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This started out in late 2016 as my first attempt at a multi-part story. I remember pestering @Parker Owens for his agreement for me to start posting after I'd produced ... four chapters or thereabouts. His wise counsel prevailed, and I've spent a long time both completing this part, and refining the writing so it comes up to my current standards. The reception of the first two chapters has been such that I've ventured to start this story topic. Feel free to discuss or ask questions on any element of the story. I know there may be things which are distinctively English which may need further explanation. Let the open house begin.

This was a really interesting year. Last year, just right before Christmas, I told my sister that she might not have a sister-in-law but a brother-in law... After Christmas I told my Mum as well. Since then the number of people I came out to expanded to nice round 10. These people form sort of my "inner circle", some gyrate closer to me, some further, but they are nevertheless my close friends. How was a year out? I tried to come with one adjective - the most appropriate would be "eye-opening". I slightly touched the local gay "pop-culture", the "meat market", I even spent a night in a hotel owned by gays and I saw their darkroom . I found out that there are many gays in the city, and I got to realize that they are all the same as "straight" people. Maybe more vain. But I can't be so negative. Everyone knows that I met here the love of my life, my SUPERLATIVE boyfriend about whom I tend to brag endlessly, so I have to control myself. Moreover, he's coming over tomorrow and he will be mine for almost two weeks! That's almost an eternity in a long-distance relationship. Apart of my personal life, I also found my first real job, considered quitting my Ph.D. and then reconsidered, met new people and expanded my horizons towards economy and accounting and I already have plans for future development... shortly it was not only one year out, but also one year in the middle of work, school, travel and LOVE I wish all of you who read this blog MERRY CHRISTMAS and a happy, successful, loving and placid new year 2011. Hopefully the new decade will bring us more happiness than the last one.

... even if the road is often long and painful. I may have shed a tear or ten while reading this article https://www.outsports.com/2017/6/20/15835374/ryan-ocallaghan-gay-nfl-new-england-patriots-kansas-city-chiefs

Many of you will probably know that outside of my writing here and the small pile of pseudo-educational jobs I do, I'm also a political activist and one-time candidate. This is not a blog post to go on and on about my politics, but simply to set the context for everything else. Five years ago I helped pass an anti-homophobia and anti-transphobia school board policy, and since then I've had the distinct pleasure of watching people become less worried about anti-LGBTQ discrimination in my hometown's schools. Since then, other school board and countries have moved towards greater legal acceptance of LGBTQ rights and freedoms, but many youth still feel like they can't come out for fear of or familial rejection. I'm working with some of my activist friends in the real world to help create an anthology, based on the Chicken Soup books, that would showcase the lived experiences of ordinary LGBTQ people coming out in all aspects of their lives and showing that things do get better. I'm looking to eventually have 101 stories, just like the series I'm using as my template, and different sections where the stories could be found, such as coming out to parents, to siblings, at work, to friends and a few other sections that could possibly make sense. I'm the first to admit that my circle of friends is not terribly diverse, and that we also come from very similar backgrounds as activists (which I fully admit are not the same as normal humans. Our lives are much less joyful.) which may not resonate with everyone else. I'd be honoured to have people submit their stories, or if this is something the community wants to do together and publish, we can find a way to make that happen. I want this to happen, so it will happen; I'd like it to happen with the people I've met here, all the writers and the people who know how to spin a good yarn and help potentially use our writing gifts to help out kids. Thanks for reading, and hopefully thanks for your support.

Trials and Tribulations Chapter 3 is now posted. A story about the trials and tribulations of Andy Collins and friends as he confronts his sexual orientation in a small mining town of Pine Hills nestled away in the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Kentucky. Trials and Tribulations

I just published the first chapter of my first story ever. It's a coming out, coming of age story about the trials and tribulations of Andy Collins and friends as he confronts his sexual orientation in a small mining town of Pine Hills nestled away in the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Kentucky. I would love for you to give it a read and let me know if you liked the chapter and would like for me to continue the story. I know I will make mistakes,but hopefully I will learn from them and not repeat the same ones If you liked it, please remember to click on the "like it" on the bottom right of the chapter. Consider it like buying me a drink for a job well done or a pat on the back. I will also offer a poll for your use if you if you're into polls Below is a link to the story. Trials and Tribulations

