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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. 

The Reluctant Master - 2. Chapter 2

A tough beginning. Caution advised. Bail if necessary. Lighter chapters ahead.

Ray

From ray: In-shape silver daddy seeks master. 65 yrs old, smooth, uncut man with experience in bondage, discipline, with especial emphasis on tit torture, cbt, light flogging, hotwax, seeks top man for regular meetings. Deeply into oral service of master and other needs that must be fulfilled. Not into domestic servitude.

From Alan: Thanks for your note.

From ray: I am intrigued by your description. As a (much) younger man, I was paid to strip from a suit and tie to complete nakedness for someone’s birthday party. All male. Long before stripping telegrams and the like. The men, about twelve of them, just clapped their hands rhythmically. No music. Then, however, I served drinks to them (still naked) and was plied with wine and beer myself. I was sixteen, just coming up to seventeen, and had no head for it. So I more or less passed out and suppose, since I woke up in the bathroom in a bath full of cold water being sponged by the host, that I had been raped at least once. However, though this thought was a hot one, since I had no real memory of it and can’t be sure it happened, in retrospect, it was the business of peeling off my tie, jacket, shirt, shoes – and ‘socks too’ a couple of them chanted – before dropping my pants and sliding out of my shorts to whistles and applause that really made me tremble with delight. And I was paid to do it.

From Alan: Thanks again for writing. Imagination often beats everything.

From ray: Curious to know, if you can be bothered to tell me, how you discovered that this was your special bliss. And is it as voyeur or participant that you get most pleasure. If you need an audience, I’d be pleased to watch. If you need a performer, I could draw on my experience which happened however a long, long time ago.
(Attached: Full front photo of a grey-haired man, from head to hips. Bare chest. Half open pale blue jeans, without shorts. Hands behind back. Full head of hair, neatly parted. Slight grey mustache. Regular features, possibly Scandinavian. Staring straight into camera, slightly defiant, dark eyes narrowed to slits, mouth straight and unsmiling, but at slight angle to eyes. Ruddy face. Pale, hairless body. Slightly sunburned lower arms. Fleshy neck. Possibly shaved or cropped pubic hair. Good arms. Good tone to upper chest. Slight sag to belly and possible appendectomy scar.)

From Alan: No one ever wants to hear this, but you must have been something to look at as a young man because you still have some of that left. And I mostly use this site to look at guys. I’m pretty well out of action otherwise. But it was great to hear your story and see you so comfortably exposed. Here’s a photo of me, just for fun. It was taken a couple of years ago and my hair’s kind of mouse brown now.
(Attached: A head shot, clearly a formal school picture. A man with short, light blond hair and light blue eyes, wearing a white shirt, blue-striped tie, and black jacket. Good-looking, but fairly ordinary. Smiling.)

From ray: So good to hear from you and to hear about your ‘other side.’ I am on this site for two reasons. Someone ‘ordered’ me to register here and it re-awakened my desire to be both dominated and humiliated in ways I haven’t been for a long time. I have regular fuckbuddies of all sorts, shapes, and sizes but tho they give me ardent, fulfilling sex, they don’t strip my spirit bare, nor abuse me physically as I want to be abused. In spite of my age or maybe because of it, I’ve played with two tops already and talked with another, and have two more lined up to play with. So far, so bad. Those three men I’ve dealt with seem to be assuming the role of Master to bolster their own feelings of inadequacy. I need someone strong to ‘rest’ in. Seeing your face awakens of course a desire to see you naked but gradually so, one garment after another sliding slowly to the floor.

From Alan: I’ve occasionally sent a partial shot of me naked. Of just my dick or from behind, or a full-length front shot without my face. Lately, I’m more comfortable with no picture. That doesn’t attract guys and lets me comfortably lurk. There’s just the one head shot that I keep stashed for guys who ask.
I’m guessing that the guy who ordered you onto this site also took that raw photo of you. It’s appealing in its starkness and certainly destroys any vanity you might have. But I’d hate to think he did it to build himself up rather than diminish you. If you really have to have it, it seems your humiliation should all be about reducing you, to keep you aroused. That’s what I used to do if I was with a guy who thought he needed to be embarrassed. Still, if I have sex with guys at all now, I keep my clothes on. That keeps the sex focused on them and makes me feel less like I’m cheating on my wife and family.

