The Public Glare

The Public Glare

the woman

glared at me

as she sat opposite me

on the subway

as she glared

she tucked her skirt

tighter around her knees


I suppose

to prevent my glance

from burrowing

to catch glimpse

of the gates of heaven 

between her legs


if she hadn’t glared

I would have been oblivious

I wasn’t looking at her

but at the man

who stepped aside

to let her sit


the pillar of heaven

between his legs

was captivatingly

at both our eye levels

I looked down at my e.reader


every time I glanced up

to the pillar of heaven

her glare accused me

of invading her privacy 

I never go on public transit without something to read, not that I am addicted to reading but it gives my eyes something to look at beside the people around me. When its too crowded I try to focus on the shoulder of someone a few bodies from mine. I know enough about people shoes already 🙂 

Surrendering our person space is, for many, an uncomfortable sacrifice for transit. One way I try to respect that is by only seeing enough not to walk into or over people. But sometimes eyes catch. I look away before it becomes a challenge & that usually works, unless, as in this moment we end up facing each other. It did make me wonder why some people wear what they do – like the time a woman with major cleavage stood directly in front me – it was too crowed for several stops to actually get up & I would hav had to hold my e.reader at eye level to avoid the valley in front of me.

I am aware of how many men look at women – I’ve seen teenage girls pass some men on the street & the men’s eyes follow them, almost hopefully. Once when such groups passed each the men actually stopped after a few steps to turn around & watch the girls walking. Were the women aware of this? Did they care? It’s no wonder women often don’t feel safe in public.

I remember one time, I have piece about this somewhere, getting on the subway & the only other person getting on was a woman. I got off a toys top & she was getting off there, from a different exit door. It was if I was following her. Outside we were walking in the same direction, she glanced back nervously, & we were about to turn up the same street, so I opted not to turn & went half-a-block in the wrong direct before turning back to get to my house.

Rarely is there a ‘pillar’ though to sooth my troubled vision, lol. 

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Behind Closed Curtains

Behind Closed Curtains

he asked me

to close the curtains

before he would drop his pants


I only close the curtains

to daytime sun

to too much light

never to the eyes of others 

we’re on the 2nd story of my house

you can’t see in from the ground

from across street

not even from the 2nd story
of the house across the street

not that I’ve tried to look

at my house from their vantage point

I certainly can see nothing

when I look across to theirs

everyone has blinds




there no one in their houses

I’d care to glimpse

taking off clothes

making out


I only close the blinds

to direct sun

I keep them open most of the time

if anyone can see in

they have to be working at it

if they are working at it

they are welcome to see me

dry my balls after a shower

so why worry

at this distance

with this light

they can’t see us



This piece, like all the Rules prompted pieces, is a couple of years old now. It is based on a real life event in which a FWB was paranoid that people would see us & my reassurances didn’t help. I turned the lights down – even if people could see in our bodies would be too dimly lit to see clearly.

When I was a drunk, darkness was vital to me. I know in one apartment I ended up covering my bedroom window with a blanket so that there wasn’t even a bleed of light. I had a towel I would often roll up to put at the bottom of the bedroom door. I slept in the pitch dark. I don’t really know when all that changed.

I wonder if voyeurs have a fear of being watched? Because we have become a culture of fairly shameless ‘look at me’ with Facebook, youtube, instagram, TikTok, Fans Only & more. We like to look & at the same time like to control what gets seen. Admonishing same-sex couples for daring to hold hands where innocent, unsullied, children might see them.

I recently watched, out of curiosity, Big Brother – Celebrity Edition. A show where the contestants spend 24 hours a day with cameras on them – there is live feed somewhere on line if you have to see what happens when it isn’t being aired on TV. The only place there isn’t a camera, not even night vision, is the toilet. Or perhaps that is on Fans Only. The show is, apparently, immensely popular & I’m sure it is mainly because people like to look. There are unofficial sites devoted to Big Brother Boobs (breasts) & one to Big Bother Packages (for people who need to know who is cut or uncut).

At least my FWB doesn’t insist we do it in pitch dark 🙂

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Summer Striptease

Our Lady of the Striptease





becomes an angel by intimation

an angle of departure



call on her 

at random

when the answer

needs to be atomized




breaking chains




the unpiecing of form

the distortion of winter

the glare of silk




in the dressing room

she flounces once

in the golding mirror

washes past shadows

for a new wrinkle

to offer her lurching toys


each ruffle in place

nipples rouged ready

pasties perk sparkling 

before she climbs the stairs

mounts the stage


runs quick hands 

over her waist down

soothe fingers on rhinestones

tests the outline of a dream

plunged into a startling spotlight




our lady

steps on stage


the curtain opens

a lace dream vista

behind her

kaboom kaboom

golden ropes

brass chains

silver buckles 

shish kaboom


gold gloves peeled

ta ta ta ta booma

pink panties drop


the sagging grind

of hips breasts

ta kaboom boomba

held up  out



by her own hands

shish kaboom




our lady

the form of a woman


holds warmth

constructs life

wishbone purity


her fingers



come hither

sleepy shoulder 

turns cold

at the wrong rush

of worried air



thick with mystery 

the night’s chocolate 

in torn across beds

tumbled searched under

in the look for

the afternoon caress

of roses

brushing one another

as they follow

the sun


our lady


alone at midnight 


silent between unsweetened sheets

our lady

listen to me call

answer me

answer me





brushes her hair


outside her window

my legs ache

from standing


for so long

untangles her hair

used a black comb

powders her shoulders

her cold white back

arches her leg

scratches her belly

my legs ache



dims another light

opens the curtain

a lace wider


the bedroom tango

alone at midnight 

slides secretly

between unsearched sheets






the idea of touch

loses contact

the secret caress


passes as a mist



aching legs

plow home

through the snow

through the clouds

an angel sings

answer me

answer me



This version of Our Lady is from 1976. It went through several revisions before this one was considered done, the writing of it may go back to 1974. The one change I made in 2021, beside proof reading, was to move one section to improve flow. It did come to me as a whole piece starting with that title, which is a sardonic play on Catholic reverence – ‘Our Lady’ almost being the same as Saint. There’s also an echo of The Lady of the Lake. Here Striptease is elevated to a sacred art form.

