I'm really excited about the next PAX, Ooh to be back in the 1960s! That turbulent decade was such a powerful turning point in the lives of those who lived it, especially if it came at that impressionable time in their lives, catching them in the middle teens to late twenties. The events and social changes of the times probably marked the rest of their lives. I can't wait to get the other four stories in this collection!
I really tried to capture some of this angst, mystique and atmosphere in Midnight Cowboys. I am pretty sure that Riki and Jerry both became different men than they might have been without the experiences they had which I laid out in the story. As with all of my tales, the main characters became very real to me and I truly had a sense that they were dictating their story to me and I simply took it down and maybe played with the words a little bit as I did so.
Here is one more excerpt, a pretty hot one. They've been to a party and both are somewhat drunk and also high, Jerry on pot and Riki on coke.
Once back on campus, they staggered up the three flights of stairs, leaning on each other’s dubious support.
“I…hate…these…fucking…stairs.” Riki ground out the words between breaths. The mixture of coke and beer seemed to have depleted his natural energy. “Ain’t no stairs at Tolbert’s place. We need ta move.”
“Maybe,” Jerry replied. “I gotta think on it with a clear head.”
They stumbled into their room, and Jerry kicked the door shut behind them. Riki looked around, disgust on his face. “Ah, fuck it. I’m horny. No way can I do those steps again, though. If I could, I’d go back to the Panther or somewhere…”
“So’m I,” Jerry admitted. “Horny, I mean.” Then he surprised himself with his next words. “We can do something about it right here if you want.” They were still standing close, Riki’s arm across Jerry’s shoulders and Jerry’s around Riki’s waist.
Riki stared at Jerry, struggling to focus his eyes. “Say what? I mean us, you and me?”
Jerry shrugged, not quite comfortable now that it had been said when they were still so close. “Well, we could. Shit, if I could suck that fat, stinking, old oil man, I guess I could do you.”
Riki laughed. “Oh yeah, there’s that, huh? I don’t think I stink, but I’m about as drunk as he was. Won’t pass out, though, not yet. Okay, I’m game if you are.” He pulled away far enough to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper on his jeans. Pushing them down off his hips, along with his shorts, he flopped back onto a chair. “’N if I don’t pass out, I’ll do you after.”
Put up or shut up, Hoffman. Jerry dropped to his knees in front of Riki. Even if he’d seen his friend nude the other night at the hotel, this was different. Riki’s cock stood up stiff, almost brushing his lower belly. It was dark with blood, twitching with each heartbeat.
When Jerry wrapped his hand around it, the strangeness didn’t hit him as it had with the oil man. The scent he inhaled, though musky and male, was not offensive. He stroked a couple of times, experimentally, getting the spirit of it.