From ray: I wish you hadn’t described that so clearly. It’s roused in me an intense desire to submit to you and to feel what might be that new depth of humiliation that I am always seeking. Yes, ‘He’ supervised the shoot. Ironically, tho the pic was intended to complete my humiliation, it has brought me much flattering attention on two other sites, some wonderful sex of quite another kind, and only on this site have my ‘encounters’ so far been disappointing. Is there any chance that we could meet? You’ve sensed my hunger. Would there be some gratification at least for you in bringing me lower than I have ever been before. I also should mention that the thought of several hours with you fully dressed and me nude excites me greatly. The best and closest times I’ve had have been with a Japanese top man. They are all day affairs and involve physical but only implied mental humiliation. My sense of you is that I should be stripped verbally as well as physically, something I’ve never really had before.

From Alan: The point is you’re already stripping verbally in these notes, and you continue to do that every time you write. Stripping you physically wouldn’t take much, though once clothes come off, they’re off. Again, as I said, if I had to humble guys, I mainly did that by having their bodies rebel against them in easy ways. For example, making a guy drink too much water then not letting him release it. The slightest bit of pain, often a tweaked nipple, is another. Guys simply seem to gets high on these ideas. And it’s their grinning I most like to see. And if I occasionally need to slip my finger up a guy’s butt, that’s okay, too.

From ray: Are we just talking or do you want to put me through this? The idea of drinking water and not being able to relieve myself is more to do with discomfort then sexual longing. Though I really like my tits tortured. Is the bottom man restrained through all this? If you were to work my nipples, it would exacerbate the longing to release sexually. You sound very cool and cruel into the bargain. An irresistible combination.

From Alan: We’re just talking, and I don’t mean in any way to seem cruel. Perhaps you’re imagining or want to imagine that. As for the discomfort from over-drinking, the water builds pressure in a guy’s dick. It’s like waking pleasantly aroused in the middle of the night, but knowing it’s really because you need to use the john. Though if a guy’s already aroused, the discomfort adds to that feeling, and everything becomes sensual. Slipping a lubed finger up his ass just intensifies that. And I’ve lightly restrained guys who think they need that. But I prefer a guy who’s trapped himself somewhere mentally and doesn’t need ropes. Finally, I’m really not cool. No one has ever described me as that. I’m mainly uninterested.

From ray: I live with my niece but could meet you at a friend’s house. He will have a place where we can be private. The light restraints sound right initially then could come off when you think fit. I suppose that I must be resigned to your being fully dressed. Perhaps it’s better since, if you were even stripped to the waist, I should want to touch and service you in some way. Let me know of some windows of opportunity. The daytime is best for me. Starting as early as noontime if possible. And weekdays not the weekend so much. Let me know if the geography suits you. Where are you situated?

From Alan: Whoa! Whoa. I never said anything about meeting you. In fact, I was pretty clear that we were just talking. And you seem to be doing fine having sex with other guys. You don’t need me.

From ray: I have told you that the experience I have had with other men on this site has left me far from satisfied. And the fact that you don’t seem to be interested arouses me further. I don’t think I have ever been so passionate when merely writing to a man. It would be disappointing to know that you’re not in any way aroused.

From Alan: Then be disappointed. I’ve mostly answered your notes while sitting in my office at school and fielding other work while I wrote. It would be inappropriate to have my pants down around my knees.

From ray: I am ashamed to admit that even thinking about your pants that way made me ejaculate in my hand. When I reported that to the man who ordered me onto this site, as I am dutifully bound to do so, he made me ejaculate again in front of him. And you can imagine that, at my age, that hurt. So you are already being cruel to me even though you state that is not your intention.

From Alan: As I said, I don’t mean to be cruel. Ever.

From ray: But you have to admit that sometimes it does happen.

From Alan: Right now, I’m considering whether it would be meaner to end this conversation or politely go on.

From ray: If you end the conversation, I will still have the thought of you in your office chair bringing yourself to the height of ejaculation.

From Alan: I never said that, either. You really do work your imagination, Writing you has nothing to do with sex.