Here, too, is my structural reliance on numbered sections, a lesson learned from T.S. Elliot. I thought it made my poetry look more serious on the page. Section 3 features my interest in sound poetry ‘kaboom kaboom’ as I give Our Lady a drummer for her number. In other pieces I explore this use of sound even further. I don’t think I’ve ever performed this one so I don’t know how the sounds sound 🙂

There is almost a story line as Our Lady prepares, then goes on stage, performs, then relaxes after & goes to bed. We are the audience for this show & the tip-toe observer literally turns the reader from audience into a secret voyeur. The point of view shifts subtly through out the poem from the ‘I’ to the omniscient poet’s eye that decides her toys are lurching. Finally to the figure spying.

Striptease is essentially a heterosexual male pleasure that invites lust with distance, without real investment in the object other than the surface. Writing about it was a way of establishing my masculinity as a poet. I wasn’t really out at the time, unless getting drunk & having sex with a drunk buddy counts. I was okay being bi but I kept my poetry focus on women.

It’s also about unrequited sex. Our Lady offers it to men who can’t have her, she goes home alone. Our peeper also goes home alone satisfied with his glimpse of the off stage Lady. Both of them caught in a culture in which the observed surface replaces real connection. 

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Welcome To The F Files

Picture Perfect 53

Picture Perfect 53

Dan pulled into the Waterside parking lot and it looked unusually empty. It took a moment for him to realize that the mobile war room was gone. As he got out of his rental he spotted Baxter waving to him from the motel’s breakfast diner.

Baxter opened the door for Dan to enter. 

“We’re about done here so I’ve sent the portable to Stellerton.”

“I thought we’d be here another day?” Dan said.

“Well we’ve been given a nudge to move along.” Warszawa said. “I’ve already been in touch with the Division Captain in Truro and he sound much more receptive to cooperation than the unit here. I’m not sure what you did to them, Baxter, but they are really pissed about something.”

“I didn’t do anything? Stephanie Carter made the initial contact with them when we filmed the initial cold case show last year. We didn’t even leave the studio to put that one together. Did we?” he asked Stephanie.

“No. I made a few phone calls to newspapers in the region, then the families. Everything was done that way. Electronically not face-to-face. We had a local crew shoot some location footage. I did talk to … ” she checked her pad  “… a Staff Sergeant McKillop from the subdivision here. He was more concerned with how I got their number than anything else.”

“So you showed up here last week without alerting them that you were coming?” Warszawa asked Baxter.

“Not my department. All the travel arrangements were made by Stephanie and Harold Carmichael. I have enough to do without that to deal with.”

“That might be part of their issue. I’ve looked at that initial broadcast. You don’t show the RCMP in a good light. They feel you ambushed them.”

“That’s a part of what the show is supposed to do.” Stephanie said. “We present facts and put them in a context. We can’t help it if that context throws a negative light on the investigators. We found all too often that many cases go cold because of something at that level. Evidence being tainted or lost. Focus on one suspect at the detriment of other avenues.”

“We had Dorothy O’Connor’s family to interview here.” Dan said.

“Still do but Mrs. O’Connor has been hospitalized. Heart.” Roberto explained. “So we decided to move on to the next stage. We will come back and hopefully she’ll be up to it by then.”

Roberto then ran through the next several days of their itinerary. “Our next major set up will be Stellerton. From here we’ll travel to the Nova Scotia interviews. After those we’ll head to Cape Breton for the the last of them. Once they’re in the can we’ll do the O’Connor interview. Any questions?”

Dan went to his cabin to pack. A job that took him less than ten minutes. He checked in with the Depot in Toronto. Next was Peter. 

Peter was only wearing a black jockstrap when he appeared on the screen.

“You like, sir?” Peter said stepping so his bulge filled the screen.

“What do you think?” Dan got hard instantly. 

“Perhaps you’d prefer this view.” He turned sideways to offer Dan a profile of the pouch. “Or this is more to Sir’s liking.” He turned again so his bare ass filled the screen.

“Don’t bend over.” Dan said. “I don’t have anything handy to clean my screen with.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Dan watched as Peter walked away from the screen. The close up of his ass making way for more of the room.

“Hope you didn’t mind.” Peter said facing the screen.

“I’m not complaining.” Dan said. “Now put some clothes on before I catch my death of frustration.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter pulled a hoodie over his head. “That better.”

“Better, no, less distracting, yes.”

Dan quickly went through the day’s events. Peter nodding or laughing every now and then. 

“Hippo Dogs!” Peter said. “Sounds … phallic. Was Chamberlain as mouth watering?”

“You know, I didn’t even give him a thought. There was enough in the Museum to occupy me. He certainly didn’t give off that vibe though.”

“He is a fine arts major.”

“How do you know?”

“Web site. You aren’t the only one who can do instant research you know. Face pic is okay. Long shots he’s overdressed and … they aren’t highdef so he pixilates if I zoom in for close ups.”

“Someone must be horny to be pixilating curator crotches.”

“Super horny.” Peter stood with his cock pushing its way out of his jock strap. “Staying at your place is cool but having all your things around me is frustrating. Your undies without you in them. Your bed without you in it.” He was massaging the underside of his cock with two fingers so Dan could see it. “Yes, that is my precum, sir.”

Dan moved his chair back from the desk and adjusted the laptop so that his cock was on screen. His eyes went from the smaller inset of what his camera was relaying to Peter, to the bigger view of Peter’s cock. 

“I’ve never watched myself jerk off on camera,” Dan said. The voyeur watching himself.  “Do you think porn stars jerk off watching themselves jerk off?” he asked Peter.

