You Go Back, Jack, Do It Again

Yesterday, I thought, was GMSMA's Leatherfest, featuring the erotic art show at the Center in NYC.

Uh... No. It's next weekend.

But that's just as well, because I didn't manage to get my act together to head up to NYC to take part in the Leatherfestivities until 3:00 pm yesterday, getting me into the city at quarter of five. The hour that, one week later, will bring Leatherfest to a close.

So why did I bother?

Because I get to NYC often enough, especially during softball. But I'm always heading up for something. So I'm in a hurry, and all stressed out because I'm inevitably delayed by traffic at the Holland Tunnel, and then I go and do whatever, and afterwards, I've got just enough time to grab a latte before it's time to head home.

But what I don't get is unencumbered time. Just time to wander around without a thought in my head. Sit in some coffee place somewhere, reading, writing in my journal.

Having posted recently about the "numinous cloud of romantic possibility" that I've come to miss about NYC, I decided I need some of that. So that's what I did.

I found parking on Hudson Street, and headed for the Factory Cafe. I got a latte, found a seat in the window, and read my Buddhism book, watching the parade of men and (increasingly since I left) straight couples with baby carriages or yung'uns in tow. Sweet.

My softball coach spotted me and stopped in to chat on his way to work at Ty's. Great catching up with him. Big changes are in the offing apparently. One of our number, has been proposed to. His partner had hip replacement surgery. And he and his partner were interviewed for a segment on In The Life on same sex couples who have been together like forever. (Or as he put it, "far far far far too long." With a smile, he said that.)

Afterwards, I stopped in to visit him at Ty's, and found the early evening crowd to be enticingly toothsome. I started to feel hungry, so I headed to Go Sushi on Village Square (that's 6th Ave and Chrisopher for you outtatowners), and then decided to head to the Spiegel.

In part, I wanted to confirm a theory that the Baron and I cooked up last weekend.

Okay. Here's my theory. Those Chelsea guys! They have all these fabulous gay bars in Chelsea with amazing interiors and great drinks, and they wear their hottest clothes and head there and meet up with their friends, and talk all kinds of smack, and catch up on the latest, and laugh and comiserate, and such. But here's what they can't do at G and XL or wherever: they can't make a play for that hottie across the room. Because when you swim in the creme de la creme of NYC gay life, you never know who he might be, and you don't want to do something like make a pass and get shot down by someone who might be the client who walks into your ad agency on monday morning. So what these guys can't do is get laid. But lo and behold, this bar with all these dark corners opened up, and it's not the kind of place that Chelsea guys would go to, so of course, they all flock there. Because that's where the rules are lifted, and they might just be able to get laid.

And indeed, the Spiegel was mobbed with Chelsea guys, wearing Hollister instead of Abercrombie & Fitch right now.

But there was some leather in the place. More, in fact, than I'm used to seeing there. And, it was an unseasonably balmy night. So I headed to the roofdeck to have a cigar. I met a few guys, including one who works for none other than Roman Cool. I shared with him my nickname for his boss, and it's origins, and he concurred that it was apt.

And I ran into the delicious Booie! With whom I did the scene that almost got shut down last year at Delta. He was resplendent in rubber.

Okay. Then I noticed that on the second floor, around the pool table, it was incredibly dimly lit. I mean, if someone standing a yard away from you did the "how many fingers am I holding up" thing, you'd have a hard time with that.

Uh huh.

But, oddly, no one seemed to be taking advantage of that.

I worked my way through the crowd. The crowd of guys just standing there in the darkness. And saw this totally hot muscle guy. Inexplicably, he was wearing a wifebeater over a harness. No idea what he was thinking there, but he was so hot that he could have been wearing a Hello Kitty! tshirt and pulled it off. I positioned myself directly across from him, and for a good ten minutes, we just stood there, looking at each other.

SooOOooOOOOoooo hot.

Finally, when I crossed the four feet of space that separated us, it was instant lip lock. And touching and holding and pinching nipples and exploring down the seats of pants. He was a great kisser. He had a great touch. And his body just felt so good. So good.

I love that. In fact, just kissing and touching and holding some stranger in a dark bar is one of my favorite things about being gay.

Eventually, he called it quits. Not sure if I was being fired or whether he was just moving on or whatever, but it was cool. He said something about having to take a piss and recharge. Cool.

But, we apparently were the catalyst for all kinds of gettin' busy. Instead of standing there in the darkness, there was now this writhing, sucking, kissing throng around me. I really got off on the hot muscle daddy to my right, who was working the balls of a hot Dominican boy. The boy would say, "No, that's too much!" and the daddy would ease up some, talk him through it, and continue putting him through his paces. Great interaction! At one point, the boy was going down on him, sucking cock like a pro, and I caught the daddy's eye. He smile, and I gave him a hammy, exagerated thumbs up.

And, eventually, someone in the employ of the Spiegel figured out what was going on, and pushed his way through the throng, shining his flashlight into the darkest corners. Alas. We all kind of hung out after that, but the action never really got going again.

I definitley didn't intend to, but I ended up closing the place down, leaving at 4 am. This meant that I got home at 5:30. This meant that I was going to bed at the time when I would have to get up for work in 24 hours. And I am not a young and vigourous pup anymore!

So, as you can well imagine, today was a slow day.

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