LITMIR.BIZ

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      COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

      Copyright © 1966, 2012 by Victor J. Banis

      Published by Wildside Press LLC

      www.wildsidebooks.com

      FOREWORD TO THE BORGO PRESS EDITION

      The books in the series, The Man from C.A.M.P., were among the earliest of the many novels I have penned. They were written in the 1960s, and they are very much a part of that exciting era when people of so many different sorts were coming out of so many different closets. Gay people were celebrating in the streets the very same lifestyle that only a few years before had engendered in many of us guilt and shame and fear, ruined large numbers of promising careers and sent many to prison.

      These books were a part of my celebration. They were written with tongue very firmly in cheek, in a few days each, with nary a thought of rewrite or polishing up some admittedly amateurish prose. They were never intended to be “literature,” and they are not. They were, however, intended to be fun.

      I think they still are.

      —Victor J. Banis

      THE MAN FROM C.A.M.P. CHECKLIST

      1. The Man from C.A.M.P.

      2. *Color Him Gay

      3. *The WATERCRESS File

      4. The Son Goes Down

      5. Gothic Gaye

      6. Holiday Gay

      7. Rally Round the Fag

      8. *The Gay Dogs

      9. Blow the Man Down

      10. Gay-Safe (not written by Victor Banis)

      Associated Titles:

      Sex and the Single Gay

      *The C.A.M.P. Guide to Astrology

      *The C.A.M.P. Cookbook

      *=Published by Borgo Press

      CHAPTER ONE

      Jackie Holmes sighed dreamily and ran one hand fondly over the expanse of naked, ivory-colored skin next to him on the bed. The ivory skin stirred, and his companion’s incredibly long eyelashes fluttered open. Lin’s bewitchingly pretty face broke into a happy smile as he saw Jackie.

      “Again?” Lin asked in the soft, musical voice that sent little darts of excited anticipation chasing one another up and down Jackie’s spine.

      Jackie beamed and nodded his head in quick agreement. “Again,” he said, moving happily into the open arms. Lin embraced him gently at first, still lethargic with the clinging sleep from which he had been awakened. Jackie’s hands, however, were busy on the silk-like smoothness of the naked flesh, making their way down the curve of the spine, fondling the delicious softness of the mounds, exploring the warm moistness of delight between them. Lin was shedding the sleep rapidly, his body stirring as it woke, his arms clinging more tightly to Jackie.

      “The flower of the backyard,” Jackie whispered as his searching fingers reached the core of Lin’s erogenous zone. Lin laughed softly at the remark. “You are familiar with Chin P’ing Mei,” he asked.

      “The Golden Lotus?” Jackie said, his fingers pleading silently for an invitation to what he suspected was an enchanted playground. “I’ve read it.” The Golden Lotus of which they spoke was one of the most notorious, and most stimulating, works of oriental erotica. The term that Jackie had used was one that came from the work, one used in connection with backward loving.

      “Then you’ll understand,” Lin went on. “If I say that the blossom waits to be plucked.”

      Jackie understood, all right, and he didn’t need a second invitation. He allowed Lin to turn, dropping to the floor and kneeling to rest his upper body upon the bed, his skin exposed and raised. Jackie admired it hungrily—the golden half moons, and nestled between them, the blossom of which they had spoken, a mere dot that looked inadequate for the size of Jackie’s ready excitement.

      “You’re too small,” Jackie said regretfully, leaning across Lin’s bent body in frustration. “It’ll hurt you too much.”

      Lin chuckled softly and wriggled an invitation. “The tiniest of buds may unfold to reveal an ample rose,” he argued. “But knock at the door, and it will open to you.”

      Jackie gladly gave up the argument, nor did he resist when Lin, impatient, reached for him and guided him to the target. He was right—the door did open to him, and there was room enough, even completely. If Lin suffered any pain, he disguised the fact well. He moaned softly with pleasure as he was thrilled to the brim, and reached behind to squeeze Jackie’s buttocks, pulling Jackie even closer.

      “There isn’t any more,” Jackie told him with a laugh. “Unless you want my arm too.”

      For an answer, Lin only quivered and began to twist maddeningly, pushing the springy softness of his buttocks back against Jackie. Jackie began to move too, slowly at first and then faster and faster as the enchanted chamber began to work its magic. It was pretty potent magic and, to Jackie’s regret, the end came all too quickly. Surprisingly, at the first convulsive spasm within himself that signaled Jackie’s finish, Lin too erupted in a burning, torrential finish, that left them both limp and exhausted.

      Afterward, Jackie held Lin happily in his arms, talking little and kissing a great deal. The morning sun, filtering through the closed draperies, told him it must be nearly noon, but he was in no hurry to get up. In fact, it was just beginning to look as though they were ready for still another round when the phone rang.

      He frowned in annoyance, the hand that had been feeling around at Lin’s legs pausing. It would be easy to ignore the jangling bell, and take advantage of the growing tenseness in his hand.

      The telephone seemed to be louder and more insistent with each ring. Jackie sighed and let go of Lin to reach for the receiver.

      “Jackie?” It was a woman’s voice, high pitched and rather tremulous. Jackie recognized it at once.

      “Aunt Lily,” he said, pleased to hear her voice despite the fun she had interrupted. “I haven’t heard from you in ages. Where are you?”

      “Oh, I’m at home,” she explained. “In Washington. But I was wondering—is there any likelihood that you’ll be coming by this way?”

      It seemed to Jackie rather a nonsensical question. He was in Los Angeles, where he ordinarily lived, and Aunt Lily was all the way across the country, in Washington, D.C.

      “I hadn’t planned on seeing you today,” he answered. “Why, is there anything the matter?”

      “I don’t know,” she said in a sober tone of voice. “I could be mistaken, but I somehow think we’ve stumbled upon something. It seems to be a message of some sort....”

      “A message?” Jackie’s attention quickened. “What sort of message?”

      “I don’t know, exactly,” she admitted. “It’s in some sort of code. But there is a little drawing at the bottom, almost as if it might be a signature.”

      “Can you describe the drawing?”

      “Oh, quite easily. It’s plainly a butterfly.”

      Jackie caught his breath sharply—a coded message, signed with a butterfly. Aunt Lily was right—unless he was very mistaken, she had indeed stumbled upon something—maybe something extremely big.

      “It’s a long story,” she was saying.

      “Save it until I get there,” Jackie said quickly, interrupted her. “I should be there sometime this evening, if I can get a reservation.”

      “Oh, how wonderful. I’ll have tea ready,” Aunt Lily gushed.

      Lin was sitting up by the time Jackie finished the conversation, looking rather disappointed. “You will have to go out?” he asked.

      “Way out,” Jackie agreed. “All the way to Washington, D.C.”

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