In a time long, long ago, in a town whose name is lost due to the bypass, when you got around on bicycles and hung out at the fishing hole, in that time, when summer seemed to never end, in that town, I had a friend whose father owned a bookstore. It was where you went to get the books you had to read for school. You bought the books because if you took them from the library his family didn't have a way to live. It was that kind of town.

In the bookstore, up in the second story where the inventory was kept, there were some old boxes. And in those old boxes were some magazines. And in those magazines were men in black and white posing, with little ling cloths on, there were men who were posing like Greek statues with their penis showing, there were men who sat beside the pool with their penis out. We would sneak up there and look at those magazines. We weren't supposed to know about those boxes, they were hidden away behind a whole lot of other boxes. That is where we would go and our penis would get hard. That is where we would go and when our penis was hard we would touch each other.

There were these magazines in foreign languages, with broken backs and pages torn out, black and white picture of men holding each other's penis, of men sucking penis, of men on their hands and knees and other men behind them. It was with these foreign language magazines, with men sucking men, that we got a hard penis and we would suck each other.

But that was a long, long time ago. The small town is now just a part of the city that moved out and took it over. The old people like us know why the area is called what it is, that was the name of our town. Now it is where the new houses are being built and the new families are moving. But before that the town died and when it was time to go get a job we had to leave.

My friend who I would masturbate with, suck his penis, jack off, and spend hours going through magazines in languages we could not read, my friend whose penis I loved to suck, that friend gave me one of those magazines to take home with me and put under my mattress and look at the pictures of a man having his penis sucked by a man with a mustache. I still have that magazine. It is one of my favorite possessions and I still get a charge out of that long ago man who had a huge penis and a man with a mustache had his hand around his shaft and his mouth around the head of his penis. That is what I like to do. I always saw myself as the man with the mustache, not the man with the penis.

My luck was that I went to bookkeeping school. At that time most of the guys went to work in industry at the plants, I went to bookkeeping school because I wasn't the type to work at the plant. My teacher at bookkeeping school was an Italian man, and he liked to have his penis sucked and I liked to suck his penis and I passed and got my certificate. I learned over time to be a good bookkeeper, but when I got my certificate I was pretty useless. I have fond memories of my Italian teacher, he was the first real man who I sucked. He is also the first man to take a turn at getting behind me and helping me cross the last barrier to being a full blown queer. My friend from school, the boy with the magazines, he stopped short of getting fucked. He didn't get fucked until many years later, to see what it was like.

My Italian teacher got me a job working for the bank. At the bank I was put in a training class and that is where I learned how to be a bookkeeper. My Italian teacher had a friend at the bank and he told him about me, and he liked to fuck and I liked to fuck, so we got along fine and I got promoted and was put in charge of the books for the bank. The banker and I became lovers, true lovers, sleeping together lovers, kissing and hugging lovers, making dinner together lovers, buying gifts for each other lovers. He was my first real love affair. Our love affair lasted for many long years.

After my lover died, he was much older than me, I spent a lot of time depressed. A friend of mine, who I knew from my job at the bank, suggested that I take a tour, a tour of Italy. He suggested I go, to see the statues in real life, those statues of boys with penises. He knew that I like pictures of penises, and he sent me to Italy to go look at those statues, stand under them and imagine those penises in my mouth, like those pictures of Roman nobles with boys dropping gr**es in their mouths, which he and I concluded were really symbolic for a penis. In the end my friend and I went on the tour. A couple of gay guys, who both liked the same thing, but in all our years of knowing each other we never liked each other, not for that.

After we got back he got me back into circulation. I had several lovers, short term stuff, until I met the man I am with now, John. John is a stylist. He studied Mechanical Engineering at Cal Tech. He is a man with a large libido and I am a man with need for man with large libido. Sure it is a sex thing right now, but John and I have a lot more in common. He likes to stand over me and pretend he is feeding me gr**es. He liked the story I told him of my trip to Italy. I love having his penis delivered to me that way.