I hadn’t broken him. Gay porn . He was probably about my age, looking at fifty in a couple of years. He was a handsome, trim young man. We were jostled by a couple of women trying to get past us to where they were selling books at the back of the room and I reached out and took Clay’s forearm in mine to steady us both. I’m Ross Gould.”“Well, Ross Gould, I’m staying here at the Sheraton. He opened and stretched with difficulty, but he was a trooper. “He knows what he has to do to get what he wants.” I didn’t pursue that further. I looked around the room to see if I could see Daddy. Would he, or wouldn’t he?He did.“Will you be in later tonight, say at 10:00?” he asked.“Yes, I will.”“What room?”I told him. I like your themes of getting it where and when you can.”“You believe that as well too?” I asked. “Are you at the book festival for much longer?”“I have a program on the last day, so, yes, I’m here for the duration. He wanted it and he got it.He especially liked what I call the Flying Dutchman—him stretched out, face down, his torso extended beyond the foot of the bed, and me mounted on
