Vintage Pulp and Original Gay Erotica
FOREWORD
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“The fucking hell you do.”
“Don’t argue with me, punk.”
“Punk!?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t think so, old man. I thought I heard you call me ‘punk’, but I know you’re not that stupid or senile.”
“You’re a punk, and worse than that, you’re a smart-ass punk.”
“Yeah… well, this is one smart-ass punk you owe a lot to, old man.”
“I ain’t all that old.”
“You want to bet?”
“I ain’t so old I can’t get it up.”
“Let’s see.”
“Just look.”
“Oh. Yeah. So it is. So it is.”
“What I want to know, punk… are you old enough to know what to do with it?”
“You asking ME a question like that?” the boy asked, incredulous.
“If you’ve got an answer, don’t waste my time talking about it. Show me.” And that’s what he did.
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