Plains, Friday, January 13th, 2017
It's my second date with Wagner the Music Major, who I picked up in the Student Union earlier this week. We're seeing Hairspray at the University Theater -- in the first row, of course. I always sit in the first row, when possible.
At intermission I look around the audience. No one I know, which seems strange -- I know lots of theater buffs.
Then suddenly, about 10 rows back, I see Kevin the Vampire!
"That's impossible!" I exclaim.
"What?"
"My old boyfriend from San Francisco. I haven't seen him since -- um, 2003. Nearly 14 years ago. What would he be doing here?"
I look back again. No Kevin.
When we met in San Francisco in 1996, Kevin the Vampire was in his 30s, tall and
buffed, with pale skin, a hairy chest, and a Satanic goatee. We dated for almost a
year, although I didn't care for his elitism, his smoking, or his
exhausting bedroom calisthenics.
"Why do you call him Kevin the Vampire? Did he like biting you on the neck?"
"No,
but he had weird paranormal powers. He could control people's minds..
He could get hookups by going up to a cute guy and saying ''You want to
come home with me, don't you?'"
"That's a nice power to have," Wagner says.
"And
he could make himself invisible. You couldn't drop by for a visit --
if he wasn't expecting you, his apartment was impossible to find. But
he wouldn't just show up on the Plains."
I've been posting stories about him on my blog, most recently in December. Could that have summoned him?
No -- just my imagination!
After the musical, as we are walking out to the parking lot, Kevin is suddenly standing beside me! He doesn't walk up -- he just appears, like Jesus on the road to Emmaus.
"Um...hi, Kevin," I say, pretending to be nonchalant. "Nice to see you again."
It's been nearly 14 years, but he doesn't look any different. I guess vampires don't age.
"Wonderful to see you, too, Boomer!" He wraps me into a hug. His body is cold, as if he's been running around outside without a coat. "You have no idea how difficult it was to track you down! Florida to Ohio to Upstate New York to Philadelphia, and now to this charming little town on the Plains."
"Why didn't you just get my email address from David?"
"And who is your very attractive companion?: Kevin asks, ignoring my
question. "If this is an example of the beefcake on the Plains, I'll be
scanning the real estate ads!"
"Beefcake is very common here, and readily available."
He shakes hands with Wagner. "How long have you and Boomer been an item?"
"This is our second date."
"Oh, my, the second date, a pivotal moment in a new romance! I wouldn't dream of interfering. Boomer, let's meet tomorrow to catch up. I'll be at your apartment at -- say 10:00 am?"
And he vanishes. He doesn't walk away -- he's just sort of not there.
"I see what you mean," Wagner says. "Appearing and disappearing like that is kind of creepy."
"But fun," I say with a bit of sad nostalgia.
Saturday, January 14th
Kevin appears at my apartment at 10:00 sharp. I take him to the gay-friendly coffee house for brunch -- vegetarian quiche for me, only coffee for him. Vampires don't eat.
He is noncommittal about what he'd been up to since 2003. "Oh, I puttered around, bought books, went to beer busts, invited men into my bed. You know what life was like in Gay Heaven: we were busy all the time, but nothing really happened. Every moment was an eternal now."
"So...what do you want to do during your visit? Anything special you'd like to see? Want me to arrange a hookup for you? I know some guys, or I can go on Grindr."
"Sampling the cornfed beef of the Plains? That does sound tempting, but I'd really rather have some time alone with you. After all, our relationship was one of the most important in my life -- perhaps the most important -- and I couldn't bear the idea of shuffling off this mortal coil without holding you in my arms again. If Wagner doesn't object, that is."
I know Kevin -- no quick blow jobs for him! Exhausting two hour sessions involving weird oils, massage, licking and sucking everywhere, Tantric edging, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, leaving you drenched with sweat and other fluids, ruining the sheets.
But he has mind control powers. How can I refuse?
We spend the day sightseeing and cruising, have dinner with some gay guys from the Unitarian church, and then return to my apartment. We go into the bedroom and start kissing and fondling.
I kneel and go down on Kevin -- he's bigger than I remember, a Bratwurst+, cold and hard as iron. Then he pulls me onto the bed. He lies atop me, chest against chest, thigh against thigh, mouth against mouth. His body is cold and hard, too. His aroused penis goes between my legs.
Interfemoral -- my favorite position! We never did this while we were dating!
He puts his arms around me and thrusts while we kiss, his tongue darting in and out of my mouth. I grab his butt. We finish at the same moment.
Apparently Kevin is still the same age as he was in 1996, but I'm 20 years older, and one orgasm per evening is enough. I soon fall asleep.
Sunday, January 15th
When I wake up, Kevin is gone. No note, no phone number, nothing. He vanished.
I feel a little frisson of dread. Did I imagine the whole thing?
No -- the sheets are definitely soiled with bodily fluids.
Wait -- what life "was" like in Gay Heaven. It "was" an important relationship. Shuffle off the mortal coil. Cold skin. Vanishing even more abruptly than when we were dating...
Was Kevin a ghost? A ghost vampire?
I rush to my computer and start emailing people. David. Zack. Kevin's ex-boyfriend Seth. His former best friend Marius.
The responses trickle in. No one has seen Kevin or talked to him in years.
Desperate, I think of the number Marius gave me in 2003. It didn't work then...
I find it in my old address book, and call.
This time it works -- Kevin answers! "Boomer, what a surprise! Did I leave my underwear in your apartment? I've just arrived back in San Francisco, so I'm afraid you'll have to keep it as a souvenir."
"Um...no, no. I was just wondering...you left so abruptly... if you were angry or upset."
"Oh no, not at all. I simply had a plane to catch! Well, there's the BART. It was wonderful seeing you again -- I'll be sure to stop by the Plains next time I'm flying across the country."
Kevin is not a ghost. He's not a vampire. He's just an ordinary guy, a bit eccentric, like everyone lucky enough to live in Gay Heaven.
Or maybe....
See also: Desperately Seeking Kevin the Vampire.; The Sunday Morning Orgy; I Go Home with the Amazing Invisible Boy.
No, Kevin didn't ask for my address. He just showed up.
ReplyDeleteYeah, that's one thing about the plains. Farm boys mean potential beefcake. Better if you have enough water on your property. (As a boy, I would swim with my friends in a small pond. This continued until that last summer. I imagine a bunch of grown men wouldn't have to hang their shorts on a low branch.)
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