My Big Fat Gay Life (41 page)

“As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?” I asked Matt as I spooned him mouthfuls of his lunch.

“A fireman,” he replied, swallowing his jelly.

“Seriously?” I questioned, looking for signs of deception or sarcasm in his face.

“Totally,” he responded. “I couldn’t think of anything better to do with my life than save people.”

“So there was a time you actually wanted to care for people? How did you go from wanting to care for them, to wanting to hurt them?”

“I didn’t plan to hurt people,” he said. “I have a lot of time to think while I’m lying here, and I know I have an anger management problem. But I do actually like caring for people.”

“Your problem extends way beyond simple anger management. It’s an almost psychopathic manipulation and intimidation of people to get what you want.”

He just looked at me.

“OK,” I continued. “It’s textbook psychopathic behaviour. I was sugar coating it.”

“True. As a child I didn’t like being told ‘no’. I guess in future I’ll have to learn to accept it. I can’t exactly threaten or cajole in my current state.”

Psychotherapy isn’t always about the huge epiphany: the huge leap forward in thinking or the giant step on the path of self-development. Sometimes you find yourself crawling along the path of self-development without even being aware of it, almost against your will.

“Did you notice that?” I asked him.

“Notice what?” He had a puzzled expression on his face.

“You referred to your future. You don’t want to die anymore. You can see a way ahead.”

“Bullshit,” he blurted. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

I just smiled and picked up his sipping cup for him to take a drink.

* * *

That evening I went to dinner at Ruth and Justin’s flat. Spending time with Kyra helped the time pass, distracting me from the boredom and banality of my life.

“What are you doing with yourself these days?” Ruth asked me during dinner.

Oh, I don’t know. Having meaningless sex with random strangers. Trying to wade through the mess that’s inside my head.

“Looking for inspiration,” I replied. “Assessing my options.”

“Are you looking for another job?” she pressed on. “You seem to be at a loose end since you resigned from Rainbow’s End.”

“Not yet,” I responded. “I just don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.”

They both laughed, thinking I was making a joke. In actual fact, I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do with my life.

“What do you think of Justin’s new job?” she questioned me.

“What job is that?” I looked at Justin.

“I dance on the podium three nights a week at Ruby Slippers,” he said, smiling broadly. “I love it! I get to flaunt my exhibitionist side, and in a totally safe and harmless environment.”

“And he brings home way more cash than he ever did cleaning,” Ruth said.

“I’m working tonight,” Justin said. “You should come check it out.”

After dinner we sat on the sofa. I held Kyra in my arms, gazing down at her lovingly. Her tiny perfection fascinated me.

“I’m going to do the dishes,” Ruth said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen.

“Let me help,” I said, without any real conviction.

“No it’s OK. You boys chat.”

After Ruth had left the room, I looked at Justin.

“I haven’t had a decent conversation with Ruth since Kyra was born,” I told him. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine,” Justin responded. “She seems a little flat and tired sometimes, but otherwise good. We’re lucky - Kyra’s a good baby.”

“Pleased to hear it,” I said, smiling. “And how are you doing?”

“I’m great!” he exclaimed. “Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

“Does Rory come and play the doting Uncle?” I asked.

“Yeah, he pops by regularly. He never seems to stay long, but he’s here most days.”

“And you’re enjoying dancing at the club?”

“I love it! I’d make a lot more money if I were willing to put out though. Some of the offers I get are HUGE!”

We both laughed.

“Sometimes a wandering hand goes where it isn’t welcome, but if the worst thing I have to worry about is a fingernail scratch, then I can’t complain.”

“You’re a busy man these days. Between the Rape Crisis Centre, your counselling studies, Ruby Slippers, and your modelling classes, when do you find time to spend with your family?”

“It sounds busy, but it’s not. Most things I can do to my own schedule, and although it sounds like a lot of things, I probably dedicate less time to it all than someone else would spend at a fulltime job.

“Speaking of which, I have to go. I’m hosting a group session at the crisis centre, then I’m off to shake my money-maker at the club.”

