Fresno, November 1995
David grew up in Montana and Iowa, where gay people were assumed not to exist, except as monsters conjured up by the minister at church. He was 14 when Rock Hudson died of AIDS in 1985, and he heard all sorts of horrible things about the movie star: "filthy diseased pervert," "should have been shot," "burning in hell."
He thought "that's me they're talking about! They think I should be shot! They think I'm going to hell!"
He spent his high school years praying, reading the Bible, and working out ferociously, trying to rid himself of his "evil thoughts." He became an accomplished gymnast, and won state and regional awards. But no amount of prayer or exercise could keep him from remembering that, deep down inside, he was a filthy diseased pervert who deserved to be shot.
In college David discovered dramatics. Creating a character, becoming a whole new person! Surely that could shield him from the monstrousness of his evil. He performed in college plays, and two days after graduation moved to Los Angeles to become an actor. After only three months of auditions, he was cast as Billy, high schooler turned superhero in
Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (1993-96).
Each of the power rangers was a superhero, but they could also combine into the giant robot Megazoid, losing their individual identities for the greater good. David wished he could do that in real life, dissolve into an ocean of life where male/female, black/white, gay/straight didn't matter.
He wasn't out at work, but he must have had the Mark of Cain on his forehead, since the jokes and slurs started almost immediately.
"Why don't you have a girlfriend?"
"You looking at my butt, fag?"
"Don't you ever worry about the kids watching you prance around like a little faggot?"
"Why are you the Blue Power Ranger? Shouldn't it be Tutti-Frutti?"
David didn't participate in the gay world at all. He never set foot in a gay bar, never picked up
The Advocate or
Frontiers, never dated, just an occasional hookup to relieve the pressure, mostly from
Power Ranger groupies and sleazy older guys. Once he accepted a date with Eddie Mekka, Carmine on
Laverne and Shirley, but then he found out that Mekka was married, cheating on his wife, and called it off.
That only confirmed his belief that gay life was tawdry and sinister, that gay people were disrespectable, lurking in public restrooms, preying on kids.
He prayed a lot, and went to church, trying Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Baptist, Mormon, Pentecostal. Plus Buddhist meditation and New Age past-life regressions.
A hookup told him about an actual gay minister, out to his congregation. His name was Fred, and he lived in Fresno with his partner Matt. They talked several times on America Online.
One Saturday in November 1995, David drove 3 1/2 hours north to meet them.
Fred was in his 40s, tall, handsome, with thick brown hair tinged with gray, and very muscular: broad shoulders, thick biceps, big hands. Matt was about David's age, shorter, sandy-haired, with small, tight muscles.
"I'm many things: a polyglot, a flaneur, a bottom, a Hausfrau, but not a gym rat," Matt said. "Still, a few hours a week in the gym works wonders. Rather a sumptuous behind, n'est pas?" He grabbed David's hand and pressed it onto his butt.
David was shocked. Flirting with him, right in front of his partner? A minister?
Fred the minister was quite knowledgeable about the Bible and church history. It seems that same-sex unions were commonplace in the early days of the church, not condemned until the late Middle Ages. Today there were several Christian denominations that accepted gay people, and some gay-specific denominations, like the Metropolitan Community Church.
David had never heard of it.
"Oh, you should go, aussitôt que possible!" Matt exclaimed. "Not only is it gay-friendly, but it's packed with all of the hunks in tight jeans you could imagine!"
So among gays it always boiled down to sex, even at church.
After dinner Fred and Matt suggested that they hit Fresno's gay bars, but David claimed to be too tired. Instead they went back to the apartment and had dessert and discussed movies and church and weight-training regiments.
David was sitting on the couch with Fred and Matt on either side of him, Matt casually fondling his arm and shoulder. "But,
mon petit etalon, shall I show you my absolute favorite exercise? Parfait for the muscles of the neck and jaw..."
Before he knew what was happening, Matt had him unzipped and was going down on him.
Wait -- Fred was right there!
But it felt so right, so natural....
Soon Fred had his cock dangling in front of David's face. He opened his mouth and let the minister enter him. A man of God, sacred, spiritual, meant for a life of prayer and contemplation, his thick hard cock ramming against David's throat while his partner licked David's cock head.. He wanted this...
But it was wrong!
Later he let Fred top him while he was going down on Matt. He spent the night warm and safe in their arms, then went to church the next day, to watch the man whose cock exploded inside him last night give a sermon on compassion.
Could God have compassion on him, after last night?
On Monday morning, after the first snide comment, David walked off the set and never returned. He checked himself into an ex-gay conversion center and endured two years of aversion therapy, forced heterosexual encounters, all-night prayer sessions, a constant drug haze, and plans of suicide.
Finally he had enough. "God, this is it," he prayed. "I'm gay and alive, and I have no choice: I have to be both. So get ready, I'm coming out."
He moved to San Francisco, found a pro-gay therapist and a pro-gay church, read up on gay history, and started dating.
The first person he called was Fred.
See also:
How Matt Began Renting Himself Out
