Call Me Read Free Page A

derrière you advertise so nicely. I haven’t rode a bike for years but I daresay I could ride your bum quite well. After leaving the pub we’d go back to the campsite. Your groin would be aching with expectation. In the tent I would slowly take off your clothes under a large duvet that I use. I would gently ease your legs apart and kiss the inside of your leg as I gradually moved closer to your prick.
    I suck your balls and lick your groin before taking your prick deep into my mouth. I suck your balls again and let my dribble run down to lubricate your arse which I have been delicately easing with my index finger. I lift up the duvet and put your legs onto my shoulders and move forward to put my tongue into your mouth. As I do so, my 7″ tool slips easily into your arse and I move rhythmically to and fro until I come. We cuddle up and fall asleep.
    What a fantasy—what an adventure! Actually, it’s all perfectly possible. Just get yourself up here and the rest is my treat. Well Bike Boy, you horny devil, I hope to hear from you soon. Do write a frank letter and if you have a phone number let me know that too. Just the thought of my stiff prick sliding into you for the very first time is making me so excited.
    Please phone—I shall be waiting.
    Best wishes
    Yours,
    Michael
    Verdict: Take a chance? My intuition told me this was a sure way to end up in a shallow grave with my head simmering nicely on the stove. No.
    *   *   *
    From Hampstead came jagged writing on a single sheet of grey. Matching envelope. Stapled top left was a black and white mug-shot.
    â€”, —————— ——
    Hampstead
    0171 433 ——
    Hello Stranger!
    You sound great. It gives me a hard-on just thinking about those shorts, or what’s in them.
    Horny devil? Welcome any time!
    Best wishes,
    Jack Hanley
    Verdict: Without the photo Jack would have been a No. But he could have been my twin.
    Tall, dark, mid to late twenties. Barbour jacket, estate-agent haircut. Serious. A Maybe.
    A page torn from a school maths exercise book had been folded several times too many, like a note passed under a toilet door. It came in an envelope too large for such an item. An absolute scrawl in green felt-tip.
    Saturday
    0171 937 ——
    Dear Bike Boy, are you serious?
I feel a little awkward replying
to a lonely hearts ad but suppose
that the mystery element is fun.
Slim / smooth / safe / smiling?
Could it be that there are
actually a few of us around?
I’m 16, about 5′8″, blue eyes,
blond(ish) … If interested
then give me a ring.
    If I’m not in leave a message.
    Be discreet or you’ll freak my mum!
    Hope to hear from you soon.
    X
    Allan
    Verdict: Show me a queer who’d say no to the idea of a sixteen-year-old and I’ll show you a liar. Yes. (Guardedly.)
    Two signatures with the same black ink, slanting in opposite directions, caught my attention at the bottom of a crisp yellow sheet. Nicely word processed, poorly printed.
    â€”—————.
    â€”———— Lane,
    Barnstaple,
    North Devon
    Dear NS 405,
    We are replying to your advert in Boyz.
    (Apologies for typing but our writing is hard enough to understand ourselves, let alone for someone else try to decipher it.)
    We are Matthew and Gareth and have been together seven years and thought what with the general pressures and frustrations of London, we would fare better in Devon and have recently bought a two bedroomed house down here.
    We are both interested in entertaining, videos, Country & Western music, ice-skating, computers. How about you? What are your interests, hates etc? Do you live on your own? Where?
    We are both versatile when it comes to sex and both enjoy most aspects of it, except S&M and bondage.
    We can easily accommodate if you fancy some country air, homemade wine and FUN. Drop us a line and send us a photo, we’d love to see you in those