“I could google that for you, sir.” Peter gasped, his fist rapidly jerking his cock, his balls held in the cup of the jock strap.

“Show me your balls.” Dan said. He felt his own climax approaching.

“Yes, sir.” Peter shoved the jock lower to free his nuts. “Like that sir.”

Dan came. “Exactly like that.”

“Did you come, Sir?” Peter asked.

Dan licked sperm off the back of his hand. “Yes. Doesn’t taste as good as you, though.”

“As good as a Hippo Dog?” Peter laughed.

“Not as salty.” Dan grabbed a motel towel and wiped his hand on it. It wasn’t the sight of Peter’s balls that got him off, it was Peter’s obedience.

In the month after Sanjay moved out & Dan worked out the Quintix contract Peter had become more than just a diversion. Not quite a lover. Dan felt Peter was too young for a long term relationship, even though Peter was sure he was. 

“Anything to report?” Dan brought the call back to his purpose.

“Nothing, sir. Business is good at the Depot, according to Brenda that is. Maybe some changes at the Carafe though. Jill’s thinking of moving on.”

“What! Competition from a cross the street too much for her?”
“Actually quite the opposite. Business is doing too well for her. Thanks to that friend of yours she can’t keep up with the demand for the scones.”

“Friend of mine?”

“Moxham.” Peter said.

“Do I note a tone of attitude? He is just a friend you know. Not that that is any of your business.”

“Sorry, Sir. I know I agreed not to get …”

“Enough! If I want an emotional weather report from you I’ll ask for it!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter took a breath. “Mr. Moxham has come into the cafe regularly since you’ve been gone. He always brings someone with him – his millionaire clients, I guess. One loved the vanilla bean & oatmeal scones that his company has been ordering a large quantity every day.”

“That sounds like a good thing.”

“Jill figures she should go into full time baking. Which means no time to manage a cafe.”

“Hmm. Perhaps I could get Sanjay to take over.”

“What the fuck!” Peter exploded.

“Just kidding. Which is what I think Jill is doing too.”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll talk to her when I get back there next weekend. I better double check these schedule changes.”

“No, he didn’t ask about you.”


“Mr. Moxham. He was all about the scones.”

“Peter, enough.”

“Yes. sir.”

“I’ll call tomorrow. It’ll be a different room, thank God. Can’t imagine it being much worse than this one.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

The screen went to blue. 

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Voyeur’s Picnic


Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Voyeur’s Picnic

I only close the blinds

to sun

to too much light

never to the eyes of others 

we’re on the 2nd story of my house

you can’t see in from the ground

from across street

not even from the 2nd story

of the house across the street


they can’t see us


on the bed

not that I’ve tried to look

into my house from their vantage point

but I certainly can see nothing

when I look across to theirs


there is no one in their houses

I’d care to glimpse

taking off clothes

making out


so I only close the blinds

to sun

I keep them open most of the time

if they can see in

they to be working at it

I’m rarely that close to the window

if they are working at it

they are welcome to see me

dry my ass after a shower

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Picture Perfect 23

As Dan approached his house he saw the guest bedroom light was on. Maybe Sanjay had changed his mind? No, their home security system made sure lights would go on and off if there was no one home. He’d set the system for random times. No one would turn the same lights on and off at exactly the same times.

He was locking his bike in the garage when Sanjay pulled the car in.

“They let you out of the pie factory early?” He gave Sanjay a quick kiss.

“Time off for bad behaviour.” He pulled Dan close for a deeper kiss. He moved Dan so he was balanced on the hood of the car and continued to kiss him.

Dan tried to glance over his shoulder. “You aren’t going to shut the garage door?”

“Why bother? I thought you might like it like this.”

“There’s kids around here.” Dan squirmed off the car.

“I see, it is okay for you to start something but not for me?” Sanjay said and walked into the house.

Dan closed and locked the garage door.

Sanjay was preparing supper when he went into the kitchen. Dan hugged him from behind. Sanjay pried his hands away. “Not while I’m holding a knife.”

“The Unsolved people were by the Depot today. Camera crew and all that.”

“I’ve booked my tickets to Mumbai.” Sanjay said as he washed carrots. “I did not book anything for you, yet.”

“When do you leave.” 

“June 1.”

“When are you coming back?”

“It’s an open end return ticket.”

“Oh? You not planning to come back or something?”

“It is unclear as to how long I’ll be needed there. You know my father isn’t doing well. It could be my last chance to spend time with him.”

“I see. Don’t forget we have Kevin McLeod’s wedding announcement party this week-end. It’ll be a blast.”

“If I don’t have to work.”

“Don’t you know that now? It’s going to be fund raiser for the 519 Church Street Community Centre.”

“Yes. Sylvan has donated some food and of course pastries to the event.” Sanjay turned and leaned on the counter. “Look Dan, I might as well just say this now.”

“Say what?”
“I may not be coming back from India.”

“What! Because of last week?”

“No! I want to build a life for myself.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing here. Us. Isn’t that a life.”

“We’re more like fuck buddies than lovers. We share space not lives.”

“What do you mean? Fuck buddies! Sanjay, fuck buddies don’t meet one another’s families, travel together, own cars together. We might as well be a married couple for how together we are.”

“Exactly but we aren’t, are we.” Sanjay went to the fridge.

“Aren’t what?”
“Married. Dan. Married.”

“So that’s it – marry you or you’ll leave me. Where’s the love in that gun.” Dan watched as Sanjay chopped lettuce.

“Gun?” Sanja asked.

“Yeah, holding the gun of marriage to my head like that. I don’t get it. You were happy enough with the way things were when we couldn’t make it legal.

“Besides aren’t you the one who said there’d be Gay Divorce Court soon. Marriage doesn’t make anything more stable.” Dan lowered his voice. “I thought you cared for me, for us. But what you really wanted was security not a relationship. Right?”

“I do care for you but I just want …”

“What? To move to India?”

