8/7/2019 Something About Sin (Excerpt) -- By Taylor Siluwe

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 from the forthcoming…

Something about SinBy Taylor Siluwé

*** author of 'Dancing with the Devil' explores dark taboos of love, sex and sin ** 

 ___________________________ 

 A writer becomes embroiled in

disturbing ethical and personal dilemmas

while investigating a possible arson at a local Gay & Lesbian community center.

 _____________________________ 

ow are the pictures?” Tobias Witherspoon asked in his gravelly voice, no doubt

exhaling a cloud of smoke into a steaming cup of black coffee. “You get any

good ones?”  “H“Of course I did,” I said, feeling my oats and glancing over at Axel as he lounged on the

sofa, tugging at the too large boxers I’d given him to sleep in. His ‘worldly possessions’

consisted of all manner of odds and ends, but very little clothing. But he was as beautiful

disrobed as I’d expected—with, among other tats, an intricate Chinese dragon perched on the

right side of his back.

 Not wanting him was going to get harder by the day.

“What did Stark have to say?”

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“ Huh,” I peeled my thoughts from Axel’s creamy frame, “Oh, oddly enough, I didn’t see

him.”

“How could he not be there? He lives there, for Christ’s sake.”

I suddenly realized how distracted I’d been.

Of course Stark had been there, somewhere. He’d surely turn up in the pictures, standing

in the crowd of onlookers, another face amongst the soft focus context for the mysterious boy too

 beautiful for his name.

“Did you interview anybody?” Tobias queried.

As Editor-in-Chief of  Jerz Magazine —NJ’s hippest monthly for the LGBT community— 

Tobias’ early morning conversations rarely ventured beyond how to turn mundane stories into

sexy ones. But when it did, he morphed seamlessly into the gay father figure he’d become to all

the staffers of  Jerz . After the Raquel Miller story gave me and Jerz a national spotlight, I felt

like a bit of a rock star. But Tobias kept reminding me that I’m only as good as my next story.“Uhm, I interviewed one little morsel, uh … bystander, kinda, probably─ I’m not sure

yet.”

“And what, I’m afraid to ask, does that gobbledygook mean?”

Axel’s even smokier morning voice intruded, “Yo, what channel is MTV?” 

“Sixteen.”

“Who’s sixteen?” Tobias asked.

“What? No. I wasn’t talking to you,” I told Tobias. Lowering my voice, I wandered into

the bedroom away from Axel. “I took some shots of this fucking unbelievable young guy at the

scene who was more intriguing than the fire. At this very moment he’s in the living room

watching MTV in my underwear.” I added with unashamed glee, “He didn’t have any of his

own.”

“You nasty bitch! Hold on.”

I stifled a laugh as I heard him fumbling around on his desk. If I knew Tobias, he was

opening a fresh pack of Camels and possibly adding a little dark rum to his morning coffee.

After a brief coughing spasm he returned to the phone.

“Okay,” he exhaled loudly and I heard his chair squeal as if he’d put his feet up. “Start atthe beginning and don’t leave out one lascivious detail.”

“Well,” I paused for torturous seconds, “first, I uh, heard there was this fire on my police

scanner—”

“Don’t toy with me, evil homo. And please tell me he’s not sixteen ... then again don’t

tell me, plausible deniability and all that.”

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“Relax. He’s that magical age—twenty one. He just looks and smells like jailbait.”

Tobias moaned like Homer Simpson eyeing a pie. “Exactly how adorable is he?”

“Two words—Greek Godlet.”

I could feel him grinning through the phone. Being in a committed relationship for the

 past twenty years, he was always too eager to live vicariously through others.

“Literally?”

“His mother was..”

“I want a picture immediately.”

“I haven’t downloaded them yet. I’ll send some later today though.”

“So did you end your dry streak? Did you fuck him?” Tobias drooled.

“For the umpteenth time there is no dry streak. I just don’t screw and tell.” Against my

will a Napoleonic, drug-dealing South American came to mind. My mood went down a notch.I certainly couldn’t tell Tobias about Sin.

“Still dry then? You’re forty years old, Danté. If you don’t let somebody in you’re

gonna find yourself old and alone.”

“Whatever. Let’s get out of my bedroom and back to—”

“Seriously, you’ve got this bi-polar trust thing. On the one hand you let an adorable

stranger stay in your new condo, and on the other you don’t even plan to screw him for fear 

you’ll fall in love and he’ll break your heart.”

“Are you done, Dr. Phil?”

“Do you think he’s involved with the fire?”

“His words, verbatim, ‘I don’t know anything about a gay center or why it burnt. I just 

happened to be there.’  End quote.”

“Then I’m ordering you to hang up and get out there and fuck that boy. I mean, think 

about it, what did the Greeks do with their Godlets?” Tobias laughed.

“Okay, now you’re Dr. Ruth. You’re such a old perv’.”

“The world is I’m just a humble scribe trapped on this blue ball. But before you go and

hump yourselves into delirium give me dirt. I’m getting older by the second.”

I told what I knew of Axel thus far with the exception of our money arrangement. Like

my sexual misadventures some things were best kept close to the breast.

“And fyi—he slept on the couch.”

I peeked into the living room.

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Axel was on his stomach flipping channels.

“Hold on….”

I put the phone down and grabbed my camera. I went down on one knee and zoomed in

until Axel’s dragon was a chiseled background landscape with a shaft of sunlight caressing the

white silken material covering the hill of ass in the foreground. Click, click.

Axel looked back at me.

I zoomed out.

The brooding face over the shoulder expressed annoyance. Still his narrowed eyes seared

through the lens into mine. Like a sudden wave of hunger which leaves you weak, my desire to

touch that dragon was fleeting but strong. Click, click.

I slipped back into the bedroom and picked up the phone with my heart beating faster 

than before.

“But who knows, maybe I’ll upgrade his accommodations one day.”

“ Attaboy … taking advantage of a possible fire victim and/or arsonist—for your own

 prurient needs. I love it!” He coughed loudly. “You’re the scum of the earth, Danté, which, I

might add, is totally acceptable if you get a great story out of it.”

It was just like Tobias Witherspoon to creatively twist the tragic events of New Jersey’s

first gay owned community center burning to the ground into a soap opera filled with sex, arson

and barely legal boys being exploited for their bodies.

He was my hero. But after I hung up the phone I wondered how right he was.

from the forthcoming... 

Something about Sin 

stay tuned … www.TaylorSiluwe.com