup off of me and stopped to stare down at the cum all over his chest, making me laugh. We got up and took a shower, then he went back over and picked up his clothes and wrinkled his nose. “A bit rank,” he said.

“I like the way you smell,” I said to him. He got dressed while I started planning out what I wanted to wear today. “Let’s order breakfast.”

“I need to go,” he said.

“I’m sorry. Do you work today?”

“No, I’m on holiday until early February,” he said, “but I’ve got a few errands to run.”

“I know you’re hungry,” I said, and handed him the menu. “Order.”

He grimaced. “Fine,” he said. I called room service and ordered a bunch of food, then finished getting ready. I found him in the main room flipping through his phone, checking for messages. I walked over to the windows and looked out at the harbor, marveling at how beautiful this view was. Service was pretty prompt at this hotel, so it didn’t take long for the room service dude to come in with all of our food.

He’d just finished setting it all out and handed me the bill when his eyes zeroed in on Connie. “You’re a Rooster, aren’t you mate?”

Connie got up, walked over to him and shook his hand. “Conway Case.” He seemed calm and pleasant, but I could feel how tense he was.

“It’s terrific to meet you,” he said, all starry-eyed. “Will you sign my schedule card?”

“Sure, mate,” Connie said. The guy pulled out a card from his wallet, and it had the Rooster’s schedule printed on it. Connie signed it for him and handed it back, and the guy blew on the ink a few times before he put it back in his wallet.

“And you’ll want this,” I said. I handed him the little portfolio with the bill in it. I’d tipped the guy well, since he was one of Connie’s fans, but I desperately needed to get rid of him. He thanked me and I hustled him out the door, then sat at the table with Connie to eat.

“Good tucker,” he said.

“You okay?” I asked. I read him pretty well, and that reminded me of Zach again.

“Just a bit risky to be caught in a hotel room with a guy I fucked and run into a fucking fan,” he said, frustrated.

“He didn’t know we just fucked,” I said. “If he’d gone in the bedroom, the smell would have given it away, but not out here.”

He chuckled a bit. “I guess you’re right.”

“I have a solution to that, in case he says something,” I said, being devious.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Well, if you showed me around the town today, then it will just look like we’re friends and you came down here to pick me up and I got breakfast for us,” I said.

“I can’t do that,” he said.

“Do you have errands all day?” I asked. “I mean, I can do something else in the meantime.”

He sighed and put down his fork. “Look mate, I have a policy. If I hook up with a bloke, it’s a one-time thing. I never go back for seconds. So it was really nice, fucking awesome in fact, but I can’t break my rule.”

“Why?” I asked and saw his brows furrow in annoyance. “Look, I’ve been with a lot of closeted dudes, so I know the drill. Tell me why you made the rule.”

“Because if I don’t see a bloke more than once, I solve two problems. People won’t see me with him and wonder if I’m a poofter, and I won’t get attached to him to the point where I make bad decisions,” he said, and took a bite.

“I’m different,” I said.

“You’re no different at all,” he said in a scornful tone that pissed me off.

“I am, and here’s why. I’m only going to be in Australia for maybe three or four weeks, and during that time I’m moving around, first to Bondi Beach, then to the Reef, and then to Byron Bay,” I said.

“You picked good spots to hang at,” he noted.

“That’s because I’m smart,” I said, winking at him. “So if you’re hanging out with me in Sydney, you can just say you know my family and you offered to show me around while I’m in town. And you don’t have to worry about us getting all attached to each other because I’m going home in three or four weeks, so there’s an endpoint.”

“That sounds like a good plan except for one thing,” he said, acting as if he’d found a major hole in my logic. “Why the fuck would I know your family?”

“Because my grandfather is as rich as God,” I said to him flatly. “Google him. Stefan Schluter. Ranked one of the top twenty-five richest men in the world according to Forbes. And when you click on Google, you should keep in mind that he owns a big chunk of their stock, and so do I.” I was bragging, but it was important in this situation.

“That’s almost scarier,” he said. “That means people may recognize you.”

“So,” I said. “Why would that matter? And besides, you didn’t know who I was, so why would anyone else?”

“I’m not up on who’s rolling in cash and who isn’t, but there’s a lot of people in this city who are,” he said.

“And they’re going to recognize me?” I asked. It was actually possible, since I got some exposure in celebrity magazines when I was hanging around with people like Paris Hilton, but I didn’t tell him that.

“Probably not,” he said. “I set up this rule so I don’t fuck up my career, because right now, it’s all I’ve got. And I can’t break it, even if it seems stupid to you.”

“It doesn’t seem stupid to me, it just seems that with me, you can make an exception,” I said.

“You are exceptional,” he said, more to try desperately to change the subject.

I decided to change tactics. “How many guys have you fucked that are as good as we were?”

“I’ve been with a lot of blokes,” he said.

“So have I,” I said. “Answer the question.”

He looked down sheepishly. “None.”

“So that’s the reward for breaking the rule,” I said. He looked up at me and it almost looked like he had a tear in his eye, then he shook his head. “Alright,” I said, caving to the inevitable. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I, uh…” he said, stammering.

“Dude, I am not going to stalk you. There are other Australian dudes who would love to spend time with me. But I like you enough to put up with this bullshit, and to give you my number if you change your stubborn mind,” I said a little aggressively. He’d almost looked a little jealous when I said that. Instead of getting pissed off, he smiled slightly. He read off his number to me and I plugged it into my phone and dialed it. He answered the phone then hung up.

“I had a lot of fun,” he said. “Thanks.” He gave me a quick kiss, then almost fled out of the hotel room. I just stared at the door, totally annoyed. I mean, he took my number, but he probably did that just to shut me up.

