Christy Dancing

Excerpt

So here Theo was at Fire Island Pines, watching the loveliest bunch of gay guys and gals he could imagine, even movie stars like Glenn Trant. Maybe some of the other ones were famous too—artists, dancers, anything. Even that short guy over there all by himself might be a famous something or other. Not a bad-looking fellow and showing quite a nice hunk of stuff in those faded ol’ Levi’s. Some of these guys out here really flaunted their nice fat dicks, not just the exhibition pieces like Glenn who everybody had paid to see show his huge hard-on in the movies but other nice young guys as well as the older ones.

Funny, with all this stuff coming at you, the only one that really got Theo’s bowels in an uproar was the Boatboy.

Oh, what a doll, not pretty or handsome or like that but, oh, what a beauty. And Theo hadn’t even got a chance to eyeball his crotch but loved him anyway. Why was it—go in a bar full of gorgeous queans, it was one of the bartenders who appealed to Theo. In a movie-house six faggots offering themselves in the can and he wanted one of the ushers. Go out to dinner, a waiter. Maybe it was because they were real people, people who worked, not phonies posing, trying to look interesting and glamorous, in love with themselves.

Whatever it was, that Boatboy was a dream. Maybe only nineteen—too damned young.