From ray: Then why would you have your trousers down while sitting in your office?

From Alan: How can I shake that image from you without seeming rude?

From ray: Rude and cruel sometimes go together. If you really want to remove that image, you would have to replace it with one that is stronger, and I can think of one easy way.

From Alan: I’ll bet. Can you think of another way?

From ray: The consideration is that I do not want to. I want to be with you without my clothes and I want to be connecting with you then in the same intense way we are connecting now. I am certain you would not have continued to write me if in some way you did not feel connected.

From Alan: You’ve got me on that one. Though I only saw that photo of you once, and though I deleted it immediately, it’s also a hard image to shake.

From ray: Then let me replace it with a stronger one.

From Alan: No.

From ray: You will not even consider it?

From Alan: No.

From ray: Am I really that unappealing to you?

From Alan: You’re not unappealing. But meeting you isn’t something I want to do. In a way, it’s almost unnecessary.

From ray: Almost?

From Alan: C’mon. Give me a break. I’m an ordinary guy.

From ray: Well, it may not be something you want to do, but I would question if it is not something you need to do. If it were not, why would you remain on this website?

From Alan: I suppose the advantage of your being 20 years older than I am is you’re a lot more experienced. And you’re right – if I weren’t somewhat interested, I wouldn’t keep looking at pictures of guys online.

From ray: Then let me help you release some of those feelings, if only for a time.

From Alan: I really need to think about that.

From ray: Please feel free to take your time.

From Alan: Thanks.

From ray: You have had three days and I patiently have not written. Have you thought about what we discussed, or have you managed to forget completely about me?

From Alan: I haven’t entirely forgotten. But I have more important things to do.

From ray: What is it you like about my photograph? Or is it that you prefer to think of me as a nude and submissive object?

From Alan: I prefer not to think of you at all.

From ray: But you do.

From Alan: Very occasionally.

From ray: Then, as the saying goes, either use the facilities or politely leave the room.

From Alan: You’re almost funny in your way.

From ray: Thank you.

From Alan: What can I do to dissuade you?

From ray: You can’t. I’m a little terrier who has his teeth deep into your dick.

From Alan: An unfortunate thought. Now, I’m in pain.

From ray: I am sure it cannot match mine.

From Alan: Again, you’re a bit over-active with your imagination.

From ray: I do not think so. I find myself lying in bed at night for hours, dreaming of being naked at your feet.

From Alan: I really should meet you, just so you’ll be disappointed.

From ray: That could not happen.

From Alan: What if I only stayed 2 minutes.

From ray: Two minutes naked with you would be heaven.

From Alan: You have a very short view of eternity.

From ray: I am already going to Hell. That is not a question. Please let me burn with a memory of you.

From Alan: There’s a thought. Can we make it soon?

From ray: Is that a “Yes?”

From Alan: No. It was a joke. A cruel one.

From ray: And you promised not to be cruel.

From Alan: I tried to promise that. But nothing else.

From ray: You said ‘What if I only stayed 2 minutes?’

From Alan: It was hypothetical. And you’re really pissing me off.

From ray: You are actually only getting angry at yourself. You are fighting what you deeply want and need.

From Alan: Look if I meet you – once– will it get your tiny Terrier teeth out of my shorts?

From ray: When is the best time for you?

From Alan: I can only stay an hour. At most.

From ray: An hour is less than I imagined, although an hour with you would perhaps equal spending an afternoon with another man.

From Alan: Where? You mentioned a friend.

From ray: Yes, I think meeting at my friend’s house might be best. It is southwest of the city. I am available any time after noon.

From Alan: That will be fine. Normally, I don’t play during the day, but next week, we’re on an off schedule. Tuesday at noon is my best possibility.

From ray: I think noon on Tuesday would be fine. I will confirm.

From Alan: I’ll need the address.