“That might be part of it. I hate the winters here. I can’t stand the way people treat me without realizing they are doing it. That I’m just some immigrant. Even though I was born here.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way. Have I ever treated you like that?”
“Not directly. But …” Sanjay paused.


“It was with great pride I introduced you to my family. I wanted them to meet my lover. A man of property and substance. To show them that as a gay man I had a real future. But they never acknowledged us. If we were married they might.”

“I’m not going to do that just so you can please your parents.”

“I know that but kept hoping you might change.”

“Perhaps you are the one who needs to change. To stop needing your parents acceptance to be happy with who you are.”

“I was never sure …. you wouldn’t find someone else.”

“I wasn’t looking. What would make you think that?”

“Oh! What about the V-Files? You left your lap top on one night. I noticed and went to turn it off and it was still on that page. You are very popular there, it seems.”

Dan had been looking there the past few nights before going to bed to give a little surge for jacking off.

“That site isn’t for pickups. Or at least I’ve never used it for that.” How could he explain this in a way that made it seem like it wasn’t a threat.

“Then what about TTBurning. He has messaged you many times it seems, to film him again.”

“I’ve never met anyone on that site. That’s not the point of it. It’s for posting …. found footage …. TT thinks he was in some of the found footage that I posted a few months ago.”

“Found? Where do you find it.”

“Mine is from the security cameras around the Depot. The back alley. It often catches more than drunk pissers stumbling around. Sometimes it’s people making out. Hookers with tricks, that sort of thing.”

“People get off on watching that sort of thing?” Sanjay wiped his hands on a tea towel.

“Some do.”
“Depends on how much dick I can see.” Dan wanted to stop, but this was the first time he’d hinted to anyone about his fascination with the lane way activities. His cellphone rang.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Sanjay snapped. “It might be TTBurning calling for his close up.”

“I told you I’ve never …”

The cell continued to ring.

“Answer it.”

“It can go to voice mail.”

“Answer it.”

“So you’ll know whose calling? Okay.”  He walked into the living room. “Hello? One second.” He took the phone from his ear. “It’s the guy from the TV show.” He put the phone back to his ear. “No I can’t talk now. Yes I’m sure it’s important but call me during business hours.”

Sanjay followed him into the room and sat on the couch. “The other night? Is that that what you wanted? To get us on the security camera so you could post it on the internet for the world to see. Is that what was on your mind?”

“No! I wanted to be spontaneous.” He knew couldn’t tell  Sanjay he was mostly right about wanting to get them on camera. But only for his own personal pleasure. Better no truth than half-truth.

Sanjay’s eyes widened as he looked around. “I suppose there are cameras hidden here too. A couch cam. We’ve made out here often enough for you know the best angle for all the action. In our bedroom?”


“What about the one in garage? Is that why you didn’t want to make out there. You thought the angle was wrong?”

“We have a security camera out there, one on the patio, one at the front door. That’s it.”

“The patio?”

“That’s how you knew about the racoons. You pointed them out to me on the monitor. You thought they were so cute till they got into the roof somehow.”

“Too bad you didn’t catch them fucking.” 

“Whatever.” Dan went to the stairs. 

“What about dinner?” Sanjay asked.

“Later. I’m going to take a shower. If you care to join me. There’s no shower cam.”

In the shower he turned the water on full blast, flipped it between hot and cold to see if it would stop his racing mind. Sanjay couldn’t be serious. They’d been so comfortable with each other for so long. He guessed that comfortable wasn’t enough for Sanjay. Was it enough for him? Either way he wasn’t going to be argued into something to save a relationship. If you have to save a relationship then it’s probably not worth saving.

He went to the bedroom, sprawled naked on top of the bed to cool off from the shower. His skin tingled. He could hear Sanjay in the guest room. Drawers opening and closing. He wasn’t packing to leave that night was he? 

He pulled boxers and clean t-shirt on and went down to the kitchen. The unfinished salad was on the counter where Sanjay had left. Dan pushed it into a container and put it in the fridge. He had no appetite.

Upstairs he went to the guest room door. Sanjay was in bed, covers pulled over him. His back to the door.

“Sanj?” he said softly.

“I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Okay.” Dan went back to his room. From a drawer in the side table he took out a box Sleep Ease and popped two of the pale blue pills out of the blister pack. What was the poem with ‘ends with a whimper’? Well, he wasn’t the one who’d be whimpering, just the one who slept well.

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Picture Perfect 20

A few minutes later Sanjay walked into the lane way.

“Long time no see.” He said as they kissed quickly.

“Yeah. How was the party?”

“Same old. I left before Sylvan could pressure me to help with the service. Feels like I haven’t slept for days.”

“I’m just finishing up here.”

“Anything I can give you hand with?” Sanjay started to roll one of the bins.

“As a matter of fact there is.” Dan grappled with Sanjay from behind and pulled him into the nook. He’d never had sex out there himself. What would that be like. How would it look on the monitors. He could star in his own moment.

“What the fuck.” Sanjay struggled to get away.

“It’s okay.” Dan unzipped Sanjay’s jeans and tried to get his cock out.

“It is not okay. Someone might see us.”

“Not here. Too dark.” He stepped into the darkest corner of the nook. “Can you see me?” Dan knew would be the best spot for the camera to catch any action. He undid his fly and let his erection catch the light.

“Sort of but … that’s not the point.” Sanjay stepped back and into the limited light. “What’s got into you?”

For the time they’d been together Dan had kept his lane way fascination a secret. There didn’t seem to be any of starting a conversation about it with anyone. He didn’t discuss it with his V-Files buddies. He saw no point. But now that he the chance to share it this way with Sanjay was too much for him to resist. He pulled Sanjay back into him and sank to knees. Sanjay pushed away.

“You been drinking or what?”

“No.” Dan said as he finally wrested Sanjay’s thick dick out of his underwear. He lunged forward and got in into his mouth. Was the light right? The angle. It better be for all the work his was doing to get this shot.

