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THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICT HOMOSEXUAL SEXUAL INTERCOURSE. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU DO NOT LIKE HOMOEROTICA.
Enrico Maxwell's breath shuddered in pleasure as a strong sturdy hand stroked its way down his back. Whoever this stranger was, they sure knew how to effectively pleasure him. "Oh… who is this?" muttered Maxwell, half believing that he was dreaming. His eyes snapped open, only to see the inky darkness of the room. "Damn it…. It was only a dream…" he said drowsily to himself. He quickly fell back asleep, disappointed.
30 June, 1998 Last night was a very strange night. I self-admittedly had a so-called 'erotic' dream. It sickens me to think that I could partake in such carnal thoughts, but again, for the third night in a row, I succumbed to it. The dream felt so real- a strong, sturdy hand stroked from my upper back down towards my buttocks. When I usually sleep, I don't wear anything but my undergarments; sometimes not even that. Last night, I didn't wear anything at all. It was quite a warm, humid night. Oddly enough, in my dream, I could actually feel the temperature, the heat, the humidity… the sensation of a strong man's hand coming in contact with my skin. My heart rate increased, it seemed all too real for a dream. Then again, I'm sure there has been many people who have had dreams such as this one. What is most concerning, however, is the fact that I'm starting to doubt everything I ever thought I was. I always believed to be asexual. Therese past few months I've been beginning to feel sexual attraction. Even more unsettling is the fact that I've been felling these feelings towards… men. Men. This is so hard to write down. It took me 10 minutes to write down that one, simple sentence. I've been in denial for years, forcing all my will to simply forget these homoerotic thoughts. I am afraid. So very afraid. I do not want be a gay man. I do not want to live my entire life in a lie. Neither do I want to relinquish the vast amounts of power and influence I have gained over the years. I made a promise to myself, years ago: That I would be great. But it seems to me that my very own self is trying to prevent my goal from being fulfilled. -Enrico Maxwell