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To chance encounters. I am at Sean and Phong’s apartment, sitting around the living table, each of us in our own chair. Small chats, questions, smiles, to get to know each other. There are half a dozen peace lilies on the floor next to the window, their leaves wavering with the wind from the balcony. On the table, a puddle of condensation is forming around the bottom of our mango smoothie cup. The conversation turns towards massage now. Why I did it, what I wish to accomplish. Phong mentions that he’s been having tight neck and shoulders lately, and I contemplate whether to offer him a massage or not. I hesitate for a moment too long, and the conversation shifts. I think to myself, if nothing happens, we’ll just sit here, talking for ages, so I stand, walk to him, offer him a massage. He smiles broadly. I tell him it’s difficult to massage with his shirt on. It’s off before I can blink. He asks Sean to grab moisturizer as a substitute for oil, and I begin massaging his neck. I tell him it’s better laying down, and before I finish the sentence, he’s up, walking to the bedroom, lying flat on his stomach. He is eager. So I massage him. Sean watches, curious, asking questions. Phong relaxes under my hands, enjoying the physical touch. My fingers follow the curve of his shoulders, the line of his spine. Afterwards, he turns to me, smiles, and we kiss again. Sean joins us. Clothes are off. We’re naked. Rough. Intimate. Sweaty. For the next hour, I am the center of their attention. We move, we laugh, we rest, we drink water. Phong reheats pizza while I stay in their bed, Sean holding me close. Cuddling. Kissing. My head rests on his chest. Silent. Still. It feels really good to hug you, he says. Why? Because you’re comfortable in your own skin. I think about that for a moment, about how far I’ve come on this personal journey. I thank him, warmly, and close my eyes. For a fleeting moment, I feel calm. I feel safe. I feel at peace. I know this moment is temporary, fleeting, fragile. It’s a space we created together, a space that fades when Phong announces dinner, a space tucked away when I’m in the shower, a space yet to be found again when we sit to eat pizza at 9 p.m. on a Saturday night. The TV plays Australian tennis. Outside, cars and trams and people rush by. We talk about how we met, piecing together the night from our own perspectives. And there it is, that feeling again. It sneaks up on me. Hits me, every time. Sadness. They had stayed that night to see the stars. I had returned to see if they were still there. By chance, by luck, by serendipity, we found each other again. The universe must have had its reasons. A clearing of clouds, a night full of stars, all aligned to bring us together. Pawns placed on a chessboard, moving in ways we’ll never fully understand. I am grateful for that night. Grateful for them. Grateful for the stars. Still, I wonder, what’s next? I don’t know the answer to that. I’m not supposed to. Not yet. The peace lilies will grow. The puddle under the mango smoothie will have long since dried. And life will move on— I hope, with all three of us, in the same direction.

Near Home—January, 2024 Braydon, the furry cub I’ve been meeting and breeding at the bookstore, sent me a text, hoping to set up a date for the last few days of January. We talked about his coming to the playroom, but we both really liked his being available to other men while we were playing. We agreed to meet at the bookstore, on Tuesday at 1:30pm. I only mention the time as I went a little earlier to see what was happening. And what was happening was Braydon on his knees, sucking a cute college boy… The young man with a ponytail and glasses is standing against the back wall on the straight side. I move past them and sit in the cocksucker’s seat. I take out my dick and stroke to Braydon’s mouth skills. They are making the young man with the ponytail moan. Ponytail looks over at me. I nod. “Fuck his mouth,” I say softly. The guy grabs Braydon’s ears and does just that. The door opens. A man who stood behind me as I bought me ticket comes in. He is around my age and build. He wears a neck brace. He sees the action, moves behind Braydon and unzips. He is soon stroking a nice seven incher. Neck Brace finally sees me and comes over. I suck his cock. This seems to really excite Ponytail. He pumps into Braydon’s mouth faster and more forcefully. Neck Brace hears something in the hall outside the door. He pulls out of my mouth, shoves his cock back in his pants and takes off. Ponytail makes a move, too. He turns from Braydon and offers me his wet cock. He is not long, but quite thick. I suck him for a few moments. He pulls out, panting, and goes to his knees to taste me. Braydon stands up, never taking his eyes off Ponytail with my cock in his mouth. Braydon undoes his belt and fly. His pants crumple around his ankles. He turns and bends, holding on to the back of the bench in front of us. Ponytail stops sucking and looks at Braydon’s butt. I go to my knees and begin rimming him. Ponytail moves around and sticks his thick dick back in Braydon’s mouth. I rear up and my slick cock penetrates Braydon for the fist time today. He groans around the cock in his mouth, making the groan sound that much hotter. I fuck Braydon at a nice warm up speed. “You want to try his ass?” I ask. At that moment, Ponytail shoots in Braydon’s mouth. As the young man pulls out, Braydon turns. He kisses me, snowballing the load onto my tongue. I drool it out into my palm. “This cum needs to go in your ass.” I coat my dick with it and shove it into Braydon. Ponytail has stopped his clean up and just watches us, a look of sheer lust on his face as he sees his cum being fucked into the hairy hole… * I love the feel of the cum in Braydon’s hole, but I slow down the fuck as the young man leaves. Braydon swings around and cleans my dick. He has me sit down so he can really do it properly. He cleans my cock again, slowly and deliberately. He does the same for my balls, which