“I’ve only got until six,” he says the moment I’m in the door. He whirls in place and pads across the living room on bare feet. I guess he t...

He’s got a tribal tattoo that covers his right bicep. It’s a splash of dark ink against what’s otherwise milky-white skin—skin nearly as whi...

The woods I occasionally cruise are in a light industrial section of town, where warehouses and tiny manufactories occupy streets down which...

I was eating lunch in a deli Sunday afternoon that seemed to be attracting quite the flow of hot guys through its doors. When I entered with...

It seems that my encounters, clustered together, seem sometimes to have little themes that I didn’t anticipate. A few weeks back, every fuck...