Life's curves I don't know, I get so confused sometimes. I listen to people talk, read stories (fiction, i know) and like all stories there's usually a grain of truth in them. They do came from someone's experiences. Like it's been said, there's nothing new under the sun. Years ago I admitted to a friend that being gay scared me not because of what other people thought, since I had been through so much already by the age of 27 to worry with opinions not my own. It scared me because I never saw any older gay couples and I didn't want to die alone. I think the fear of dying alone made me reach out through the internet to feel close to more people since I was limited at home. Through all the chemo, radiation, and other crap I had to deal with, I was always scared of dying alone. I mean I knew my parents would always be there for me, but I mean that someone, that special someone. Yet the more I learn about life, the more I feel alone. I don't even know why I'm writing this. I'm not in remission yet, but I should be soon. So, I guess I'm getting better. There's still the bone marrow transplant donor to find and do. But, things are looking better again. Yet, I also see now that I missed out on so much as a teenager. I think I would trade my life today to have had a normal life as a teenager. Making all the mistakes and finding the new experiences. I guess I'm making a fool of myself. Tonight I set up most of the night reading a long story on nifty and envied the characters, even the sad ones. At least they got to experience life. I guess after so many years of battling my battles, I'm starting to become a little bitter over it. I do treasure my online friends, even some of the old guys that pretended to be teens before they either literally died from old age or disappeared. Life isn't always fair, in fact, it rarely is. But, I have to have the hope and belief that if you pour yourself into life, in the long run, it's all worth it. I am however real enough to know that's not always true. And it saddens me to see people have to deal with the worst life can throw at you. I wish the world wasn't like that. And like I said earlier, I dunno why I'm writing this, but here it is, raw, unedited me. Please, if you feel you can't take anymore, it will get better. There's nothing life can throw at us that we can't over come or find a way around it, it will get better. Nothing last forever, including the bad times, it will get better. Reach out to someone, talk to someone, share your feelings, it will get better. Never ever give up, it will get better. There are organizations that are there to help us through the bad times, it will get better. The Trevor Project is just one of those, reach out to them, support their work, it will get better. The Trevor Project

The question, of why one should come out in the first place, is probably as out as the coming out as such itself. Similarly, the question of why LGBT* people still need their pride parades and other events. Sure, one could argue, that there are still here and their attacks on queer people in the US or people are killed because of their sexual orientation in other countries of the world. But my answer focuses more on the individual that makes the very decision: Sure, one could argue that coming out is not a necessity since straight people don't have to come out either, but that's comparing apples to oranges. There's an organization called "SpeakOUT", where volunteer speakers hold speeches about LGBT* topics at schools. They have an exercise where each student thinks about three traits that constitutes them. Then, they start discussions in groups while avoiding mentioning these three traits. This exercise should emphasize how hard it is, to hide an important part of oneself. And this was one of the reasons for me to come out: I accepted my orientation once I was certain about being gay and even though, I hadn't encountered homophobia personally, I experienced heteronormativity in my everyday life. For instance, if I was asked if I had a girlfriend yet, there were a few possible ways to react: Denying it since having a female partner was simply ineligible Denying but translating "girlfriend" to "boyfriend" in my head since I was single anyway Coming out by correcting "girlfriend" to "boyfriend" verbally The problem with this is, that I were forced to react to this in one way or the other. If I didn't come out, I would hide a part of myself; if I did, someone else determined when I had to come out. That's why I decided to flight forward: I came out on my eighteenth birthday. — From: Ex gay husband, chapter 2 As privileged people, we often overlook it, but with small comments, we hurt marginalized fellow human beings in our everyday life. Social psychologists call that “microaggression”. There once was an interesting discussion on Twitter where somebody complained, that gays always have to rub their sexuality under everybody’s nose because his co-worker placed a picture of his boyfriend on his own desk. Straight people do that, too—with one difference, and that difference is attributable to society. Because of heteronormativity, we don’t question these pictures of straight co-workers. In the case of gay co-workers, two statements could be made in the heads of the beholders: "Oh! xyz is gay!" "Probably, he has sex with that other gay in the picture—possibly anal sex!" Meaning, the problem is not the picture but the triggers that are deeply rooted in our heads. These triggers can be reduced by more diversity.