certainly have some of Ponytail’s cream on them. Just like last time, he lifts my balls out of the way and tongues lower, taking in the sweat and scent of the very heart of me. He comes up for air, then does it all again. Eventually, we move to the gay theatre to see if there is anyone there. There isn’t. I have him drop his pants and I fuck him again. Hard and fast. I pull out and move to a chair. I unbuckle my pants and push them down to my ankles. “Taste yourself on my cock.” Braydon in on his knees, licking and swallowing me down. Now he has easier access to get under my balls. He spends a lot of time there. Once again, his tongue almost grazes my asshole, but not quite. He comes up for a breather. “I don’t know why your scent turns me on so. Love it.” “I love that you love it.” He talks a little about doing new things—and being turned on my someone’s smell and taste is new to him. I tell him I love his tongue all over me. We fuck once more. I sit back down and I don’t have to ask him to come lick me. He is all over my cock and my balls. He snakes down my perineum and this time his tongue hits my tight pucker. And stays there. He breathes deep…and begins to rim me for the very first time. I don’t know if he has done this with other men and I don’t care. But if not, he is a natural. He worships my ass. He can’t stop licking me. I encourage him to spit on my hole and lick that up, too. He loves that—and does it again and again, with no prompting. I am stroking with my eyes closed, letting his tongue wander all over me…Suddenly I open them. “I need to fuck you.” In a flash he is kneeling on the chair, his full, hairy ass arched beautifully. I dig in with tongue, returning the favor. I can still just taste the load from Ponytail. I spit it back into his hole. I stand up and slide in. Braydon gasps. My cock is rampant. I fuck him. My hips slapping his upturned ass. And I am there. I blast into him, spurt after spurt. I bend, holding onto his sweaty butt. I stay there for a long time. When I know my dick can stand it, I pull out and let him clean the mixed loads off my drooling cock… The original is here: From My Side of the Sling: Braydon Explores Me...with His Tongue February 13, 2024

To mementos that we collect along the way. I am parked outside of Sean and Phong’s apartment. I was confident on the drive here, in my resolve, in my decision to come. But now, now I am nervous for some reason. A part of me wants to chicken out, to turn the key, to drive back home, to where it’s safe, to where it’s quiet. But I’ve been looking forward to seeing them all week, so I muster the strength, send Sean a text: I’m here. I think I am nervous because I don’t know how we’ll connect— the three of us— since we’ve never really spoken, not in any real sense. It could go either way, I suppose. Sean appears, walking toward my car, his smile warm, his presence grounding. He gets in, and we kiss. Immediately. Intimately. Gently. I feel at ease, and I realize just how much I miss his kiss. His hand finds mine, and we hold each other there, and I’m confused. Isn’t this what lovers do? And Sean is in a relationship. But I don’t overthink, not now. I let the moment be what it is. I take everything in, I enjoy this, I enjoy us. After a while, he directs me to the carpark, and we take the elevator to his floor. Phong isn’t home yet. It’s just Sean and me, the two of us in his apartment. We kiss again, for a long while, before breaking for mango smoothies in the living room. His space is crowded, cluttered, filled with hundreds of things. My attention drifts to the shelves behind me, rows upon rows of monuments and knickknacks. Dozens of tiny souvenirs from across the world. Their travels, history, displayed for anyone to see. When Phong arrives, I walk up to greet him. We kiss. Sean joins, and now all three of us are there, standing, kissing, holding each other. It feels nice. Then we separate, settle into our own chairs, and start talking, small at first, easing into the night. At one point, I feel it. Sadness. A pang, sharp and sudden. I don’t understand it then, not until later, when I’m at home, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Twelve years. They’ve been together for twelve years. That explains the full shelves. That explains the weight in the air. That explains the pang. I think part of my sadness is knowing that they already have a history, a rich, full history, and I don’t know what my part is in their story now. Am I just a supporting character, just a footnote? Am I just here to fulfill a need, a physical desire? It reminds me of what I want, what I’m searching for. A relationship like theirs. Something deep. Something lasting. Something that spans a decade, two, more. And yet, I wonder— can their bond leave room for me? can I carve out a space for myself in their lives? Sean feels different. With Sean, there’s spiritual, emotional, and something that goes beyond the physical. But with Phong? With Phong, it’s just physical, surface-level, fleeting. And I see the balance Sean is trying to maintain, the delicate balance between loving, caring, being with Phong, and connecting with me. But I know, deep down, Phong comes first. Always. There’s a ceiling here, an emotional limit, and when I hit it, when I reach that point, I’ll have to decide—do I keep going? Do I let myself fall? Because falling for someone who can’t catch you— falling for someone who can only care for you as a friend— never ends well. So I think about my future, about what I need, about what I want. Emotional connection, that’s it. That’s the key. Physical attraction matters, yes, but without that emotional depth, it’s just not enough. It’s rare to find both. Rare to see a perfect blend of physical and intellectual. But it’s not impossible. And that’s what I’m searching for. That’s what I’ll strive for. Over the next twelve months, I’ll put myself out there, I’ll connect with people, I’ll open myself up to the possibility of something real, something lasting, something worth holding onto. What an adventure it will be.