I'm posting another free excerpt from my yet to be published gay romance titled, How To Be A Good Gay Bottom. Of course, and this should go without saying, this excerpt is a tongue in cheek scene from the book that's not meant to be taken totally seriously. It's not inaccurate, and it is a fact of gay life for many gay men, but I wouldn't want to mislead anyone. This scene is important to the story line, and it's important to the character, but I know some people might take this too seriously.
It's also SFW...at least I think it's SFW. It's not a sex scene. It's simply a scene about personal hygiene.
The excerpt is below, and here's a blurb for the book. How To Be A Good Gay Bottom will be published within the next few weeks, and I'll post more when I get links.
While minding his own business at Tea Dance one Sunday afternoon, Paul stumbles across a handsome young openly gay politician named Gordon. Although Paul isn’t actively looking for a relationship and he doesn’t even like politics, in spite of his own misgivings he can’t deny his attraction to Gordon.
For one thing, Paul is a gay virgin who has never had anal sex with anyone. He’s not only terrified of anal sex he doesn’t even know how to be a gay bottom. Just thinking about being a bottom makes his heart pound. There’s also the fact that Gordon is running for Governor as an openly gay man, and Paul absolutely despises the dirty business of politics. He doesn’t like attention, he doesn’t like the media, and he’s not even sure a gay man can be elected governor in his state.
And yet Paul continues to see Gordon, because there’s something decent about Gordon he can’t ignore. Gordon makes him feel like the kind of man he’s always wanted to be, and that alone is worth all the obstacles that stand in his way. Though Paul is not certain he’ll ever get used to Gordon’s political ambitions, and he has no idea whether Gordon will be elected governor, he is determined to learn how to be a good gay bottom, and he will let nothing stand in his way to get there.
How To Anal Douche Properly
In keeping with the theme of this entire post, I found this excellent piece about anal douching. It's actually an advertorial, and I'm not endorsing anything here for my own personal gain, but I think it goes into a few good details with regard to anal sex.
Anal douching is the act of cleansing the rectum and anal canal, most traditionally done with liquid expelled from a douche bulb. It is not meant to treat a medical condition, such as constipation, and can be done before and/or after sex.
Here's the link.
Douchie's Guide To Butt Health
Now here's a link that really goes into detail about anal sex and overall butt health. For those of you who are wondering why I'm posting all this today, it's because it is a true concern for many gay men and it's not something we like to talk about openly. For many gay men it causes a good deal of anxiety. Thankfully there is information out there online now.
Douchie is here to take topics of butt health out of the closet. Douchie brings you info, advice & community conversations about everything from fissures to fisting. Find the tools and tips you need to keep your butt looking fresh and feeling great.
You can check this one out, here.
How To Be a Good Gay Bottom FREE Excerpt
As usual, Gordon was in the middle of something important that was related to his campaign and he didn't have time to text. I didn't mind that in the least. I knew he was busy and that he was working hard. We exchanged a few basic pleasantries and then I promised him I'd text him when the plane took off and landed the following day. After I got that out of the way, I pulled out a business card that was given to me by Eduardo earlier that week during that group therapy session at the clothing optional condominium complex in North Palm Springs. Eduardo had told me I could contact him if I was interested in hooking up again, and I figured it couldn't hurt to see if he was free that night. If nothing else, it was better than sitting around doing nothing.
So I called Eduardo and he picked up on the second ring. "Hello."
"Hi, it's me, Paul John from the group therapy session. I'm the one you gave your business card to."
At first, there was dead silence, as if he didn't have a clue. Then he said, "Of course I remember you. You're the dude with the great body and a hot ass who never did anal."
In spite of myself, I laughed at his idiocy. He said this in such a crude way I couldn't get insulted. "Yes, that's me. Paul, the gay bottom virgin."
"I knew you would call me," he said. He didn't sound smug; just confident.
"You did not."
He laughed. "Oh, yes. I certainly did. I thought it would take a week, though. I didn't expect you to call me this soon. You must really need a man."