“Stop.” Sanjay shoved him hard into the wall. “This isn’t like you.” He shoved his cock back in his pants, did up the fly as he moved away from Dan.

“Sorry.” Dan stood doing up his own fly. A minute more and he would have shot off. “I was just happy to see you. Happy and horny.”

“I can tell.” Sanjay glanced around to see if anyone might have seen them. 

They pushed the bins into the nook. Dan went back into the store to get his bike. He desperately wanted to check the security cameras to see what they picked up. He could access them when he got home.

He strapped his bike to the trunk rack and got in the car.

“Man what a day.” He said. “I’m surprised someone didn’t throw a vcr through the window. Even with the signs saying No VCR’s people insist on bringing them to trade in. They take it personally, as if I was telling they weren’t worth the money, not their tired old equipment. Funny how some people resent being told no.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” Sanjay patted Dan on the knee. “About back there. So you can stop yammering about nothing.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Dan, I know you well enough to know when you are talking around something rather than facing it. I didn’t mind really I didn’t. It was just a bit unexpected.”

“Another time maybe?” Dan said. He knew that the element of the unexpected was a big part for him in making it truly hot. Planning would spoil things too much.

“I doubt it. You know how I feel about …”

“Public displays of affection.”

“Honey that was no display of affection, that was damn near rape.”

“Can’t rape the willing.”

“Or the unwilling.” Sanjay pulled the car into their garage. He handed Dan a plastic bag with some take-out containers in it.

He glanced in the bag as he went into the house. “Chinese?”

“What passes for it anyway.” Sanjay followed him in. “You change and I’ll set the table.”


“You smell like an electronics factory.”

“You don’t like my robot lubricator scent?”

“No more than you do. Now git.”

“Yes, sir. I love it when you tell me what to do.” He took the stairs two at a time. 

“Shower while you’re at it.” Sanjay called up to him.

“What about you?” He called back.

“Did that before I left the pie factory. Be quick so I can do some laundry.”

The water pressure in the house didn’t allow for shower and laundry at the same time. 

When Dam came down Sanjay had set their dinner on the coffee table in the living room.

“Top Chef.” He said. “I have two episodes to catch up on. Start without me. I’ll be right back after I slip into some looser.”

Dan spooned shrimp fried rice, red gooey something done to chicken by a General and some ginger beef onto a plate.

Sanjay came back down in a tank top and sarong. 

“Loose enough?” He asked as he sat down. He took the remote and turned on the TV, found the episodes of Top Chef and pressed play.

“You should try out for that.” Dan said. 

“Not pretty enough.” Sanjay said.

“Doesn’t seem to matter much for this show. The gals can be a bit glam but the guys are truly ordinary. Even chunky.”

“You mean fat. Say it.”

“You know that’s what I mean. I mean hefty. Some of us prefer the hefty handful, as you well know.”

“Shh …” Sanjay glanced him.

Dan finished his plate of food, during the commercial break helped himself to another and got up from the couch. “I’ll leave you to it. I got work to check out anyway.”

“You’re worse than me for always having work to do. Another case?”

“No. Still doing my research on those missing kids.”

“Right.” The commercials were over. “See you in bed.”

Dan went to his desk. Turned on the store computer to see what the monitors might have picked up of his flirtation with with Sanjay. If there was anything he’d send to his personal computer. He’d learned years ago to keep his work computer free of personal files.

He reversed the feed to the approximate time. Yes, there they were. He glanced to make sure Sanjay hadn’t left Top Chef. It happened so quickly Dan had to watch it a few times to see what was happening. None of it was at the right angles for him to see what he longed to see. Sanjay’s cock going into his mouth for a moment. If he had been in the office at the time he could have moved the camera enough to get what he wants. Probably. Damn! What a wasted opportunity.

He set the feed back to the present time. There were some people in the laneway. Perfect timing. Again he checked to make sure Sanjay was still caught up in Top Chef.

It was two people. One was pushing a bundle buggy. The other opened the garbage bin and began rooting in it. Pickers. He was used to that activity. They’s have a field day with the trade in discards. He used to spend time sorting that stuff but when he noticed that it was all often gone by morning before the garbage trucks had been by he stopped being so thorough. 

These two were pretty happy to find what was in the bins tonight. Now this was reality TV. No editing for drama. He shut the work computer off and turned on his personal one. His post on V-Files was still generating likes and looks. He watched it again. Not bad. He shut that computer off as well.

Enough is enough. He stretched and took his dirty dish to the kitchen. Sanjay came in just after him.

“The latino guy was sent packing. I’m not surprised though. Would think these guys had never watched Top Chef they keep making the same mistakes year after year.”

“I guess that’s part of the screening. Have you even seen Top Chef before?” he adopted a comic bass voice. “We have ways of making you cook.”

Sanjay laughed. 

“I’m going to turn in.” Dan said. “Its been an exhausting day. An exhausting week in fact. Missing children, Cuppa threat, RCMP looking for clues, me looking at my past.”

“What about your past?”

“Stuff about when we moved here. The why. Stuff about Timmy Dunlop that I was too young to realize or understand I guess. Funny how childhood can be rewritten when new facts come to light.

“I thought Timmy visited me because he missed me but it was most likely to escape abuse in his own home. We just happened to offer safe shelter. And … ” he almost told Sanjay about the soft-core porn he’d found. He didn’t know what to make of that himself. 


“Nothing. Just thinking aloud. You coming up soon?”

“In a bit. I’m still unwinding.”

“By watching other chefs?”

“Yeah, not having to worry about supervise them is soothing for some reason. I’ll be up once my laundry is done.”

Dan yawned. He was falling asleep on his feet. 

Dan woke to Sanjay muttering as he got into the bed.

“What is it.” Dan asked.

“You never put away after yourself.”


“Your laundry was all over the laundry room. I had to fold it up and put it away before I could do my own.”

