One day I came in from my regular after-work run, headed for a shower at the Old Red Gym, where I kept a locker. There was this adorable person getting out of the shower at the same time I was, all smiles, and it seemed to me looking to get picked up. So I did pick him up and off to my place we went for a beer and some fooling around.
Water skiing and getting it on with boys were his main interests, near as I could tell. We had Janis Joplin in common, I remember. For a 19-year-old, Steve was about the most versatile partner I'd encountered, and a virtually unlimited appetite for sex was something else we had in common. He used to call me up, out of the blue, and say, "I'm hot for your body, why don't you come over?" And I'd go over, more than gladly.
The relationship was mostly sexual for quite some time, but
then I developed a crush on him, just about the time he was
moving to Minneapolis. I visited him there with some
anticipation that things might develop further, but it was then
clear they wouldn't. Later he moved to California, where he got
involved in political work at the state level on behalf of
lesbian and gay people. He's been back (his family was here) a
couple times, as friendly as ever, but I've now lost track of
him, unfortunately, and the family appears to have decamped,
probably for warmer climes.
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