Autumn 1985 At nineteen, my main mission in life was to “fit in” with the world around me. If I kept my head down and didn’t draw attention to myself then people would not guess my secret and not hate me for it, as I feared. It was a simple but very flawed plan, though at the time it was all I could see to do. At that time, most of my world revolved around being a member of my church and being a good Christian because that was what was expected of me with my membership there. It was an Evangelical Anglican church, and being Evangelical they preached that the church had to be all of your life, and I happily agreed with that because I so wanted to fit in somewhere. Up until then I had been an outsider in my life; I didn’t like the things other kids were passionate about, I didn’t follow all the different trends that consumed the other kids around me, I was plainly unpopular, but fitting in was the most important thing where I grew up and I failed at it. Church gave me the chance of a place where I could belong, of a place where I could be wanted, and I grabbed at it with both hands. At nineteen, church offered me a full social life and happily I jumped into it, I was wanted. There was the church service on a Sunday morning and the Young People’s Fellowship on a Sunday evening, plus the Bible study group, prayer meetings, worship practice, drama group rehearsals, and other meetings all throughout the week, but the most important of all was the Sunday morning Communion (Eucharist) Service, and everyone was expected to attend that. After this service the congregation would always move into the church hall to have a cup of tea and split off into our different cliques. This social element seemed almost as important as the service itself, or at least we had the chance to discuss the service and then discuss other people’s lives and actions. I so enjoyed this part of the morning, I belonged somewhere and there were people I could talk with. It was an extra forty-five minutes to an hour before I had to return home. The clique I belonged to was the Young People’s Fellowship, the church’s spiritual youth group. For me it was a safe clique to hide away in. We all sat together in church, went to the same church activities together, and when the Young People’s Fellowship met, we’d all agree on the same things, the things we were told we needed to believe and agree on. That Sunday morning, the church service had been noticeably different. Our regular organist, Nicholas, wasn’t there. Instead, an elderly man, with a bald and domed head, had slowly and awkwardly played the church’s organ, all the hymns at the same painfully slow pace. Now, after the service, it was all anyone could talk about. Where was Nicholas and how terrible the hymns were, some people were even calling the organ playing a disgrace, talking about how we hadn’t fully worshipped God’s glory. Suddenly I felt like an outsider again; I didn’t know what was happening, no one had thought to include me, again I had to find out for myself. I did what I had always learnt to do, I stayed quiet and listened to the conversations around me. If I listened carefully I would always learn something. Each Sunday morning, during the Communion Service, Nicholas had sat at the church’s organ, playing the hymns with gusto and energy, while his friend, Robin, sat in the pew next to him. Those two men had fascinated me. Nicholas was ten or more years older than Robin and yet they were still friends, almost constant companions at church. People from different ages didn’t mix at church, it was very much divided along age lines. People from the Young People’s Fellowship didn’t mix with the members of the Mothers Union, who didn’t mix with Full Gospel Businessmen’s Luncheon group; everyone was in awe of the church’s council members, and we all looked up to the clergy. But here were Nicholas and Robin, open with their friendship. Nicholas had always been conservatively dressed at church, he wore neat and dark suits, his grey hair cut into a short and neat style. Robin was far more stylish, obviously aware of his clothes and appearance. His hair was always neatly styled, brushed in a careful way and always parted at the side. He wore a suit too, but his suits were always sharply coloured, rich browns, bright blues and greens, neat charcoal, they were always worn over a matching waistcoat and a coordinated tie tied in a large and prominent knot under his collar. He wore several rings on his fingers back when men didn’t wear rings, even married men didn’t wear a wedding ring. The most prominent one