From ray: His house is at 641 River Street. I do not know if you use computers for directions, but even if you do, you would get lost following them. My friend’s house is on a dirt road back from the main street. The dirt road dead ends just south of his long, shared gravel driveway. At this T Junction, take a L. Then, very quickly take the first R. Again, very quickly take the next R. At this point you are climbing quite steeply. The next R is hidden until you are almost on top of it. That is where his house is located. On the L Hand side of the road you will see 641 with a red garage at the foot of some stairs and a paved area beside that. Park there on the paved area. And climb the stairs. I will be at the top of them. You may not see my host at all. I shall have to service him after as ‘payment’. The stairs are many, but the house, the view of the river, and the quiet are worth it. I hope I made it clear that after the L turn at the T Junction, you make three Right hand turns. The telephone no. is 555-1212. The hosts’s name is Larry. He has a detached, single-room guest house where we can play. Please let me know that you received this message.

From Alan: I got it. You’re a complicated man. But I promised you noon, Tuesday, and I keep my promises. Does your friend need to watch?

From ray: Do you want him to watch? He has invited you to join us in the jacuzzi after, but I supposed you would not want to shed your clothes in front of me.

From Alan: Nope, my clothes stay on.

From ray: Larry says that he is honored by your invitation. He has a deadline he has to meet, which has him crouched over his computer but He asked if he might come in after the scene has started if he can clear the decks. Knowing him, it will be almost impossible for him to stay away. The only other scenes I have shared with Larry had him as an equal participant. I have told him in this case he must only observe and must go on wearing his usual army pants and tank top. Was I right to do this?

From Alan: Larry can be there if it makes the short experience more memorable for you. But I’d like to start without him. This is finally about you.

From ray: That is clear.

(They meet.)

From ray: That was not what I expected.

(No response from Alan.)

From ray: You really hurt me. You were not supposed to do that.

(No response from Alan.)

From ray: You said you were not going to do that at all. You insisted the point was to keep me intensely mentally and physically aroused.

(No response from Alan.)

From ray: You lied.

From Alan: Let go of this.

From ray: So you are reading my notes, you liar.

From Alan: Let’s not go into who lied.

From ray: You did. Hugely. Liar! Liar!

From Alan: You’re a bit old to be calling names.

From ray: And you are just a big bully.

From Alan: In fact, you’re a bit older than you said.

From ray: Everyone changes their age online.

From Alan: I don’t. I don’t change anything. And people who lie really piss me off.

From ray: You are the one who lied.

From Alan: You’re right about that. But I lie to my wife and family and friends. I don’t lie to men I’m planning to play with.

From ray: You lied to me.

From Alan: I absolutely didn’t. But you pissed me off.

From ray: You do not need to be crude about it.

From Alan: And once I’m pissed off, unfortunately, all bets are off. I just get angry.

From ray: You still did not have to hurt me.

From Alan: It was hardly “hurt.” Probably far less than you’ve willingly experienced, possibly begged for. But before you get distracted with that, let’s tell a little of your truth. You’ve got to be 85. And you stink like an old dead man.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Now who can’t face what I’m saying? Now why can’t talk? And you want to know how I saw it? How it played out for me?

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Unfortunately, now I will have to be intentionally cruel. Though just making you go through it again, could probably make a younger guy’s dick hard. Not your dick. I’ll bet that hasn’t been hard for 20 years. But it may make your brain remember what it was like when that tiny stub of yours still could get hard.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: All right then, just read along. I don’t expect a reply. Once I looked at you, I should have just left. I don’t normally fuck great-grandfathers. But you see I got hard, winding my way out River Street, because – as I told you – I don’t do this very often. And I was already running late because your friend’s house is a little tricky to get to, so I was already making up mental excuses to eventually tell one of my assistants because she’d have to cover for me. Because you see I wanted to be fair to you. I didn’t want to give you less than the hour I’d promised.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And then I saw you. I climbed all those rotting wooden steps to your friend’s rickety house, and when you pointed to the “guest house,” I thought it might be the original Ark, with all the animals intact. But I had no intention on going in there and scaring them. Besides, stripping a guy outdoors can be fun. And as I stood at the top of that hill, I saw the perfect place, shaded by pine trees. So I surprised you by pointing toward the spot. And when I came closer, you surprised me by smelling like hell.

From ray: I don’t smell.

