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My boyfriend left me because my age became too visible. We had been living together for eight years. He wanted someone else, I only wanted him. Slowly I got used to the silence in the house. In the first weeks we talked a lot on the phone, sometimes he came round. 'I'm sorry', he said, 'the feeling is gone'. He was right, the relationship had lost its warmth. He would not return.

For months I wallowed in self-pity. I locked myself up in my appartment, met and spoke with almost nobody. In the streets I watched pretty boys, their youth touched as well as hurt me. Then I was fed up with my empty existence. It was not too late yet, I didn't want to wither away. I went to bars, drank to buck me up and the following mornings I felt ashamed to wake up in unfamiliar rooms with strange men.

In the sauna I saw divinely built guys, unfortunately they didn't have an eye for me. On 06-lines I was cut-off as soon as I mentioned my age. Putting an ad might be a better method. The text: 'Male (38) wants cute boy under 30 for friendship and safe sex', yielded John's reply, a 24 year old student from Nijmegen.

May 8th: 'I'm still living with my parents and don't have much experience. I'm not into guys my own age. I'm slim and good at sports. I'm dark blond with a hairless body. I like to go about naked, but can hardly do so at home. Can I do that at your place?'

I quickly wrote back: 'I'm looking for a guy who wants real friendship. I'm more experienced than you are (I suppose) but am a bit shy, though.'
A couple of days later he was on the phone, his parents were out, now he could call from the livingroom being naked. He sounded self-assured. His voiced caused nervous tremblings. We agreed on a weekend end of May. Thinking of his coming made me restless. I thought about his naughty eyes, his smooth body and exciting smell.

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In the next letter I wrote the directions to my house and heart. 'Dear Johnny, haven't you noticed that I got all excited and nervous during our call because you were listening to me in the nude and I may look at you. I count the days. Your voice sounded very steady and under control, weren't you nervous?'

He replied: 'I was pretty horny too at the phone and really look forward to our date. But most likely I can't make it that weekend. My parents won't lend me money and I'm broke. My studentjob only pays at the end of the month. I hope to come as soon as I can, then you can put away my clothes and give them back when I leave. It really turns me on to be naked all the time.'

He hadn't cancelled our date definitely. I enclosed a fifty-guilder bill in the next letter. 'Can you make it next week fridaynight? Thinking about you when I'm outside gives me a hard-on. Do you stand naked at the window at home? Do you live in a flat, which floor? Aren't you afraid your parents may come back unexpectedly and see you like that? Kisses all over your body.'

That Friday I almost went mad with excitement. Would he take the train straight after college or first go home for dinner? I was on the look-out as from six o'clock. At nine he still hadn't shown up. Had we misunderstood each other? I waited till late in the evening. He still could come, he still could come.

A week later: 'Dear John, Were you too busy, you had problems with your parents? Will you be coming soon? I'd very much like to send your parents away so you can call me stark naked. Will I be hearing from you soon?' He didn't write, he didn't call. I should have known better, but I was desperate. For weeks I checked the answeringmachine when coming home. In vain.

Half a year later I read in the GayKrant a warning against a 32 year old guy who seeked contact with horny, hungry man through personal ads and sex-lines. He was pretty, sweet and caring and ...acted like being madly in love with his new lovers. Dozens of sugardaddy's had lost lots of money and presents to this dreamboy. Was he my Johnny? Well, at least I'd been happy for a while.

Olaf Korder

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