I asked him to drop me somewhere.I knew the apartment John mentioned. Shankar drove me there. When he asked me whose apartment it was, I said it’s a...friend of mine. To this date, I am afraid he’ll someday figure out that it’s John’s house. I went upstairs and rang his doorbell.He opened the door, and I saw him in his tight t-shirt, holding a cigarette. I walked inside, and he kept quiet. I was in a dilemma. I wanted to live my life with Shankar. But before that, I had to control my body by. I WARN YOU AGAIN that this sort of thing is to the taste of a very few only. DO NOT READ THIS STORY and give it a negative vote because you are so disgusted and sickened by it, you were warned not to continue. I must tell you, in defence of myself for coming up with a tale so awful, that I write for men, rather than along the lines of my own preferences. Writing this was something of a challenge, and, given just two brief criteria by the couple of men who urged me on, I hope that I have done. More

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