My previous post gave readers a look at a short story that appeared in an anthology published by the Cleis Press. This month, I’d like to offer a glimpse of another short piece called DEER that appeared in another Cleis anthology published in 2012 called STRAIGHT GUYS. This book was put together by Shane Allison, an experienced editor who has bought several of my pieces. Thanks, Shane. The following will introduce you to a guy named John Deer.
I’ve fucked more straight guys than any queer I know. I’ve also had more fights than most. The ultimate high is to get a straight arrow after I whip his ass. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not into rape. I don’t rape; I haven’t raped; I will never rape. But I’ve fucked Egyptians, Europeans, Thais, Chinese, Filipinos, Mexicans, Argentines, and I don’t know how many others. And shit! I’m only thirty.
My name is Byron Ryer, although no one ever calls me Byron more than once. Byron was some fucking poet, and a poet, I’m not! I’m Ryer or or Master Sergeant Ryer, but mostly just
Rye. Oklahoma nurtured me through my late teens, molding my character for better or worse. In my part of the state bibles weren’t exactly thumped, but they were consulted frequently, and being of the homosexual persuasion necessarily transformed me from a mama’s boy into a quasi-bully in a few short years. I came to terms with the fact I was queer at sixteen when a couple of local guys held me down while another fucked my ass. It came as a shock to realize I sort of liked it except that they forced me. I wasn’t real big in those days, but I was tough and got to those guys one by one over the next year. Didn’t rape them either. That’s when I discovered that being the fuckor was preferable to being the fuckee!
I was built and better looking than most guys and a little too obsessed with guy’s asses, so figuring the military might put some discipline in my life, I joined up right out of high school. Man, was I wrong! I got more male butt in the Air Force than on the outside, and when they put me through Special Operations Training, they made me damned near invincible. The Air Force sent me all over the world in search of new stuff. Never found a continent or a country without a good-looking stud willing to fuck.
He wasn’t the best, but the one I cherished the most was a French Lieutenant bound and determined to ram his cock up my ass. The handsome Frog turned into a kitten chasing catnip when I flipped the tables on him. First, I fucked his mouth, and when he begged for more, I reamed his ass. When they put me in a super-secret outfit, things got even better because I was often on assignment alone or as a part of a small team. You’ve never even heard of some of the places where I bedded…and killed guys.
At the end of my third tour, the powers that be saw fit to send me on attachment to a Nuclear Bomb Storage outfit at Kirtland Air Force Base at
where I became a fucking policeman. All that special training and I was nothing more than a glorified military security cop! I took personal inventory and decided that the reason I joined the military was the reason I probably should get out. But when push came to shove, I couldn’t do it. What was my problem, anyway? I’d just made Master Sergeant after twelve years, when it took most guys fifteen or better to do it. The duty wasn’t all that bad even if my deployment was at the edge of a mountain in the middle of a fucking desert. So I hunkered down and made the best of it…something I was damned good at. I could create a personal nest damned near anywhere. Albuquerque, New Mexico
And when Airman John Deer appeared on my radar, I knew things would be all right. I had a personal project again. With a name like John Deer, you’d expect him to be built like a tractor, right? Well, he isn’t. He’s got the fine, taut muscles of a young stag trembling with nervous energy and indecision between fight or flight. John was assigned to the flight’s mailroom and took some classes in the local community college. He was bright and eager to learn, and I sure was willing to teach him!
Not only that, he was the most handsome young man I’ve ever seen. The Egyptian was the most beautiful, as comely as any woman. The Thai was the most exotic, but he thought he was a woman, which was a turn-off. But John Deer, a pureblood American Indian of about twenty years, was the handsomest man of any race, religion, or creed I’d ever seen. He called to mind the Spanish word guapo, which means not only handsome but sexy. John was a changeling, different from day to day. One morning his thick black hair glistened like onyx; the next, it absorbed the sun’s brightest rays like some mysterious black hole in the void. On a Monday, he had a wild and rough look, but by Wednesday, he was neat and groomed.
Well, I hope that whetted the appetite and left you lusting for more. If you’d like to read the entire story, locate a copy of STRAIGHT GUYS, ISBN: 1-57344-816-1 or 978-1-57344-830-7 for the Ebook.
Thanks for visiting. As usual, I’m eager for your comments and suggestions.
New posts are published at 6:00 a.m. on the first of every month.