was a gold signet ring he wore on the little finger of his left hand and he would absentmindedly turn it around on his finger when he seemed preoccupied. I was fascinated by these two men, but my fascination was always from afar. I would watch them from my pew in church. I could never speak to them because they were in such a different social circle to me. If I had spoken to them, what would I have said to them? I could never have asked them that question that nagged away at the back of my mind, were they like me? But how could I ask it when I could not even ask it of myself? I wasn’t like that, it was just a mistake, just a phase my life was stuck in, something I could deny and push down as far as I could. The Young People’s Fellowship was run by two married couples, the clean-cut Richard and Elizabeth, and their growing number of children, and the round and comical Iain and Sadie, who always had the latest electronic gadget. That morning, Iain almost bounded up to our group as we stood together in the church hall, exclaiming, “Have you lot heard? Nicholas the organist has had to leave the church because he went and married his husband!” “What?” Elizabeth replied. “Robin, that friend of his, was his homosexual lover and they went through a mock marriage,” Iain gleefully added. “That’s disgusting!” Elizabeth said, her whole face twisting up with distaste. Suddenly the whole group was alive with the subject, talking hurriedly and excitedly about it; this was true gossip that everyone could condemn and they were all condemning it. Homosexuality was disgusting, immoral, a perversion, sin made flesh. No Christian could be a homosexual, they said and they were certain that God condemned it, simply look at AIDS and all the other failings they attributed to being homosexual. And they knew they were right because they were certain they were. Elizabeth and Richard were strong in their condemnation, certain they were right in the way they were always certain their beliefs were always right. I withdrew to the edge of the group, my hands pushed into the pockets of my duffle coat, and just listened to the words bouncing around me. I knew I failed so often as a Christian, I could not live up to the high moral standards required of me. I struggled to believe all the things required of me because of the inner doubts that plagued my mind, telling me I wasn’t good enough and that I failed at every attempt. The biggest doubt that rang in my mind was that I was already going to hell just for being who I was. I am gay, but at nineteen I couldn’t begin to admit it to myself, it was my dark secret that I dreaded anyone else finding out. The only expression of my sexuality I dared to make were quick and very furtive glances at handsome men when I though no one else was watching me. In the next moment I would be flooded with guilt. I was disgusting and going straight to hell, the guilt told me. Hearing what those around me were saying, the force of their condemnation of Nicholas and Robin, again I knew I was right to be afraid. These people around me, they were the people who called me their friend, who told me they were my Christian family, and they were now pouring out the most terrible prejudice and hatred towards homosexuals. Would they turn that onto me if they knew the truth? I couldn’t take the risk so I pulled myself further within myself. Friendships were a risk; I couldn’t let people into my life, but how could I avoid hell? I was lost. That moment was chilling, I saw all my friends and my faith in a new light, this church wasn’t the safe place I’d always hoped it would be. But in the next breath, I wanted these people to like me and I wanted to be part of this group. If they found out I was gay would they treat me the same way? Would they pour out their prejudice on me and force me to leave this church? I couldn’t take that risk. I had to increase my efforts; I had to ensure I fitted in, even though I couldn’t take the biggest step, I couldn’t change my stripes. Eighteen months later, I was outed at church and they did behave exactly as they had done towards Nicholas and Robin. I was left with no choice but to leave. I should have known it would happen, I had watched it play out with their treatment of Nicholas and Robin, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. (All the names here have been changed. I am no longer in contact with anyone mentioned here so I do not know what their beliefs and views are now. People do change) (The photograph illustrating this essay is not a picture of the church where this took place) Drew

