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Story idea, based on September 10, 1963. In park, meet fellow; he walks past and walks past again and sits on bench. Before I get into the park, I see a police car pass. We sit, third cruises, goes into woods. "Do you know him?" "No." "Big star up there." "Quiet night." He reaches over and gropes. I reach over, zipper comes down, both get hard, I nervous at noise. He stands, takes it out, and I do him. He says I have a nice hand, we touch, feel chins and neck and ears. "Guess you had me a little excited." I exit through park, and cop car goes into parking lot and cop car in front of boat house: new fiction begins. He's sitting in cop car, says "That's the one," he's a plainclothesman. I say I only saw nice fellow in park and said "Big star up there." They question and I accuse fellow of lying. They strip me and see wet shorts and say I was hot, smell my mouth, semen and onions. "I didn't do anything HE didn't do first." Cops look at plainclothesman, say "Kiss him." Fun starts. He kisses, light, and we stand, then move together. Cops start, but don't stop us. We kiss, and his hands wander over my back and I brush up over gun and blue shirt (he changed into uniform) and open neck button. They start forward in real courage: "Imagine him liking a male body," but I only want to see the neck. Fingers play over ears and neck and hair and face, and cops separate us and see we're NOT erect. Cops murmur, "Wish I got that loving when I was with a woman." And so on, as they change their views, we prove our love---he remains on force and we have a glorious long clandestine affair.