From Alan: So you’re back. I didn’t think you could stop reading – a man who needs humiliation that much.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And you do smell. It’s an old nursing home stink. I’m not a big fan of aftershave, but you should swim in it. ‘Specially if you’re going to keep pulling stunts like this.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Okay, then read. Once we got to the pine trees, I made you sit on that log, and I stood behind you. Know why? Because I needed to calm down. I was that pissed. But my dick was still hard, and I thought about just shooting on the back of your head, then leaving.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Instead, I pulled you to your feet and stripped you from behind. Your shirt was already open to the waist, like that bony chest was something to show off. And you surprised me again. You said you liked having your nipples tortured. But you didn’t tell me they were the size of grapes.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: How long does it take a guy to do so much damage to his body? When I rolled your nipples, gently, between my fingers, I was surprised they didn’t split and squirt. You groaned anyway, but I knew it was in pleasure, not pain. That’s when I told you to lie down. Face down, so you couldn’t see me.

From ray: I liked that. You were very butch.

From Alan: I don’t use words like that. I don’t even think of them. Even guys over 60 stopped using them before I was born.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And I nearly left then, thinking enough was enough.

From ray: The ground was hard..

From Alan: It was uneven.

From ray: It was covered with pine needles and twigs.

From Alan: So you whined.

From ray: I rightly complained.

From Alan: Which you’re not allowed to do.

From ray: The needles were sharp, and there were ants.

From Alan: I didn’t care. And your whining just pissed me off more. So I picked up a twig and began flicking your butt. Which you didn’t react to at all. So I eased my finger up your ass.

From ray: You could have at least spit on it.

From Alan: It that your idea of lube? Elegant gentleman that you are?

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Not that you need any kind of lube. Your hole opened so wide, my foot could have stepped into it, wingtip and all.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: You said you were raped at 16. But I’ll bet you’ve had 16 million dicks up there since.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And I’ll bet – if your dick could still get hard – that memory would make it pop.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Anyway, your limp asshole also pissed me off. So I told you to flip on your back, and you whined some more.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Though once you turned over, I could see all the little crisscross marks on your chest and belly – from the branches and the twigs. And I felt guilty about that. But then you tugged at your puny, shriveled dick, trying to get hard. And I’ll admit I liked the pale blue head when you skinned back the foreskin.

From ray:  :)

From Alan: That’s when I pinched your nipples again. Your face twisted when you moaned, but you were grinning. And letting your nipples go only made you groan louder when the blood flowed back in.

From ray: If you had done that for an hour, it would have been wonderful.

From Alan: Maybe for you. I was pretty bored. But at least I was calming down

From ray: So you tried to get me hard..

From Alan: You remember that well enough. For a guy who hated everything.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And I didn’t just try to get you hard. I worked very hard at it. Fortunately, I’d brought some lube.

From ray: It still hurt.

From Alan: How could you tell when you were so happily moaning?

From ray: I wasn’t happy.

From Alan: Sure fooled me. Mouth open in a big, stupid grin. Butt grinding against the twigs.

From ray: I was trying to pull away.

From Alan: You were whimpering, “Please, Sir.” And it wasn’t, “Please Stop.” It was “More.”

(No response from ray)

From Alan: So I let your dick go and toyed with your foreskin. Only it doesn’t have much play left in it because it’s been too badly handled. So have your balls. When I poked your sack, trying to find your seemingly missing left testicle, you didn’t even gasp. Your mouth opened, showing me all those straight, white caps.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And I knew I should leave. Your old guy smell was leaking out your butt, and I was trying not to dirty my pants. What’s worse, I knew you were putting yourself through this on some other guy’s orders. And probably that “friend” was watching through binoculars.

From ray: He wasn’t.

From Alan: But you weren’t getting any pleasure out of this. You were soft. And I wasn’t having any fun.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: If you’d just been honest. If you’d said, “Yes,” when I said, “You really hate this, don’t you?” I would have gone.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: But you didn’t. Maybe you couldn’t. And that’s when I crunched your balls.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: You didn’t even yelp. I could have really clenched my fist on your sack, and you would have only grinned. Though I finally did hear you mumble, “Yes, Sir. I was ordered to do this, Sir. I’m being punished, Sir, because I was bad.”

(No response from ray)

From Alan: That’s when I asked if your friend Larry was your master. And you just stared at me. Wouldn’t even admit to that.

From ray: I should have told you, Sir. I shouldn’t have lied, Sir. A man should never lie.