Sam Smith is the most recent of celebrity who has come out as gay. I'm betting that by the end of 2015 at least four more celebrity will come out as being gay. I'm amazed that recent development and a better understanding of the LGBT community has caused an uproar and encouraged more famous face to internationally come out. I just hope that in the future more people will feel confident enough to come out, and be happy with themselves and there sexuality.

Cute story. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6TEwb82LeM&list=TLt-vMNqTOtrI82bGqJawncuHtZEgERpeS

6 Things I Need My (Gay) Son to Understand By Patrick Roth (Huffington Post) 1. You Are Bound by Nothing. Your future is limited only by your desire to succeed and work hard. Want to be a star athlete? Work your ass off. Want to join the military? Aim high. Want to be president? Go for it. Being gay in America no longer prevents you from doing anything you want to do. You just have to want it bad enough and work for it tirelessly. Don't be afraid of failure; it often teaches us far more than success ever could. Live authentically. 2. Being Gay Is a Big Part of You, But It Isn't All of You. Yes, you're gloriously, fabulously gay! Your sexuality influences just about every aspect of your identity, but you are not a gay young man. You are a young man who is gay. You are not my gay son. You are my son who happens to be gay. If you get married, it won't be a gay marriage, just a marriage. Oh, and for the record, I want grandkids. Don't think being gay lets you off the hook on that one. It may define you, but it isn't the sole definition. One day I hope it will be as irrelevant as your eye color. In the meantime, know that while there may be those who give you grief because of it, far more will not give it a second thought. 3. Know Your History. You are fortunate to live in a loving, accepting environment where the fact that you're gay is irrelevant at home and largely unremarkable at school. It hasn't always been this way, and it still isn't easy for everyone. There was a time not long ago when being openly gay was not just detrimental to success, it was potentially deadly. Countless numbers of men and women have fought for the relative safety and comfort you enjoy today. The modern gay rights movement, from Stonewall to Windsor, cost a lot of people real blood, sweat and tears, and it isn't over. For many people around the world, being gay is still a deadly proposition. You need to honor those who came before you by fighting for those who will come after you. 4. HIV Is Still Deadly. HIV/AIDS may seem like some obscure bit of history that only older gay men have to deal with. It isn't. Young people account for nearly a quarter of all new HIV infections. Don't be complacent. Treatment has gotten much better, but people still die from AIDS. Don't think it can't happen to you; it can. Don't be afraid of sex, but know how to keep yourself safe and always assume anyone you're with could be carrying something. He may not even know it. You are responsible for keeping yourself healthy. Play safe and get tested regularly. 5. Understand the Difference Between Lust, Love and Friendship. Men, by and large, will eagerly participate in sex. Know that just because a guy is willing to get naked with you, it doesn't mean he is interested in anything else. Frankly, it doesn't even mean he's gay. Also, don't assume a guy wants to get naked just because he's friendly. There will be men who think you're cool or funny or whatever, but it doesn't mean they want to get physical. They may just want to be your friend. Work to understand the difference. One day, you'll find someone who is all those things and he'll feel the same about you. Don't settle. 6. I Love You. Last, and most importantly, I love you. My love for you is unquestionable, unconditional, and unending. Never forget that.

Juno is one of my favourite movies, and the main reason for that is that the lead actress charmed me so completely from the first second. I've been a fan of Ellen Page ever since, so I was a little extra overjoyed when I fount out, no more than 15 minutes ago, that she's come out and joined the ranks of proud out queer artists. Also, her coming out speech made me weep buckets. It's a little long, but it's totally worth the watch. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6XJkZf7KhjA

This is a really very moving coming out video... Not that Troye Sivan didn't ping on my gaydar from the moment I first watched one of his videos, but all the same. Well done, Troye!

Just gonna leave tissues on the side table for people who need it. This is why coming out is so important and that we live our authentic truths. https://www.outsports.com/2017/6/21/15851730/gay-pride-fathers-day-son-micah-porter

Welcome to the spot where you can discuss the story 'The Field of Love' Well, I've started my second story. I hope you all like it!

Hi everyone! My name is Dylan, for those of you who don't know me! I'd appreciate it if you could stop on by and take a look at my story "Rooted in My Heart" - It'd mean a lot to me! Love you all~ Description: A lonely teenager simply searching for love in life, finds a connection to a childhood acquaintance and tries desperately to befriend him. When his best friend comes up with a plan to solve his problem, will it work, or will it only cause him more pain? Link: https://www.gayauthors.org/story/autumn-dream/rootedinmyheart

[sharedmedia=stories:stories:5578] So Marty and Hrishi should be keeping y'all entertained for the next 13 weeks. General warning: they both swear, a lot, and they're not exactly nice to each other most of the time, and they're kinky as hell. But they're fun! Enjoy my darlings.

