Archive for the category Fiction

Fiction stories and poems by the Gaysi to be read by all.

241 posts

Not Anymore

Writing would help. She hastily got out of of her and grabbed a pen and paper. The words poured out instantly, as though they were desperate to be released.

He Said

It really was 'A Bad Day'. The script was haunting me. Backstage drama had reached its peak. I stormed out of the green room and walked. Simply walked. It was the eve of the performance.
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A Bad Day : An Interpretation

It was one of those busy days. As I was walking up the college driveway, I saw her walk inside the gate. She was fiddling with her phone. I tried to hide but, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Penetrate Me

Finally, after giving me, what She thought were adequate chances to respond, she held my hand firmly. Not just with love, not just as comfort but as a command, she caught my gaze and dared me to look away with her eyes. I didn’t.

The Fifth Date

We were four pitchers down. It was the fifth date. Alcohol gave her liquid courage she said. It was just verbal diarrhea, I thought.

A Cup of Tea

I share this comfortable space with you, where I don’t need to say anything, you figure it out anyway. Sometimes I rant; sometimes I don’t say a word. And you are always there with your cup of tea.

Cado

Like bumping my toe against obstructive wood, I savour the pain, instead of doing as I should. I ache and ache, But I refuse to break
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Do What Bunnies Do

I knew her inside out like an addictive YouTube video. Intimacy meant 5 Mbps and a great date was a call that didn't drop. When I kissed her, she saw emoticons.

Him

All I want is that one person. The over-rated one person. Him, who makes me feel like the half of one.
Lesbian Love

The Date That Was…

There was something about her. Something that drew me to her. The way she carried herself. Her smile. Sigh! Her smile is enticing.

Everyday

Everyday I think of you and keep wondering if you thought of me…. And if you did – what made you do so.

Who Am I?

There is no one word, To explain, There are many sides to us, Those make us one being.

What Do I Do?

What do I do when an attractive young man sits across me with his legs spread so wide that his thighs and organ strain against the fabric of his jeans?
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