Manuel

Call them the Miami mafia.

You've probably noticed them on the Hotwires page.

Four or five guys, all living in Florida, who seem to be the keenest HMBoys.com members and to have the time to put pen to paper - or finger to keyboard, I guess - virtually every week.

Well, I'm not one of them - though I do live in Florida.

Miami, to be precise.

It's a great place to retire to, like I did a few years ago.

Sea, sunshine, and plenty of sex.

Oh, yeah - even for old guys like me.

Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Key West, Orlando, Tampa - and even Gulfport and Hallandale, for Crissakes - they've all got their bars just full of hot young guys, lots of them straight off the farm as far as I can see, and all of them desperate to have a good time.

And sometimes, though not all of them would admit it, they're even quite prepared to have a good time with me.

OK, I'm not kidding myself. The fact that I've got a nice house, a smart car and a few dollars in the bank isn't gonna make them run away, but I really think a lot of these guys like me for myself too.

One of them's Manuel.

His English isn't too hot - and, if it was, I guess we'd find out that he really shouldn't be in the good ol' US of A at all! - but we manage to communicate pretty well all in all.

'Cos his English isn't too hot, he can't read a book or even a newspaper.

But he sure likes another sort of reading when he comes to see me.

'Cos Manuel is a rare kid who likes porn.

Now I've got a theory.

Older guys like porn because when we were young you couldn't get much real sex - so dirty pictures were all you had.

But kids today grow up with sex all around them - in movies, on TV, in ads, everywhere.

And after only a few more minutes, he starts to look real hot and sweaty.

Your can see it on his forehead and by the way he lifts up his shirt.

I've got the air conditioning on full, so don't blame me!

Of course, Manuel knows I'm there - and that I'm enjoying watching him - but he carries on as if I wasn't.

I suppose it's all part of our game.

And at this point, it's like we're playing one-sided strip poker!

It's almost like I'm not there.

Manuel just looks so hard at that picture, and, all the while, the sweat keeps rolling down his smooth young chest.

And then, just when I think his eyes are gonna pop outa his head if he goes on staring at that darned guy in the magazine any more, Manuel will put the mag down and start to look at me.

Maybe he needs the pictures to work him up before he starts on me - I don't know and, quite honestly, I don't care.

Because if letting him look at porn gets me what cums next, then quite frankly, my dear, in the immortal words of Rhett Butler, I don't give a damn…

Especially in real life.

So they kinda look down on porn and think it's only for guys who are desperate 'cos they can't get the real thing.

But not, for some reason, Manuel.

The first thing he does whenever he comes to see me is look to see if I've got a new magazine for him to look at.

He looks at it just like it's a copy of Homes & Gardens or Martha Stewart's home-making magazine - but you can tell by the way he soon crosses his legs to hide the bulge in his pants that my porn is getting him more excited than a recipe for strawberry scones ever could.

Especially in real life.

So they kinda look down on porn and think it's only for guys who are desperate 'cos they can't get the real thing.

But not, for some reason, Manuel.

The first thing he does whenever he comes to see me is look to see if I've got a new magazine for him to look at.

He looks at it just like it's a copy of Homes & Gardens or Martha Stewart's home-making magazine - but you can tell by the way he soon crosses his legs to hide the bulge in his pants that my porn is getting him more excited than a recipe for strawberry scones ever could.