Monday, November 30, 2015

Edward's Hookup with an Angel or Demon

This story happened to my roommate Edward, the art appraiser I lived with in the East Village.  When I knew him, from 1998 to 2001, he was in his late 50s and early 60s, tall, husky, tanned, white-haired, slightly feminine, and eccentric.

But back in 1958, he was Eddie, a 18-year old high school boy growing up in Houghton, on the isolated Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  Not aware that he was gay yet -- not even aware that same-sex desire existed.

But he knew that he was different: he was in the drama club and the musicale, he loved painting and sculpture, and he especially loved looking at the semi-naked men in muscle magazines like Physique Pictorial.

He tried to get intimate with girls, twice.  The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.

When he graduated from high school, his father insisted that he join the military Maybe the all-male environment would make a man out of him.

He was fluent in German -- his parents fled Nazi-occupied Austria when he was four years old -- so he was stationed at an air force base near Kaiserslautern, West Germany, and given a job as a translator.



One evening his friends talked him into walking to a popular tavern on Kindsbacher Street, where they would meet some hübsche Mädchen.  He was less than enthusiastic about the prospect of Mädchen, hübsche or not, so after about an hour, he wandered off into the night.

He was not drunk -- I repeat, not drunk.

He started walking north and west, until he was on a country road, now the L363, on the way to Steinwenden.  Open fields broken by an occasional groves of trees.  There were no streetlights, but it was a clear night, with a very bright full moon.

Suddenly a shape burst up from a new field and flew across the night sky.  It swooped down so close that Edward instinctively threw himself to the ground and rolled into a ditch.

A bomb?  No.  A bird?  Maybe -- but enormous -- he estimated the wing span at ten feet.

A condor?  A hawk?  How big did hawks get in Germany?

It swooped down again, this time more slowly, its wings fanning the air.  It hovered over his prostrate body.

It was a human!  A man, about 5'5" tall, Caucasian, hairless, very muscular. His wings were like eagle wings, with feathers. They were vibrating but not flapping -- apparently he didn't need them to fly.

"How did you see such detail in the dark?"  I asked.

"The moon was very bright. But still, I couldn't see everything.  I couldn't make out a facial expression."

Edward tried to scream in terror, but no sound came out of his mouth.  The winged man hovered only a few feet over him.  His gigantic penis -- easily 10" soft -- hung down.  It was uncircumcized.

"You could tell that it wasn't circumcized, in the dark?"


Lower, lower.  Edward tried to scramble out of the way, but he couldn't move.  The fanning wings -- had they paralyzed him?  He had just seen The Horror of Dracula (1958) with Christopher Lane.  Was this a vampire, getting ready to feed?

Lower, lower. The winged man had beautifully sculpted muscles and a Kovbasa+++++.   Edward was terrified, but also aroused.  He unzipped, pushed down his pants, and displayed his own erect penis.  It was big by human standards -- all the guys at the base admired it -- but tiny compared to the winged man's.

"Wait...you said you couldn't move!"

"Who's telling this story, me or you?"

Lower, lower.  They were only inches apart.  Edward still couldn't make out a face, but he felt the winged man's penis, now erect, a rod of iron, brushing  against his legs, then pushing against him, between his thighs.  He thrust over and over and over, wordless, savage.

Edward tried to scream.  The pressure was tremendous.  But he was also elated, hot with passion for the muscles, for the penis.  He wished he could move his hands to hold the winged man, draw him close.

The winged man shuddered with an explosive orgasm.

Then, without a sound, he flew off.

Edward lay there, drenched, waiting to see if he would return.  After awhile, he finished off himself, cleaned up, and walked home.

He returned to the spot where he saw the winged man many times over the years, most recently in 1990.  But he never saw it again.

He kept the handkerchief that he used to clean himself off with, a memento of the moment he realized that he was gay.

"Wow, quite a dream!"

"It wasn't a dream.  I was wide awake.  I remember every moment."

My friend raises his glass in a toast.  "You win!  That's the best coming out story I've ever heard!"

It certainly beats my coming out over John Travolta in Grease.

"Next I'll tell you about me and the Romanian vampire-hunter...."

See also: The Football Player Who Got Unstuck In Time.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

The Beach Boy and the Giant, Part 2

Wilton Manors, September 2002

This is Part 2 of the story of the Beach Boy and the Giant.

