A Matter of Life and Death

Headed out to the Eagle on Friday night. Still a lot of buzz in the wake of the blackout. Evvvvverybody was there. I saw Schlitz (the barrage of mixed signals continued). Ran into the Norseman. And whilst talking to various and sundry, I noticed this guy...

So the guy sits down next to me. During a lull in conversation, I said hello and introduced myself. We started talking. I felt drawn to him. Not that I believe in such things, but there was a definite energy. Something going on I didn't quite understand.

I popped the question: "Wanna take a trip to Jersey City?" He was amenable to that. We talked in the car. He was in town from Atlanta, where he had been living since April. Originally from New Jersey. As to what he did for a living, he told me that he worked at a gym making smoothies. Although, he had previously been a surgeon. But had opted for a change.

Uh huh.

Sex with the smoothie guy was pretty good. Really good. Something about him was just so hot. So compelling. I haven't been hard like I was that night since I was in my twenties.

The next morning, Saturday, I had a GMSMA mailing to go to, and then an event in Asbury Park called Leather and Leis. So I drove the smoothie guy into town. As I was dropping him off, I didn't want to say goodbye. I popped the question: "Wanna go to a mailing?" He was again amenable.

The mailing became the trip to Asbury Park, too. The trip down gave us more opportunity to talk. He had been married, and had lived with his wife and daughter not far from Asbury Park.

Leather and Leis was at a place called Paradise. In the decrepit heart of Asbury Park (What is the big deal about that doleful burg? How could anyone spend time there, unless they were sufficiently dosed with anti-depressants) some wiley entrepreneurs had purchased a decrepit hotel, done minimal renovations, and created a wee slice of Fort Lauderdale. Again, evvvvverybody was there, including Schlitz, who was meeting with his mortgage broker to buy property upstate. With... y'know, the guy who's not me.

We hung for a while, and then headed home.

The smoothie guy's story unfolded. He was in Atlanta because he was in rehab. He was starting all over.

And so we started talking about ending and beginning. Something I know a little bit about myself.

Sometimes in life, you hit a dead end. Everything is wrong. You hate your job. You hate your relationship. You hate your life. Then and there, the only thing to do is to kill yourself. To end it all.

You go running at the mountain and dive right off the cliff. Then you find that you've sprouted wings and can fly. Everything is new again.

I did that. Walking out on a man who loved me, my home, my life. Because things were so completely wrong. And now everything is new. And everything is good.

So that's it.

Once you kill yourself, you find out it's easy. That it doesn't hurt. That there's nothing to be afraid of. And I've been going and going ever since. An ongoing process. "If thy eye offfends thee, pluck it out. If thy hand offends thee, cut it off."

And this man, this sexy man... he's right in the middle of that. Taking the leap off the cliff. In mid-air. Phoenix. Perishing in the ashes, and then reborn.

We got back to Jersey City. Had dinner at the vietnamese restaurant to which cubby introduced me. I wanted us to do a scene. I would have liked to have beaten Phoenix, but I sensed that he'd been taking a beating already. A different scenario took shape.

Once back at the Humble Abode, Phoenix took a shower. I set the scene.

I had Phoenix sit squarely in the middle of the bed. I bound his wrists and his upper arms behind his back. Then I bound his ankles, crossed in front of him. And then ran the rope around his ankles and then around his neck so that he was bent forward. In submission. As I worked--slowly, deliberately--I got a little riff going... "One way of looking at bondage is me rendering you powerless, taking control. Here's another way of looking at bondage: I'm holding you. Holding you tight. Holding you the way you hold onto something precious."

When he was bound, I kissed him, and then wrapped his head in vet wrap. He had mentioned earlier that when he was nine, he got a terrific hard on watching Boris Karloff in The Mummy, being wrapped up in bandages alive. So I sort of hoped that would hit home.

And then, I sat down and watched. He squirmed. He tried to lean forward to where I was sitting. He struggled against his bonds. Then he got quiet. I moved in quickly, putting my arms around him. "I'm here. I'm here with you. I've got you, Buddy." Phoenix moaned softly, put his head on my shoulder.

I released him. Then, for the next four hours, we had pretty mind-blowing sex.


I got the phone call this morning. It was pretty handy to have a doctor (Phoenix) available to discuss it with. I dropped Phoenix off at the airport. Neither of us were happy about saying goodbye. But one of us had a plane to catch.

Before I headed down to Pennsylvania, I had to attend a party. I was invited by Hooved Goose, a friend of mine who quit his six figure salary job and moved to San Francisco where he worked answering phones in a doctor's office. Hooved Goose looked great. Really great. He loves San Francisco. He's happy like he never was when he lived in New York. Hooved Goose ran off the cliff. The party was for a woman that Hooved Goose and I used to work with. She's a lawyer. She had been a partner in the firm, handling all of the employment law cases and various and sundry other litigation worldwide. She gave it all up, went to school to become a massage therapist, and the party was to celebrate her graduation. She was radiant. She looked ten years younger than when I had seen her last. Off the cliff she went.

So here I am. In the house where I grew up. My step mother is in bed, dosed with morphine. She, too, is running up the hill. In her case, for the last time.

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