Now one of my on-again, off-again fuck buddies who I met on the web is Tom, a Chicago transplant who lives down here in Fort Lauderdale. Of English and German stock, Tom is six feet of perfect man with long wavy hair, a close cropped beard, luxurious, light brown body fur, abs, biceps and legs that are Men’s Fitness cover material, yet all wrapped up in a natural, almost understated masculine body that rarely sees the inside of a gym because it doesn’t need to.
Tom’s Achilles’ heels? Educated, intelligent, urbane, and musically gifted, he sought no career and at 48 infrequently plays his guitar in local gigs, his main source of income after his SSI check. For behind that hot exterior is a mortal wracked with, and wrecked by AIDS. Once when I was fucking him, which he loves despite sporting a beer can dick, I had to stop because he had an attack of diarrhea right there on the bed. Not sexy.
Finally (though who knows when I will finally decide to hang up my jock strap), there was Mitch. Except for the fact he was about an inch or so taller than me at 5 foot eight, and younger, I could have been staring at myself in the mirror. Buzzed cut, balding, scruffy beard, broad hairy shoulders, lightly muscular arms, hairy chest and abs, thick thighs and calves, again all covered in fur, he was the idealization of manhood in my mind. My brother. My clone. Even though he was Jewish and I was a Lutheran, we were both, I learned later, Slovak/Russian mutts with that hint of Mongolian in the slant of our eyes. We had the kind of bodies my so-called friends would chide me were made to lay down rail road ties until I retorted I made three times the money they did.
Sadly, like Tom, Mitch led a pattern-less life. Sex, meth, gambling, meth, and more meth were his only priorities, made possible, in part, by his enabling, wealthy West Palm Beach parents. And by selling his body.
Yet, for all the problems and heartache these guys left me with, I count myself lucky. How many guys can say they’ve had a taste of their ideal man even once in their life?
Tomorrow: The Tina Fuck Diet