“Sorry.” Without opening his eyes he reached over to where Sanjay was. “I’ll do it the morning. Promise.” He drifted back to sleep.

He woken again sometime later to go the bathroom. Sanjay was no longer in the bed. In the dark he made his way to the washroom. He peeked into the other room and Sanjay was there reading a book in a dime light.

“Can’t sleep?” Dan sat on the edge of the bed.

“Guess not.” Sanjay looked up from his book. 

“You still sore about before. In the lane way?”

Sanjay pulled Dan to him and pushed him onto the bed, kissing him.

“Stop.” Dan pulled away.

“Oh!” Sanjay stopped. “It is okay for you to … to ambush me in public but not okay for me to do the same in private.”

“I get your point. I said I was sorry. What more can I say.”

Sanjay pushed his blanket down.

“Say you want to suck this.” He pushed Dan’s head onto his cock.

Dan struggled to get away but couldn’t. 

“Suck it. You know you want to?” Sanjay said. “Suck it.”

Dam opened his mouth and as he began to suck Sanjay pulled him away.

“That is how I felt. Violated. Did you think I would get off on being violated like that.”

“Sanjay, it’s not as if we were strangers. Not as if we have never had sex before. We’ve done it on the patio, in the car that time. Remember you pulled over so hot from that movie we’d seen. You had to get blown there and then.”

“That was different. In the car you had been touching me. You had started things, I merely let you have your way.”

“Okay I get it.” Dan started to stand.

Sanjay pulled him back to the bed. 

“You starting something you want me to finish?” Dan pulled his t-shirt off over his head.

“No. I just wanted to kiss you good night.”

Sanjay kissed him lightly on the mouth and pushed him way from the bed.

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Picture Perfect 19

His cell phone rang. Sanjay on picture call display.

“Hey babe.” Dan said. “What’s the story?”

“Its getting to be repetitious. I’m stuck here at Zephyr for the night prep shift. I may not get home till breakfast. There’s a major fund raiser here Sunday night and you know is overseeing all the dessert preparations.”

“Poor boy.”

“Worse part is that some of them have to be gluten and nut free and cooked in a place not contaminated by either of those two nasty substances.”

“How do they get plated?”

“Oh, there’ll be separate rooms for everything and I suppose guests in one room will be forbidden to mingle with guests from the others.” Sanjay laughed. “Assault by walnut air kiss. I wonder if that is a criminal offence.”

“You love a challenge.”

“Quite true. Not seeing you is enough of a challenge for me. How was your day.”

He went through the trade-in business, the Cuppa’s take over of the nail salon, even the drop by visit from Warszawa.

“That him I hear in the background?” Sanjay teased.

“That’s just me beating off to the sound of your voice.”

“A pretty picture indeed. I better go they are calling for me. There are two cleaning crews here now and I have yet to find a space that is guaranteed gluten and nut free. Oh my head. Kisses.”


When he woke in the morning Sanjay was not in the guest bedroom. The times when he was caught in an all-nighter he would sleep at the restaurant so Dan wasn’t too worried.

He checked his email. Nothing of note. He couldn’t resist checking the V-Files. His post was now viral on the site, endless comments saying pretty much the same thing. Enough in his tip jar to pay for access to the site for a year. Some private comments had been posted to his mailbox there. A couple were invites by women to get in touch, one from a guy who claimed to be the man in the picture.

The way the site worked, to maintain anonymity as much a possible, was that locations were not cited on the actual clips or comments, but if someone posted you privately you would see where their post came from. Even if that information was unsure Dan knew how to reply posts via an off-island server. You never knew if anyone really was on line.

He deleted all the posts in his box there. He never replied to them. He wasn’t there to meet up only to share.

Dan arrived at the shop to find Ushio was already busily going through the pile of trade-ins. The day after the sale the shop was closed for inventory taking. Japanese Kpop blared from the store’s sound system.

“You’re here early.” Dan said loudly as he slipped off his shoulder bag. 

“Much work to do.”

“So I see.”

The bin for Goodwill was already half-full. 

“I forget to give you this yesterday. We were so busy.” Ushio handed Dan a dvd. “It is the movie you gave me to translate …. I mean transfer.”

“Thanks. I’ll look at it later.”

He went over the array of cameras that had been traded-in. The more complete they were – complete meant cables and rechargers – the better the trade in. Some were still in their original boxes. Too bad they weren’t top of the line.

He took several of the incomplete cameras up to the third floor worship where they kept a supply of various cables, batteries and chargers. At least once a day someone would into the store looking to replace cables that been lost, eaten by the dog, dropped in the washing machine. Their complaint was invariably why wasn’t there a universal plug like the usb that could be used on any device. But each company had its own connector and even those weren’t consistent for all devices made by the same company.

He could tell at a glance what cable was needed. Occasionally they’d get some freakish foreign model that had no North American equivalent and no adapter would fit it.

He glanced at the first camera got the correct cable and plugged it into the computer. The memory card was blank and the battery began to recharge automatically when he plugged it in.

The next was an Olympus that had no battery or memory card. Sandy probably took one look at the brand name and accepted it. He put it to one side to deal with later. 

It took him about thirty minutes to go through the ones he had brought up to test. He tagged each one with a post-it note as to what cables, batteries, memory cards they needed. With some he did a test shot to make sure the circuits were working. One memory card had several wedding pictures left on it which he cleared off. If they traded in the camera they probably traded in the bride or groom too.

Once that was done he played the dvd that Ushio had transferred for him.

At first he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. It was blur of out of focus coloured lights. The camera pulled back. It had been pushed into a Christmas tree. The lights and ornaments became clearer. He had shot this himself. His father had kidded him about trying to be too arty.

There were closeup of reflections in shiny Christmas balls. His mother drinking a cup of tea he’d shot though the needles of the tree, weird angles on gift wrap, some clearly shot with him lying on the floor. There was his sister looking down at him then pretending to stomp on him with her foot. The last of it was him rolling in the snow with someone. Timmy!

