|A masculine role model|
But with this guy, he wanted to do the possessing, to ride him till they both climaxed, to have him, to fuck him silly. Was it because he was thinking of this man as a woman? He was embarrassed by this politically incorrect sentiment. Was he some kind of 1950s troglodyte, unable to set aside the outdated and incorrect cultural patterns of that homophobic era? Was he deep down no different to the squeaky-clean pastors threatening homos with fire and brimstone while secretly lusting after the altar-boys? A little ashamed, he turned to the other man, and said, “My name's Jason.”
The other gave him a sudden smile, accomplished but rather endearing anyway, and took another drag on his cigarette before saying, “Luigi.”
Jason smiled back at him, his shyness fading. His frank was as hard as ever.
“You want to come to my place?” asked Luigi, his whole bearing intimate and appealing.
Jason swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Jeez, it was almost as if this really was his first time. He nodded, unable to speak. Without being aware of it, he put a more masculine swagger into his step as they walked from the park.