Patches of memory returned. The wastebasket being placed. Soft soothing words as a cool washcloth was placed on my eyes. I turned to the side to see a...water bottle, half full, where I knew it would be. A flashing image of cool porcelain against my face, a welcome sensation as I knelt at the toilet. Moaning and babbling incoherently. The police. I winced against the memory of hurling my guts up as my aunt watched and listened and asked questions, holding my hair. The police?Oh, fuck, it was all. I was pretty popular at school. We all found the farthest corner and sat down to talk. Like all boys my age we began talking about sports, which then quickly changed to girls, and then to sex. Somehow we ended up talking about gay sex, we where all pretty open to each other. Some admitted to watching gay porn, but not to jacking to it. I just listened. I noticed that all my buds where covering their crotches, either with a book, or a casual hand. They where covering their erections, and so was. More

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