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If you are underage, or in any way forbidden by your government or religious laws from viewing X-rated subject matter, please do not read this salty tale. If, however, you are not restricted by any laws in your geographical location, by all means read on.

(A True Tale From The Castro. Eat your heart out, Armistead!)

by Ezekiel J. Krahlin

It's like Goddess is dropping somnolent angels from the clouds and onto the streets of the Castro. I have met many a kind and handsome man this way, and wonder what the fuk is wrong with their families, who think it is righteous victory to kick their own children onto the streets simply because they are gay.

Yet had this never happened I'd never have the great honor of befriending these darling waifs, and sometimes resting overnight in their arms. (Not to mention back rubs, chest licking, boner dueling, kok sucking and sometimes even boning the daylights out of 'em.) I know I sound perverted, but honesty is the best policy...except if you're queer and exist in a homophobic reality.

Do not think for a moment I get a hard-on for just any yummy dude. Only if they also possess a sweet nature and a robust sense of humor, would I ever consider yanking their dungarees down to the calves and diving face-first into that luxurient crotch wilderness with a passion beyond rational behavior. They are (to be blunt) my saviors from a dreary and wicked heterocentric hell. In light of the wonderfully sexy, kind-hearted fellows I've recently laid and played with, I'll take a moment now to say:

"You are more to me than a piece of prime beef. Much more. And I thank you dudes a zillion times over for blessing me with incredible male bonding, and a brotherly compassion that knits the entire universe together for me, into one big ball of waxy semen! Some (or even most) of you may not grasp what intense appreciation I hold for your company...due to youthful folly, unresolved trauma from dysfunctional parents, repression of total homosexual love by a breeder-terrorist nation, or fear of being brutally bashed by the majority hetero homeless who rule the roost even here in the Castro...and I guess in all other quasi-gay-friendly enclaves that have blossomed in major cities across these Disunited States of Amerika. But now, let me get back to the hot item at hand."

This boy, this man-boy lying on the sidewalk to garner precious sleep, looks like a sterling gentleman in every way. Therefore I shall seek him out and see what his needs are. I certainly know my needs, so let us just say they sprout from the prostate and course through my veins of homosexual lust that I hope will never be vanquished by old age or stress. Alcohol, however, is permissable, as it allows me (up to a point) to maintain a stiff wanger for hours, that I may slide my kok in and out of one of two orifices for hours on end.

This is the confession of a true warrior of Gay Liberation who feels at this point in his advanced life, that he deserves the very best man-meat in the universe for all his dedicated activism. Try to kill me if you can, but I assure you: I am at least two steps ahead of your demonic, hetero-supremacist bull shit.

- Zeke Krahlin

PS: Never mind, I already got my handsome buck Mikey to keep me out of trouble. 2/3 nights per week of bedtime bliss. And a good friendship to boot.