We left everyone asleep on the night of September 22nd, 2002:

Barney is in bed with Brent, the the 6'10", broad-shouldered giant who he met at the bathhouse.

Across the hall, my other housemate Yuri is in bed with Wade.

In his bedroom off the kitchen, Boomer is in bed alone.

Just another Sunday night in the gay ghetto.

Wade lies awake, trying to think of a way to hook up with the Giant without offending Barney.

He tried for a midnight sausage sighting in the bathroom, and got Barney instead.

Maybe he could get up and "accidentally" get into the wrong bed?

No -- he has been here many times.  He knows the house too well.

He gets up, goes into the kitchen, and helps himself to some leftover rhubarb crisp.


He hears footsteps -- Barney again?  Yuri?

It's the Giant, naked except for his bikini briefs.  Wade's heart begins to beat fast, but he plays it cool and tries not to stare at the Giant's basket.

 "Want some rhubarb crisp?" he asks nonchalantly.

"Sure."  He sits at the kitchen table and grabs a plate. His gigantic hand dwarfs his fork.  "So, are you and Yuri a couple?"

"No, dude, just friends...I'm totally single," Wade says, overjoyed.  The Giant is into him!

"What about Boomer?  Is he single?"

"Um...yes.  Why?"

"Well, I shouldn't say this, right in the middle of a date, but he's totally hot, exactly my type!  Barney is nice, but -- well, I think I'm going to ask Boomer out."

Boomer?  Wade repeats, hurt, offended.

But then he comes up with a plan.  "You know, Boomer and I used to be boyfriends.  He's only into young, slim, twink types.  If you're over 30, forget it.  He was with Yuri for years, but when Yuri gets too old, he dumped him.  That's why he dumped me, too."

These are all lies, but they have the intended effect.  The Giant stares at his plate. "So I guess a guy in his 50s has no chance with him."


"Not of romancing him, no.  But there's always hooking up."

"But...if he's not into older guys, why would he want to hook up with me?"

"Ex-boyfriends always get invited into your bed."

The Giant grins.  "So if we were dating, I could spend the night with him.  But would you mind going out with me just so I could get Boomer into bed?"

"I'm willing to make the sacrifice."

"I see -- you still have a thing for Boomer yourself, right?"

So, with Wade's telephone number in hand, the Giant returns to his bed.


The Giant waits until he and Barney have settled into a friendship before calling Wade.  Then, during the next two weeks, they date four or five times, mostly to go swimming or boating, or to walk along the beach.  Everyone thinks it's an instant romance, like the ones we used to have in West Hollywood.

No one knows that the couple isn't actually getting intimate, that they end the evening with a hug-on-the-doorstep and then return to their separate apartments.

Wade doesn't mind.  He's biding his time.

Then he calls me.  "Are you free on Saturday?  I want you to come over and share the Giant."

I  hesitate -- he's not at all my type. But it's only polite, and besides, sharing the Giant would mean time with Wade, too.



Saturday, October 19th.

I drive to the Giant's small garden apartment (the front door opens directly onto the yard).

The Giant doesn't cook -- when you work in a supermarket, you can't stand the sight of food -- so we order a pizza and watch a DVD.

We are all sitting on the couch, on either side of the Giant.  He puts his massive arms around both of us.

Not at all attractive, but I'm sure he'll be enormous beneath the belt.

Suddenly the Giant envelops me in a hug and shoves his massive tongue down my throat.  I grope him. Average beneath-the-belt gifts.

We move into the bedroom.  Wade tries to go down on the Giant, but he pushes him away and grabs my head instead.

I assume that they are kissing and fondling as I work, but when I look up, Wade is lying on the bed alone.

"Is anything wrong?" I ask.

"No, no.  I just like to watch."


I move to the bed and start kissing Wade, expecting the Giant to go down on him, or to reach for a condom.  Instead he goes down on me.

And so on for the whole night.

A few days later, Barney tells me that they have broken up.

"The Giant is pretty upset.  I'm going over later to try to cheer him up.  You should come, too."

"Why me?"

"Apparently you made quite an impression the other night.  He can't stop talking about you."

It takes a few weeks for me to get the story out of Wade.

See also: The Beach Boy at the Bear Party

L

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