From Alan: "Sir.”

From ray: Sir.

From Alan: Don’t forget that.

From ray: I’m sorry, Sir.

From Alan: And that’s when I really began to feel sorry for you. That’s when I sat you on the log again and brushed you off. I cleaned your nipples and dick. And I felt terrible about the cuts.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: I oozed the lube onto the cuts.

From ray: That hurt, Sir.

From Alan: You groaned like you were being cut again. But it was one of your happy groans. So I lubed your chest and belly. Massaged your shoulders and thighs. You groaned like you were in ecstasy.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: So I said, “You deserve some fun.”

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And from then on, any time I even brushed my hand against your nipples, it sent you quivering. And when – from curiosity – I skinned back your dick again, the head was dripping.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: So I stroked, patiently, squatting beside you.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And when my fingers eased into your butt, that hole went as wide as the Grand Canyon. And it was wet as your dick. You could’ve been pissing out it.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And that’s when I saw your friend. Maybe he hadn’t been spying on us. Maybe he’d finished his work and was headed toward the guest house. But we were out of his sight. So I watched him and kept stroking your dick. And your eyes were closed, and you were moaning.

From ray: My chest hurt, Sir.

From Alan: And your friend went into guest house. And as I waited for him to come out, your asshole contracted, quickly, as much as it was able, and you said, “I don’t think you’ll get any more, Sir.”

(No response from ray)

From Alan: And that’s when I realized you’d come. With a soft dick and not a dribble of anything on my hand. I let you sink back against my chest, wondering if your smell would stink up my shirt.

From ray: I liked that, Sir.

From Alan: I promised you an hour and it wasn’t 20 minutes.

From ray: And then you took me naked back to Larry.

From Alan: He expected that.

From ray: You might have let me cover myself.

From Alan: He would’ve made you strip.

From ray: You are right, Sir..

From Alan: And you were pretty unsteady, going down those steps. You needed my hand on your shoulder.

From ray: I needed my shoes, Sir.

From Alan: But even coming hadn’t made you happy. Even shooting your tiny wad.

From ray: I am not meant to be happy, Sir.

From Alan: Did Larry punish you after I left? Did you have something more to deal with?

(No response from ray)

From Alan: You’ve got to tell guys what you really want. Or else, you’ll only be hurt again.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Though Larry seemed like a nice enough guy when we met. He seems to be your age, so you’re probably well-matched. And when I was washing up, in the kitchen, he sounded intelligent. Of course, at that point, you were lying naked on the floor.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: But when that music was playing, and he was lecturing you, he knew the composer was Borodin. And he knew Borodin had been a doctor who wrote only for his friends.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Did you both think I was invisible? Or stupid? The only thing he said to me as I left was, “Good job.”

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Anyway, the old guy stink must’ve worn off before I got back to the office. Because my assistants didn’t even ask.

(No response from ray)

From Alan: Take care of yourself, will you? Can you do that?

(No response from ray, and that was the last Alan wrote. But almost a year later, he saw the same photo of Ray online, with the same bio and – astonishingly – the same age. At first, Alan
did nothing. Finally, his memory got the best of him.)

From Alan: The photo’s still not very flattering, and the bio’s a bit much. You could at least mention you can’t get it up anymore. And you could add that you don’t like pain.

Ray immediately wrote back. From ray: If we have met before, which seems to me very unlikely, I have managed to do what any sensible man would do after meeting you and that is to forget you completely.

Alan dug through his files. He kept loose track of guys he’d had sex with because of disease. He found Ray’s first note and wrote.
From Alan: You’re not a sensible man, and I don’t know how long it’s been since you were an honest one. Maybe this will remind you: “As a (much) younger man, I was paid to strip from a suit and tie to complete nakedness for someone’s birthday party. All male. Long before stripping telegrams and the like.”
The message continued through the rest of Ray’s first letter, which was all Alan had kept. He was sure Ray would write back and was as sure Ray would be angry.

Instead ray replied: Forty years ago I was living on another continent. Just as you are living now on another planet.

Alan wrote: That’s fine. It’s mostly a question of what you need to believe. But good luck. And try to take care of yourself.

Of course, there was no answer.

2014 Richard Eisbrouch
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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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