Right. Timmy had arrived that year on Boxing Day. He had a black eye from a snowball fight before he came to visit. No wait that wasn’t a visit. From what Warszawa found out that was Timmy running away from something. Surely his parents must have known that all along.

That was when Timmy would sneak into his bed and snuggle up to him. That was the first time he played with Timmy’s cock while Timmy played with his.

The reel came to an end. He reversed it to see what he had missed in the surge of memories.

Once the bulk of the trade-ins had been sorted and tested and were ready to be tossed, kept or okay to be donated, Dan let Ushio out the back way.

Dan started to push the store’s garbage bins to the nook. He recalled the first time he became aware of the activity that happened back there. 

The family was living on the third floor of the building. His bedroom was the corner room and had two windows – one on each wall. One window overlooked the lane way. He was coming on fifteen and aware he was gay.

In those years there was a bar on the corner where the office complex now stood. Rafters Bar and Grill. He could never figure out why it was called Rafters. Loud with rock on weekends his mother called the police more than once after midnight about the noise.

The laneway behind the photo shop was used by men and sometimes women late at night who needed to take a leak after a night of drinking. He would sometimes hear them knocking over the garbage cans, swearing, even fighting with one another.

More than once he spied on couples making out down there thinking they were safe. Or did they hope to be detected. If they were too noisy in their making out his mother would open a window and shout down at them that she had called the cops.

If he was restless at night he’d sit at the middle window on the second floor that gave an ideal view of the nook. He’d hope for someone to wander in to relive themselves. If he was lucky he’d have a ring side seat for a make out session.

To see a man’s cock appear out his pants got him hard. So hard he’d off ejaculate without having to touch himself.

His mother was so disgusted with the ‘abuse’ the lane way got she wanted it properly fenced and gated to stop people from using it, but as it was a shared lane she’d need to get all the other buildings on either side of it to agree. All she managed to do was to get that nook boarded over.

Dan wasn’t sure what the old factory warehouse next to his building was being used for these days. It had gone through many hands over the years. For a time it was used for raves. Several years it was a performance space, sometimes artist lofts would appear then go, a gallery. Last he heard it was to be converted to condos but that hadn’t happened yet.

After this sister married and his Dad moved them to real house, the renovations of their shop space began in earnest. One thing Dan saw to was getting the laneway fenced and had the hoarding his mother had put up to cover the nook removed.

He said the space was the perfect spot for garbage bins, which is was. He also made sure was kept clear of bins except on nights when garbage was to be collected. 

His cell rang. It was a text from Sanjay. “Out front. Want a lift home?”

Dan texted back. “Round back.”

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Picture Perfect 18

Dan locked up once Ushio and Sandy left the shop. He went to the back to make that the laneway door was secure. He put the day’s take in the safe hidden in his office. Everything that looks like a planter is not always a planter. 

He went up to the third floor to double check that all the security systems were activated. He enjoyed viewing the empty rooms. Cameras were all function and recording. There was still activity at the Classic as they prepared for that night’s poetry show. Damn he missed the book launch.

Some activity in the laneway caught his attention. It was a man and woman. They stopped in a dark recess in the building on the other side of the lane and began making out. 

He tapped one of the back camera to swivel it for a better view. Zoomed in a little at the same time. The woman was one of the sex-trade workers in the area. He’d frequnetly find used condoms back there, evidence of their work.

The man wasn’t interesting in being kissed though. With his back to the wall he was pushing her down to his groin. He moved enough so that Dan had a nice view of the cock as the hooker pulled it out of his pants. The guy’s dick reflected some of the street light. It wasn’t visible long enough for Dan to see the whole of it before the hooker had it in her mouth. Dan zoomed a bit closer. He wished he had a camera at that level rather than from this angle.

He watched the woman’s head as it moved up and down the cock, her hand squeezing as she did so. The man pulled her hand away. Said something. She adjusted her position and went back to work on his cock. Once more he pushed her hands away.

The guy’s hips moved rapidly and he pulled her away and came on her her face. She jumped up and smacked him. Guess she didn’t want her makeup ruined.

The guy laughed as he put his cock back in his pants and pulled up his fly. The woman turned and left the laneway. The guy followed a few steps then turned back to the nook. Pulled out his dick again and pissed into the corner. The street light made the yellow stream even more yellow. He left.

Dan sighed. He was hard. That sort of action always got him aroused. Sometime he’d jack off watching. He pressed reverse and as the scene replayed he had it sent to his computer at home into a file called LaneWay Play.

This time he watched the the man’s face, what expression he could make out in the lighting of the lane way. He’d kept that area deliberately darker than the rest of the alley so it would be inviting for this sort of thing. Mostly pissing men but every once in a while it would really pay off with a great show like this one.

He was still hard when he wheeled his bike out to the street. Sanjay would be in for a repeat performance for sure. He replayed the scene in his mind – the moment of the cock going into the mouth was always his favourite. He loved the way this guy wouldn’t let her use her hands to hurry the orgasm, clearly he wanted to get his money’s worth. His coming back for a piss was icing on the cake.

He locked his bike in the garage. The car wasn’t there which meant Sanjay wasn’t home yet. Would this hard on wait?

In the kitchen there was note on the fridge that said ‘Plan B.’ This was Sanjay’s signal that he’d be home later than usual and would sleep in the smaller bedroom so as not to disturb Dan when he got home. Plan B came up at least once a week. 

He grabbed some left-over chicken from the fridge and gnawed on it as he went up stairs. Why did chicken always taste better cold?

He dropped his clothes in the laundry hamper after making sure there wasn’t anything in the pockets. More than once he’d found a stray thumb-drive; sometimes cash he’d shoved in to save time doing trade-in sales. This time there was nothing.

After his shower he put on his sleep boxers and a tee, took the hamper down to the laundry room in their basement, sorted coloured from white and tossed in a load. He went back to his desk and turned on his computer. Other than camera equipment spam there was nothing of note.