"Don't be so glib. I called you because I'm leaving Palm Springs tomorrow and I wanted to see if we could hook up tonight. That is, if you're free to hook up. I know it's short notice and if you’re busy that’s fine."
"You need a stud, don't you? You want some."
My face started to feel warm. "Well if you're going to put it that way maybe it was a mistake to call you."
"Don't get upset," he said. "I'm only joking around with you. I'd like to see you tonight. Do you want to come here, or should I come there?"
"I'd rather come to your place if that's okay," I said. "My friends are all here and it could be awkward." My friends wanted to know everything and I didn't feel liked explaining.
"That's fine. It's very private here. You'll like it. Why don't you come over around 8."
I agreed to go to his place and he gave me an address plus directions. I thought it was odd that he gave me directions, but I scrambled through my suitcase for a pen and paper and I took them down anyway and didn't say anything. I figured I would simply enter the address into the GPS in the Escalade and that would bring me to his front door.
After we hung up, I took a nap and wound up sleeping longer than I'd expected. When Richard knocked on my door to ask what I wanted them to order for me from the Chinese restaurant it was a little after 7 pm and I didn't have a minute to waste.
"Don't worry about me," I told Richard through the closed door. "I have plans."
"You have plans?"
"Yes. I'm getting together with a friend I met earlier this week. I want to see him before I head home tomorrow." The fact that he sounded so surprised that I had plans made me want to tell him less. I hate people knowing everything about me, especially aspects of my life I consider private. They all want to know what you're doing, but they never want to tell you what they are doing.
"You know we have an early flight," Richard said, with a condescending tone.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know." I knew I could pack later when I got home. "I really have to start getting ready now. I'm meeting my friend at 8. I'll stop by on my way out."
"Okay," he said, and then I heard his footsteps heading back to the main area of the house.
I knew there were a few things I had to do to prepare. I hadn't eaten much that day so that wasn't an issue, but I did have to douche. I'd read all about anal douching online and the experts all said it was necessary. I'd ordered a special contraption online they called a "Master Mister Cleanser," and I'd been applying a gel to my bottom that was called anal bleach for months now. Supposedly, the anal douche cleared out all waste, and bleach lightened all dark spots around the anus. What did I know? I didn't think the anal bleach did all that much good, but I used it anyway. I figured it couldn't hurt.
Don’t laugh: I yanked off my clothes, ran to my suitcase, and pulled out a black acrylic anal douche with a big round bulb at one end and a long thin tube at the other. I took it into the bathroom and filled bulb end with warm soapy water. The interesting thing is I didn't mind inserting the tube end into my anus. When I squatted in the middle of the bathroom floor and reached down between my legs with both hands, I slowly slid the tube into my hole and felt a few nice sensations I hadn't expected. Oh, well; I even smiled. But this wasn't the first time I'd douched. I'd been practicing anal douching for a while just in case. I squeezed the black bulb, warm soapy water filled me, and I closed my eyes and sighed aloud. I'd read there were people who had anal sex and they didn't go through this step all the time, but I knew so little about anal sex I wanted to feel secure in knowing that no one could ever call me a soggy, sloppy bottom. The thing is that when you don’t have the experience you worry about everything.
So I went through the douching step with warm soapy water two more times just to be sure I was clean, and then I jumped into the shower for a quick manscape. I'd never had much body hair, and I'd already manscaped once that week, but I wanted to make sure I was completely smooth from the waist down that night. Perhaps it was my insecurity that forced me to go through all these steps, or perhaps I just wanted to pay attention to detail. Either way it didn’t take long and I was dressed, silky smooth all over, and ready to leave the house by 7:45.
The guys were outside next to the pool finishing their dinner when I walked up and stood in the doorway leading outside. "I'll see you all in the morning. I have to run now. I'm late."
"That's it?" Ben asked. "You're not going to tell us where you're going?"
While the rest of them exchanged glances, I turned and said, "I really can't right now. I don't want to be late."
Before they had a chance to reply, I turned and headed to the front door. I wasn't trying to be rude or dismissive. I was trying to hide the fact that my hands were on the verge of shaking and my heart on the verge of palpitating. I was determined to have anal sex that night, whether I wanted it or not.
