Dec 5, 2016

A Ginger Boy for Christmas

Wednesday, December 24, 1986:

I'm 26 years old. living in West Hollywood, but back in Rock Island for the holidays, staying in my old room.  At 6:00 pm my brother and his family and my sister's boyfriend arrive for our traditional Christmas Eve pizza and present unwrapping.

At 9:00 Fred picks me up.  He's 34, tall, athletic, with a stern, rugged face, a smooth chest, and impressive beneath-the-belt gifts.

When we met, he was student clergy.  When he got a church assignment, he talked me into moving to Omaha with him.  I lasted for a miserable month.  Now he's working as a mental health counselor in Kansas City. He's  home for the holidays, staying in his old room at his parents' farmhouse, about 30 miles south of Rock Island.

We're going to spend the night together, and then have the traditional Christmas morning breakfast and present-unwrapping at his house.

"I told my parents you might have a friend with you," Fred tells me.  "I didn't know if you were bringing Raul home from West Hollywood."

"We broke up a couple of weeks ago, so I'm single again.  I just met [My Celebrity Boyfriend], but we haven't arranged a date yet."

"Who knows?  You might make a friend tonight!"

"I'd rather have you to myself.  We haven't seen each other since last Christmas."  We may be broken up, but Fred is enormously attractive, and I'm feeling especially vulnerable after my breakup.

"So we'll share.  That's all the rage in West Hollywood, right?"

The rest of the story contains nude photos and explicit sexual situations.  You can read it on Tales of West Hollywood

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