We were both in a gay bookstore, the Bookshop Darlinghurst. I sell them for others to record. Gay porn not that that mattered here because I knew this was a one-afternoon stand and he hadn’t come on to me in that way.I took another drag from the joint and shared it with him in a kiss, while my other hand glided down his smooth, boyish chest, the fingers dragging across the silver ring in his navel and his closely trimmed pubes as he shuddered when I grasped his cock and slow stroked him.“Fuck me again,” he murmured as we came out of the kiss.“Liked that, did you?” I asked, still struggling over whether I could do this top thing convincingly.“Loved it, stud. There may be no later. It’s–”“The title pretty much reveals it, if you knew the photographer–Steven Saxon. Gotta go to work. As melting as Etienne had been as a lover, missing those articles of clothing was what I remembered about him the most.The busker was wearing them. I got the sense, though, that he was singing just to me now. There were differences. I mumbled something to him, he tipped his hat and started to say something, but I turned and walked away.The music started again in my wake. His faced
