Plunging Into The Pool

Plunging Into The Pool What if you gave in to desires you had never dared to confess?   This genre-defying blend of personal memoir and steamy erotic fiction reveals my answer.    I thought John was safely confined to the realm of my secret fantasies,  but his  reappearance rekindled smoldering desires that had never been fully extinguished. Drinks after work led to a subtly flirtatious dinner, tensions increased when we met again, and I realized I would be unable to resist if he would only make the right move. Would he satisfy the longings I had thought could never be fulfilled? If we took the Plunge Into The Pool, the release of pent up desire would surely be so forceful  as to result in an encounter that, when described in explicit detail,  would definitely not be appropriate for readers under 18.    Mark and John hadn’t seen each other since high school, but John’s return after 24 years leads to an encounter unlike anything either of them had ev

My phone rang. “Hello, this is Mark,” I answered. “Mark!  I can’t believe I tracked you down!”  The voice at the other end of the line sounded surprised, and also vaguely familiar to me. “You did!”  I said tentatively, but with some enthusiasm encouraged by the friendly tone of the voice. “You don’t know who this is, do you?” “No …,” I answered.  But now I was sure I knew who this person was.  I just couldn’t place the voice.  I didn’t mind the interruption; it was a quiet day at work, on a lazy August afternoon, and I couldn’t help feeling a little curious. “It’s me, John,” he said. “John… John,” I thought to myself furiously.  I know and have known a lot of men named John.  Which one was this? Fortunately, it seemed he was sympathetic to my predicament.  “From high school,” he volunteered. “Oh, John ,” I said, emphasizing his name, as if that actually meant anything.  Then I paused.  “Wow … John.  It’s bee

In high school, John and I were two of the guys who hung out in my friend Gary’s basement and smoked dope.  On weekends, we varied the scene by first smoking dope in Gary’s basement and then going to one of the high school parties someone was always having.  When we got to those parties we didn’t mingle or pick up girls.  We didn’t know how.  Instead, we lingered on the fringes and listened to music and giggled like stoners do. When we weren’t smoking dope or going to parties (which used to be the case more often back in 9th or 10th grade but was becoming more rare as time went by) we did guy stuff, like playing Dungeons & Dragons or playing cards or doing crazy things in Gary’s back yard.  But we also flirted (badly) with Gary’s sister, who was about 10 years older and, looking back on it, infinitely patient with us.  And we looked at “men’s” magazines – Playboy and Hustler and sleazier mags like Swank . But I wasn’t your typical stoner.  I was also a “brain” w