Before the advent of the Internet, men looking to make sexual contact with other men would cruise rest stops, shopping malls, and parks. There they often left messages on the walls of restrooms hoping to meet someone of like interest.Alan Daniels, a young Vietnam veteran, has recently been questioning his sexuality. He takes a chance and writes a note in the john of his local municipal park.
Handsome, sensual Tom Clarkson, a college student going to school mainly to avoid the draft, is intrigued by a new message he finds in the park bathroom.
Is Tom destined to spend another night indulging in meaningless sex, or could the note lead to something more? Only one way to find out ...
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EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.
He was just about to leave the restroom when another message next to the mirror caught his attention.
Hey guy from the overlook yesterday. Can you meet me here tonight? 7:30?
Tom stared at the note and then read it again.
“Shit!”
* * * *
Sitting atop his usual table in the park, Tom was frustrated. Ten to eight, he fumed in his mind. Fuck, I rearrange my whole fuckin’ day for this guy and he doesn’t show.
Tom had met John that morning. The man had been horny and hot to trot. They had gone back to the motel. Even though John had sucked Tom’s pecs, usually a big turn on, Tom had been totally distracted by the prospect of seeing the overlook guy again. He knew he hadn’t showed John the best time but hadn’t given a shit. He’d perfunctorily took care of business, giving John a quick fuck and getting him off with a half-hearted blow job. Tom knew John was pissed at him, but Tom knew he wouldn’t see him again anyway so it didn’t matter. Once was Tom’s usual M.O., twice was pretty damn rare and a third round was unheard of.
Tom had called his boss at the bakery and told him he had a cold. That was a sure-fire way to get out of work. The old guy was really paranoid about getting germs on his precious buns and loaves of bread. He told Tom to take good care of himself and not to come back to work until it was completely cleared up. Tom couldn’t afford to miss too much work so he’d tell the old man he had allergies and it had turned out not to be a cold after all.
Tom had probably failed his political science test. What the hell was it about this guy? he’d asked himself, that he could upset Tom Clarkson’s plans. When sexy Professor Barry had said time was up, Tom hadn’t even finished the last question as he found himself staring out the window thinking about the overlook guy’s sweet smile and tight, sensual ass.
Tom checked his watch again. I even pass up two hot tricks here tonight for the bastard. Two very handsome hunks had approached Tom and suggested they’d really be up for including him in a three-way. God damn! Why did I pass that up?
“Screw this,” Tom said, getting up. Maybe I can find those two guys and get in on that action so the day won’t be a total bust.
As he turned to head for the path into the woods, Tom saw a red Mustang pull slowly into the parking lot. He waited. If this was overlook guy he’d let him know that you didn’t fool around with Tom Clarkson if you want to get it on with him. The car door opened and the man he’d been waiting for tentatively emerged. Tom stood with his hands on his hips getting ready to give the guy a piece of his mind.
The man approached. “Hi. I’m really sorry I’m late. I had to work overtime and ...”
Tom opened his mouth to let him have it, but what came out surprised him. “That’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”
Who the fuck said that? Tom thought as he looked into the soft warm brown eyes staring into his. He felt his dick twitch and some other sensation that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time stole over him.
“I’m Alan Daniels,” the man said and offered his hand.
“My name’s Tom,” Tom said and then realized he had, for the first time in a long while, given his name to someone with whom he planned to have sex. But somehow that didn’t seem to matter. He took Alan’s hand and enjoyed the feelings the first physical contact engendered.
“Let’s go,” he said, still holding onto Alan’s hand and turning to head for the path into the woods.
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