Hello everybody! For all of you who don't know me yet, I'm A.D. Anyhoozles (lol), it seems to be a common thing to create threads for stories on GA, most notably those that are doing well (and I'd like to think RIMH is ). So, I thought I'd create my own little thread for this story. For those of you that have taken the time to read, rate, and review already, thank you so much! I appreciate all of the kind words and support! For those of you that haven't done any of the aforementioned, feel free! All of your support keeps me motivated to write more! See, we're working as a team on RIMH. Also, I'd like to know what some of you are thinking so far! What do you think will come from some of the odd bits of foreshadowing I've dropped around? Who do you think the note is really from? Will Eden come around and stop being mad at Dylan? Has Denika messed up Dylan's chances with Tanis with her crazy plan, or made them better? I'd love to hear! Hope everyone is well~ A.D. (Edit) Description of the story (should probably include that!): Rooted in My Heart is a tale about a boy's first love, and the struggles he goes through to try and win him over. Dylan not only has to worry about his crush, but also a stressful home-life involving an alcoholic father. When those issues don't seem to be enough, Dylan finds himself in a tricky situation with a girl... and a love letter. Eventually, it all comes to head in a twist filled with pain, suffering, loss, lies, and deceit, but maybe... love will find it's way in too.

So this seems a little bit self-serving... I have began to post my first made-for-GA story on the site and thought people might like to talk about it. Who knows. Bad Stereotypes is about a young man named Bay, who after having his friends and family assume that just because he's come out of the closet he wants to be camp now, runs away to the city on the sea where his Godfather owns a rock and metal bar and club. The story is told is short chapters with numerous flashbacks of Bay's past and history, which help to explain why an out gay guy "hates queers". How Bay gets from his repressed but out point of view to being happy involves a cast of interesting work-mates and one very special man. Four chapters currently available with a new one posted each day. Current length is 13k, and i would project anywhere between 20 and 30k when it's finished. Also, quite randomly, disability themed undertones. Though i'm not quite sure why that is. so, let me know what you think. and yes, some of the chapters are very short. i'm sorry.

What if you could go back in time, and change that one day when you decided to come out? The Portal deals with that question, a flash fiction story just about 1500 words long. Let me know what you think! Read it here: The Portal by Albert Nothlit https://www.gayauthors.org/story/albertnothlit/theportal_2015

(mom, or someone else) " I speed-dialled 'DADDY' from your phone - but it wasn't your father that answered!"