I tried to call Stef to tell him about this guy and get some advice from him, but he didn’t answer. I calculated the time and saw that it was about 2:00 in the afternoon on Friday, so he was probably in a meeting. I’d have to figure out this time change shit before I started calling people. I was going to call my father, but I was still slightly peeved at him, so I called Jake instead.

“Hey there,” he answered cheerfully. “How’s down under?”

“Fucking beautiful. I can’t wait until you guys get here!” I said, faking enthusiasm.

I could hear my father muttering in the background, asking him who it was. “It’s Will,” he said, answering my father. “Did you call to talk to your father?”

“No, I called to talk to you,” I said, rolling my eyes at how intertwined they were. Besides, if I’d wanted to talk to my father, I’d have called his cell phone. “Where are you?”

“We’re up in the City,” he said. “Your father took the afternoon off and came up here, and we’re going out tonight.”

“Kick ass,” I said, so glad that Jake was getting my father to stop working all the time and balance his time and his life better.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“So I hooked up with this dude, and it was fucking awesome,” I said. I went through the whole thing, describing my night out. I told him all about the sex, which was actually fun because instead of getting uptight like my father would, he laughed about it and asked me questions that were more like what Matt would ask me. I told him about this morning, and about Connie’s rule.

“Sounds like that’s it,” he said.

“You think he’ll change is mind and call me?” I asked him hopefully.

“No way in hell,” he answered. I was about to ask him how he was so sure about that, since I didn’t want to believe him, but he answered the question for me. “He was in front of you and could have caved then. Now that you’re not in front of him, he’s not going to give into the temptation.”

“You mean you don’t think he’s back in his apartment, thinking of me, and jacking off?” I asked, kind of joking.

“He’s probably doing just that, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to call you,” Jake said. “My guess is that he’ll remember you and that you had a good time, and whenever he does, he’ll smile.” That was just so much bullshit to try and make me feel better about getting dumped, sort of, by Connie.

“Well, I’m not that into being noble. I want to fuck this dude again,” I said, cracking him up.

“You want my opinion?”

“Why the fuck do you think I called you?” I asked with faked annoyance.

“I think that maybe if you see him out again, he’ll be tempted to break his rule. Especially if he’s been drinking,” he said.

“Guess it looks like I’m buying drinks,” I joked.

“There you go,” he agreed, chuckling.

“Thanks for talking to me about this. You can fill my father in because if you don’t, your life will turn into a living hell and he’ll call me every five minutes,” I said.

“Thank you so much,” he said with exaggerated relief. I was laughing as I ended the call.

Copyright © 2020 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Chapter Comments

On 12/5/2020 at 7:00 AM, rjo said:

As I've said before I believe Will is the future of this family.

I hope a damn bus hits him or he gets eaten by a man in a gray suit at Bondi.

The first few chapters belie any notion that Will isn't easily the most selfish person in CAP.

On 12/5/2020 at 9:05 AM, centexhairysub said:

I still want Will to pull out his big dick and top Chris, make him a total little bitch.  I hate the racist bullshit that can be so prevalent in the gay community, especially the younger dance party crowd.  It isn't just in Australia but here still as well.  

It isn't just racism, it is size-ism, age-ism, able-ism, just about any other ism you can think of. A community that claims to embrace diversity means diversity as long as you are just like us, dress the same hate the same people, make fun of the fat guys and old guys like we do. Oh and NEVER tell them you are bi-sexual.

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On 5/1/2023 at 11:04 AM, PrivateTim said:

 

It isn't just racism, it is size-ism, age-ism, able-ism, just about any other ism you can think of. A community that claims to embrace diversity means diversity as long as you are just like us, dress the same hate the same people, make fun of the fat guys and old guys like we do. Oh and NEVER tell them you are bi-sexual.

Well that was spot on. 

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On 12/5/2020 at 11:56 AM, Mark Arbour said:

I actually read an interesting article (which of course I can't find now) stating that most athletes who have come out have been warmly received by their teammates, and in fact, their male teammates were more accepting of their gayness than society as a whole.  That raises some interesting questions, such was why, then, there's so much fear about coming out? 

Depending on the sport, I think there are different reasons, because each sport has its own ethos and zeitgeist.

I didn't come out in college for some of the reasons Canuk lists below. My teammates would have been fine I think, but it would have changed the dynamics of our relationship and would have changed the climate in the locker room. I felt that if I let them know I liked guys that when they looked at me, saw me, the first thing that would go through there head was, "he's gay" (without noting the difference between gay and bi) not, "oh, there is Tim".

In the wrestling world, it is such a close, personal contact sport where two guys are constantly in contact with each others junk, I think it would be nigh on impossible to be out. I've known two, world class wrestlers who cracked under the pressure of being gay and in wrestling, and committed suicide.

On 12/6/2020 at 2:58 AM, Canuk said:

As some one who came out to their swim team well after (like years after) I agree that in hindsight its all, "oh! Its fine", but at the time, pre coming out, the natural language of the change room, common discourse, bar room chat was not gay friendly. What I realise later is that for better or for worse that bar room, change room chat was exactly that. It did not represent any of their views. But at the time, this was a risk I and I suspect others, felt they couldnt take.

I think your insights are correct and as I said, maybe sport specific. It is easier to come out as gay in tennis, track, golf, figure skating, etc because of the nature of the sport. I think it would be much harder in football, rugby, soccer and water polo.

On 5/6/2023 at 2:00 PM, Gary L said:

Have I read the same series?? I can think of quite a few characters who could win that crown 👑 

Yes, but I like hyperbole as a literary device.

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