Sun and
sex!
Sand and
sex!
Surfers
and sex!
Here’s
how my first story set in South Florida begins:
“For all its wealth, the main draw for
me of the City of Palm Beach, Florida, is the number of surfer dudes that can
be found on the city beach. There is something about the positioning of the
beach relative to the Gulf Stream that allows for good surfing
conditions−particularly when the tropics are acting up. Because of parking
restrictions, the surfers usually come to Palm Beach packed into a single
vehicle. The thought of being tangled up with those hot boys in baggy shorts
gets my balls tingling as I drive my convertible across the bridge over the Intracoastal
Waterway to the barrier island that is home to Palm Beach.”
Published in Alyson Books’ “Best Gay
Stories of 2009,” the story, “Not Looking for Love,” illustrates my contention
that you should “write what you know.” At the time of writing it my job in Palm
Beach County required extensive travel throughout the area, so I was familiar
with the coast and inland areas that play prominent roles in the story. It’s
not a travelogue however, as my alter ego Trent offers college student Chad a
ride in his bright red convertible. The ride ends with the duo in Trent’s bed
fucking their brains out.
Several torrid sex scenes−including the
deflowering of Chad−propel the narrative forward. All of Trent’s efforts to
slow the relationship down are futile and the couple are still together ten
years later when the story ends.
A word about the title, I saw it as a
play on the Johnny Lee country song containing the lyric “looking for love in
all the wrong places.” The story sets the place and love is unexpectedly the
result.
I used South Florida as the locale for
several stories that I will discuss in subsequent blogs.
Note:
This story was reissued with Excessica Publishers as “Subtropical Trilogy 2:
Not Looking for Love”:
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