OK, it's been a long time since I used this forum, but here goes. This is the first little bit of something I've been mulling over, and which the lovely Reader1810 has also been mulling over with me (with infinitely more editing skill than I, it must be said). Are we intrigued? I have: 1) no idea where this is going 2) no name the for the main character, and I’m not totally sure he's ever going to get one 3) no planning of any sort 4) no clue where this idea came from, or when my brain thinks I'll have the spare time to write it. _____________________________________________________________________________________________ BAD The realisation that Kai Fischer isn’t the good golden boy everyone else thinks he is hits me one Thursday afternoon as I’m taking a piss. I’m just finishing up in a cubicle when I hear the door bang open, trainers squeak on the floor, and half of a very tense conversation. “Yes… yes I know. Of course I’m trying!” Whoever it is sounds like someone trying very hard not to punch the wall. “Sorry Father, I’ll work harder. Yes. Yes OK. But-!” Another pause, this one silent. “Yes Sir. Goodbye.” Just as I’m about to zip up and flush, the near silence is broken again. “FUCK!” There is the sound of something I guess is a rather expensive mobile phone being hurled across the room, smashing against the tiles. “FUCK! AHHH! Useless fucking shitting hell!” I turn, tuck myself into my jeans and open the door to see Kai Fischer. Everyone’s favourite everything is standing in what he clearly thought was an empty bathroom, glaring at the remnants of a brand new iPhone. I could never afford one, even on credit; but already, I know he’ll have a replacement by the morning. His whole body snaps towards me as I appear, lounging against the doorjamb with a small grin. Kai Fischer is always the model of control and poise, elegance, grace, maturity, and consideration. But apparently, not always…. “Well, well, so you do have a shadow after all.” His blue eyes are hard and narrow, lips pressed tightly firm. I doubt he’s going to say anything to me. “I wonder what your fan club will say when they find out you’re not actually a demi-god, and you have a temper like us mere mortals.” “It’s none of your business.” His voice is terse and sharp, not at all like the smiling, laughing, uber-polite young man I sometimes see across the quad. I cross to the sinks silently, still watching him as I wash my hands before running damp fingers through my fringe. My hair isn’t what you’d call ‘styled’ but as long as it doesn’t get in the way when I’m working, I don’t care. Good hair doesn’t make up for never having any money, and getting dates with hot girls isn’t really high up on my list of priorities. I’d rather make rent and get my rocks off after a fight with whoever happens to be there. Kai is still watching me watching him, his eyes flashing with bottled in fury, one hand clenched around the porcelain sink. His knuckles are white. “Will you stop fucking looking at me?” “Nope.” I stand, and turn towards him, hooking my thumbs into my pockets. “After all, once you leave here, you’ll probably go back to being the perfect golden boy everyone else thinks you are.” Kai shoots me a look, which might make a lesser man wither in his boots. “And what’s wrong with being seen as nice to everyone?” he snaps. I take a step closer to him, our bodies inches away from each other. Suddenly I can smell him, a clean smooth scent like I’d imagine fresh laundry to be; like the sort you see in adverts where everything is super white and a pretty woman wafts a bed-sheet in the summer shine. The scent makes me dizzy in the back of my mind, and I want to move away, but I refuse to appear weak in front of him. “Because it’s a lie.” “Oh, because you’re so well known for being honourable?” Kai arches a perfectly maintained eyebrow at me. “What is it you do exactly besides skip classes and get wasted?” I’m not sure what makes me do it; maybe it’s his body heat radiating against me, or how neat and perfectly put together he looks, or the hard anger in his eyes which looks so out of place; whatever it is, I don’t think about it, I just grab the front of his shirt, yank him forwards so our chests meet with a dull thud and kiss him. I’m taller, fractionally, but he still had to have angled his face up to meet mine, our lips landing on each other so perfectly. I’ve never wanted to kiss another guy before, never been tempted to experiment, but Kai’s lips are soft as he opens up for my tongue, his body firm, and when his hand presses tight over my crotch, I can feel that he’s strong. He’s a man after all, and I try to move away, but Kai squeezes me and my body responds. Whatever else Kai Fischer is famous for, it should be his dexterity. Before I can even form a thought, he’s got my fly open, his hand in my boxers, and his fingers wrapped around my cock. I gasp sharply into his mouth, and Kai gives a little purr of satisfaction as he touches me. I break the kiss, and find Kai’s blue eyes inches away still watching me as he jacks me off. His gaze is possessive, powerful, complicated, and all consuming. I can’t look away and I don’t want to. I find my fingers running through his perfectly coiffed hair, he almost snarls as I grip the silky strands tightly. The fact that I didn’t jerk off this morning has nothing to do with it: Kai is as gifted at the art of hand jobs as he is at pretending to be Mr. Perfect in front of the rest of the world. His fan-girls would faint if they had any idea what he was doing to me in a third floor bathroom. “Are you close?” Kai’s voice is barely above a whisper, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. “Do you want to come?” “Unghh….” I don’t ever remember feeling so warm, so close to ecstasy, not even whilst fucking, not even during a fight. Kai is pressing every single button I didn’t even know I had.

Chapter 2 is now posted of my first story ever and I'm not sure if I have what it takes to write. It's a story about the trials and tribulations of Andy Collins and friends as he confronts his sexual orientation in a small mining town of Pine Hills nestled away in the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Kentucky. Please read and let me know what you think about the first chapter of the first story I've written. Trials and Tribulations

Dear all GA members, Now that Prince George has been born we now know that we will have another king after William, Prince George is very young at the moment but when he reaches his teens how do you think the royal family would react if he turned out to be gay. I know that it is much easier for gay people to come out of the closet in this generation and more in the future, but what if a member of the royal family came out and said he was gay. please send feedback and comment, yours, scotty 94