Page 178 - Some Dance to Remember

148 Jack Fritscher

singing their most-requested medley of “I Feel Pretty,” “I Enjoy Being a
Girl,” and “I’m Just a Woman in Love.” The Gay Men’s Twirling Battalion
sat themselves down in formation, smack-dab on their batons, and wrote
him petulant hate mail on perfumed stationery.
“Darling,” one majorette, who signed his name Mavis, wrote, “You’re
too much! Call me!!!”
Ryan had not consciously meant to outrage the already outrageous;
but when people are bruised, they find hurt easily everywhere. He should
have known better.
One summer night, a gaggle of dykes kicked their motorcycles up
along the curb in front of Ryan’s Victorian. They gunned their engines,
aping Marlon Brando in The Wild One, hooting, and throwing their
empty beer cans at his front door, shouting, “Is this butch enough for
you, asshole?”
Ryan peered outside and stroked his beard. “They’re wearing so much
studded leather they must have raided a pit-bull accessory shop.”
“San Francisco,” Kick said, “is full of male impersonators of both
sexes.”
They watched through the blinds as the women burned copies of the
Manifesto in the street. The sweet little gay couple across the way slowly
twirled their Levolors closed.
“I hope,” Kick said, “they’re having as much fun as we are.”
“I hope they paid for the copies they’re burning.”
“I doubt that.”
Ryan turned up the tape on the stereo, and Kraftwerk’s Trans-Europe
Express drowned out the muffled noise in the street. He pulled his mus-
cleman into him.
“You gonna give your buddy your butt?” In bed with Kick, Ryan
affected a slight southern drawl. He lowered his buffed lover to the bed
and lifted the trophy-winning Best Legs in California. He loved fucking
Kick’s splendid glutes. “Gimme that tight dirty-blond muscle butt.”
Kick reached his hands up between his raised legs and played with
Ryan’s tits.
“Oh, how you do me when you do me like you do,” Ryan said.
His cock stood erect. He pressed it between the twin scoops of Kick’s
butt. This was the kind of coaching Kick liked.
“Come on, man. Give your buddy your butt.”
He drove his dick home, slow-pumping the man he loved more than
anyone he had ever loved before.

©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
HOW TO LEGALLY QUOTE FROM THIS BOOK