When he had no place to stay one summer, he crashed at my small one-bedroom apartment on Beacon Hill. He stirred, gasped, looked straight ahead, but said nothing. Gay sex I didn’t care. It was obvious from the bulge in his boxers that he was excited.My hand slithered downward and my fingers ran along his belly button and blondish treasure trail. And yet, that makes him even more appealing as a challenge I’m keen to take.Once when he and the gang, all totally aware of my sexual proclivities, were leaving a friend’s house after the Super Bowl, emboldened by wine, I blurted out, “Tim, I have a boffo new LG OLED 65-inch TV. So I upped the ante and rubbed one of his nipples. He stretched his hands behind the back of his head in the classic “do me” pose. He lifted his body up, inviting me to remove his boxers. Tim favors tight T-shirts that show off his musculature and sneakers on his big feet. We worked at a Boston newspaper as factotums, which means we got coffee for the cranky old editors and did their bidding in other ways. He stirred, gasped, looked straight ahead, but said nothing. His loud response signaled me to continue.