He opened up the file he had sent himself from the store. He did one screen capture of the man’s face then ran it through a program that would fuzz the face whenever it appeared in the clip. For the women he only fuzzed out her eyes because he didn’t want to loose a pixel of that cock going into her almost eager mouth. 

He kept a copy of the unadulterated version for his own files. Edited the scene down to the point when the woman went to her knees, to her wiping the come hitting her face. He posted it to V-Files – the name and logo was a take off on the X-Files. There were almost instant likes for it. 

He checked his account there once every couple of weeks. If he looked at it more often it lost its appeal. He didn’t care for the picture quality of a lot of what was posted. Too much pussy eating for him as well. His posts were amongst the most popular though. Partly excuse he had better quality images and also because he took the time to do some editing. Most of the guys who subscribed to the site didn’t want to waste time going though the lead up, they wanted the action.

He did a quick search for the content that interested him. Skipped ones where the woman’s finger nails were too long, ones that looked too much like inserts from real porn movies. He stopped to watch one that took place in the back seat of a car. Two guys for change. One of them holding a phone cam as the other went down on him. The cam bobbed a little and at times he caught a glimpse of the driver looking from the front seat. Perfect, watching a watcher. Was the driver jerking off as he looked? How much more meta could it get?

Even though he was disappointed when he footage ended without a come shot Dan watched it twice while he jacked off on a towel he brought along, just in case. One more thing to wash. He tossed something in the ‘tip jar’ for the clip. Checked his account once more and saw that his recent upload now had nearly a thousand likes. Lots of lonely men home tonight.

He went to the basement, took out the first load, tossed the towel into the second. Hung the first load on clothes lines suspended from the ceiling. Saved money on dryer usage.


Back at his desk he pulled up the pictures of the missing children. Each was so innocent as they looked into the camera.

First was Madeleine, aged 9, and Gerrard Forestier, aged 7, sister and bother. Last seen walking along the road that ran through their orchard in Annapolis Valley. She was bringing him home from their grandparents farm. Both parents and grandparents had assumed the children were safe with the other. It wasn’t until morning they realized the children were gone.

The segment on them included brief video clip of the two children running around a living room at Christmas, jumping on a couch and then Gerrard cuddling up to an older woman Dan assumed to be the grandmother.

In one photo Madeline was on a swing, looking a little sad. She was wearing a sleeveless summer dress that had big daisies all over it. No shoes just her socks, which were dusty. From the shadows Dan figured this was toward evening.

The picture of Gerrard was taken in winter. He was wearing a one piece snow suit. He was chewing on the thumb of his glove as he look at the camera, eyes squinting from the light reflected from the snow. From the shadows Dan placed this one at noon.

The pictures were probably from the year before the children vanished. They looked to be 7 and 9. Image quality, even as printouts, was similar enough to have been from the same camera. He’d need to see the originals or negatives to know that for sure. Not that that was relevant to what happened them. 

He heard the washing machine stop in the basement and went down to hang the seconds load. Was that leak around the machine’s connection to the hot water line?

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Men In Underwear

I’ve been working through the Gayish podcast backlog (or should that be logs as there are two hosts). Besides listening the the most recent I’ve been going backwards & forwards – or is it top to bottom? Listening to one oldest, then the most recent. This past week I heard their podcasts about Undies & then the one about Voyeurism.

These two meshed together when one of my regulars set up play date & asked if he should wear the undies I gave him. I said ‘sure’ more because they were a memory for him of a past play session & now served as foreplay for him as he travelled to my house. He couldn’t wait to show them off for me. He isn’t the only one of my regulars I’ve given undies to – the others sometimes just show up wearing a gifted pair without warning. I find their pleasure in dressing up for me very hot. I like to look at men in underwear, whether I gave those undies to them or not.

I’ve written about my affection for undies a few times. Most recently Nice Undies I’ll also add, my undies have improved my sexual self-confidence & since I invested in my collection my sex life has increased. One tip for any underwear fan out there – never put them in the dryer – always air dry. Dryers are too hot for the elastic & will cut their ‘shelf’ life by 50% or more.

Voyeurism? The male of many species are aroused by visual, input hence the allure of make up etc. I enjoy porn, but not as much as I once did, & not the sort that I once enjoyed. I can remember looking at the male underwear pages in Eatons or Simpsons catalogues with great pleasure. Did they airbrush them groinless? Ditto album covers. Before I moved from Cape Breton I was ordering pay pinup magazines from Toronto – Numbers, BlueBoy – I was ‘educated’ by the nude men. Flaccid due to the law. Magazines like Penthouse could show a women spreading her labia lips, but an erection was forbidden, ditto the anus. Now porn has become so pervasive & available thanks to the web, I’m mostly bored.


The older I get, the younger the men seem to get, it’s to the point where I feel like a pedophile if the models are too hairless. Watching sex isn’t as appealing as having sex 🙂 One of my regulars insisted on a 3-some so he could have someone watch him as he topped me. It was more fun for him in that sense than for me. The third guy? Well, he loves the undies I gave him.

A Walk in the Park

I was walking though the park

eyes open for dog shit

I turn a corner and there is this couple 

female splayed on a picnic table 

a man on his knees between her legs

she moaning pushing his head deeper 

his hairy ass bare in the sun


her eyes catch mine

I can’t tell if the expression

is pleasure    invitation    dare

or what the fuck are you looking at

he stands and half turns

hard cock flashing in crisp light

she licks her lips 


I keep going   that image in my mind

his jeans crumpled below his knees

her panties around one ankle

their faces gleaming    beaming


what brought them 

to that place and time

were they walking along 

so aroused they had to have each other 

was she a working girl 

and didn’t care where she made a buck

did they need an audience

to take them to another level of orgasm


when I doubled back

they were gone

all that remained 

was a pair of panties



every Tuesday 2019


Stratford Festival – Nathan The Wise

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton
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Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C. 

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