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Ultimate Fantasy 60 Gay Tony Soprano

Let me begin by telling you my ultimate fantasy. A fantasy in which queers never existed. What if queers never existed? In which the experience of queer sex was as exotic, reducible, and downright criminal as any other kind of sex work. In which johns and girls in leather suits took turns fucking.

Queers are no longer a crime. We have the right to exist. We can protest, we can lobby, we can walk the streets, we can adopt a child, we can wed, we can fuck in public, we can love in private, we can bleed out on the streets. But we mustn’t become martyrs, like Che Guevara. We mustn’t become Haskins. We mustn’t become deserters.

Just one more minute. I want you to fingerbang him. I want you to rough me up. I want you to pleasure yourself while I scream. Ah, fuck it! Let’s stop fetishizing violence. Hit him, slap him, pull his hair, bite his face, gouge out his eyesocket, nose, ears, genitals, whatever it is he wants.

Now see this. If we screw up big time, there won’t be a funeral. We’ll be left alone. No one will talk about it. And no one will care. They’ll think we lost a son, that he was a lost cause. No one will say, he was a failure. He may as well have been a Gay Tony Soprano.


Do you like to have anonymous sex in public rest rooms? Sex movies? Public parks? Sex clubs? On street corners with heavy hustling traffic? How many nonsexual friendships or acquaintances lasting for decades started this way? How many ways are there to love queers? How many ways are there to queer love?

Let me begin by telling you my ultimate fantasy. . .



Prompt adapted from A Queer History of Computing

· Che Guevara, Tony Soprano, sex work, sex, queer, GPT-2, RunwayML