I climbed into the Escalade and hated the thought of sitting down to drive. My anus was so clean and fresh from all that douching I wanted to keep it as ventilated as possible. I'd also used a special anal cream with a fresh peppermint scent, and every time I opened my legs it smelled like breath mints. The peppermint anal cream was supposed to keep me fresh for hours down there, and it could be used as a lube and was edible, too. From everything I'd read in articles and opinions about anal sex, it's the bottom's responsibility to put the time in and do the work so that they can please the top. Of course I found that a little annoying, because all the top guy has to do is pull out his penis and have fun. Most of them don't even carry condoms. Gay tops don't have to prepare for anything, but the bottom has to do everything down there shy of lighting a scented candle in his buttocks.
At the end of the driveway I told the navigation system where I wanted to go and she calculated the route immediately. I also had the directions I'd written down just in case. I'd been driving around Palm Springs enough that week to know basically where I was heading. Eduardo lived in a small neighborhood called The Mesa off Indian Canyon Drive toward the south section of Palm Springs, which wasn't that far from Warm Sands where I was staying.
About 10 minutes later the GPS lady told me to make a right turn onto a small street off Indian Canyon, and then she led me to South Mesa Drive. The homes were all amazing examples of mid-century modern or Spanish Colonial, with established desert landscapes that included exotic flowering shrubs and palm trees. Although the homes were built fairly close together, each one had its own privacy wall with even more climbing vines and flowers. There wasn't a car in sight and no one was out walking. It was one of the quietest neighborhoods I'd seen in Palm Springs so far, and that's partly because it backed right up against the San Jacinto mountain range.
Unfortunately, the GPS lady got a little confused after I turned on South Mesa, and I wound up driving around the same house on South Mesa 4 times. So I pulled off to the side and looked at the directions Eduardo had given me. Then I glanced at the map on the navigation system and realized I was only minutes away. I just had to find one road that wasn't far off South Mesa, and then climb part of the mountain.
Eduardo's directions led me up a narrow, winding mountain road that stopped at a tall black iron gate that had been left wide open. I hesitated for a moment, but then drove forward. It had to be the right driveway, but I was slightly surprised everything was so grand. Not grand in a formal, intimidating way. This was grand in the sense that the scenery and the natural desert beauty were so exquisite. The uphill driveway turned out to be as long as some streets in Palm Springs and it ended at the entrance of one of the most magnificent homes I'd seen so far there. This was a white stucco 3-story affair, with a terracotta roof and arched windows in every room. The back of the mansion had been built up against the mountains, and the front had a gasp-worthy view of Palm Springs that looked clear out to the wind turbines in North Palm Springs. If I looked closely I could actually see cars moving on I 10. The entire place seemed to be a compound, with several other smaller outbuildings strategically set into the mountainside. There were trails and paths leading to the other buildings, the landscaping was a combination of natural desert plantings and cultivated greenery that included lush lawns and those tall skinny junipers found in Mediterranean countries. In fact, the entire property reminded me of southern Italy, in a natural unplanned way where nothing at all stood out as vulgar. Even the clay pots, in all different sizes and shapes, looked as though they could have been over a hundred years old at least. And they were filled with exotic flowers in different colors, and clearly maintained to perfection. It all made me feel a little guilty about not doing more with my landscaping back home. My landscaping goal at 300 Hanover Street had always been to keep the established shrubs well-pruned, and make sure the grass was always green and lush.
I was about to text Eduardo to let him know I'd arrived when I glanced up and saw him walking toward me. He was wearing tight skinny jeans, with light brown shoes and no socks. His white dress shirt was open at the collar and he'd rolled up the sleeves to his elbow. With his thick unruly dark hair and his gorgeous bronze skin, the white shirt created a contrast that would have made him stand out in public anywhere he went. As he approached the car he had both hands in his pockets and a great big smile on his face.
I climbed out and met him at the front of the car. "I'm glad you gave me directions. I would have gotten lost if I'd had to depend on GPS this time."