After Justin left I spent a few delightful hours playing with Kyra. Ruth didn’t talk very much, which was probably a good thing. She knows me so well: if I’d said anything even slightly revealing she’d instantly know just how black the darkness I felt was.

After she’d cleaned the dishes and folded her laundry, Ruth came and took Kyra off me to feed her. She sat on the sofa and teased her breast out of her bra, and Kyra started suckling contentedly.

“Donovan’s doing well,” she observed. “I went to see him today and was thrilled with his progress!”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I agreed. “He may even make a full recovery in time.”

“How’re things going with Matt?” she asked me.

“He’s making progress too,” I replied. “Slowly and reluctantly, but progress it is.”

* * *

After I left Ruth’s flat, I turned left and started walking home. I didn’t pay attention to my surroundings as I meandered along, and when my feet stopped moving I looked up to find I was outside the gay sauna. It made sense in a way: it felt like my second home these days.

Inside the sauna, I sauntered through the darkened areas upstairs. I was looking for a distraction, something to take my mind off the dark mood I was in. Eventually I saw a familiar figure, someone I’d dealt with quite frequently of late. Without a word, I stepped up to him and slipped the twenty-pound note I had in my hand into his. In return, he silently passed me a little clear plastic bag with some pills in. I walked off, opening the bag and taking out two of the pills. Ecstasy tablets helped. If my mind couldn’t decide what to think, then I didn’t want to think anything.

I went to the bathroom and swallowed the tablets with a handful of water, then made my way to the steam room to rest until they kicked in. Eventually the blackness lifted and I felt I could see more clearly, despite the steam. My cock wasn’t hard yet, but I could feel the blood waiting to rush into it at a moment’s notice.

Going back upstairs, I went into a room with a gloryhole partition. I stepped behind the partition and poked my cock through the hole, and then I waited. Judging by the amount of customers in the sauna and the parade of shuffling feet along the corridors outside, I wouldn’t have long to wait.

Before too long, I heard someone enter the room. Footsteps came closer, and I felt a hand grasp my cock. It grew hard in their grasp, and I heard an appreciative gasp. The gasp only made it grow harder and bigger. Without a word, the person on the other side of the partition dropped to their knees and started sucking on my cock. It felt good, however my cock felt numb. It’s a side effect of the pills I guess. It’d take a lot to blow my load with just a slobbering mouth working me over.

As though they’d heard my thoughts, the cocksucker suddenly stopped. There was a bit of noise, and then the hand grabbed my cock again. I felt a condom being rolled over it, and then I heard the tearing of a lube packet. Lube was applied quickly to my hard cock. A truly hard cock in a place like this sauna was not to be wasted: most cocks that claim to be hard are – at best – semi flaccid.

There was a noise of scuffling and movement, and then I felt pressure on the head of my cock. The hand guided my tip to their arsehole, and I was surprised at the resistance. Most guys I fuck in the sauna are loose, but this guy was tight! After a bit of groaning and effort, I felt his sphincter give way and my cock slid into his welcoming hole. He gasped, and I felt a shudder run through his body.

He was motionless and silent for a few moments, and then he started riding my cock. Slowly at first: very slowly. Then the tempo increased, matching his grunts and pants. Each time he lowered himself onto my cock, he gasped. It felt good: the guy was tight! I was actually enjoying the sex for a change. Soon – way too soon – I felt more shudders run through his body, and he yelled: a primal cry of lust fulfilled. Then he removed himself from my cock, leaving me wanting more.

I pulled my cock back through the gloryhole and whipped off the condom, then stepped out from behind the partition to find a rubbish bin. A figure was crouched on the floor on the other side of the gloryhole, and as I emerged from behind the partition he looked up at me.

“Rory!?” I exclaimed.

Anna had just finished my morning torture session, also known as physical therapy, and I was sitting in my chair with my eyes closed when I heard a tap on the doorframe. I opened my eyes to see Patricia standing in the doorway.

“Hello, my love,” I croaked, attempting to smile at her.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

“Of course,” I replied, motioning with my good arm for her to come in.

She walked across to my bed and started fluffing the pillows. Then she started tugging on the sheets to smooth them out.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked her. “You don’t do beds.”

She turned to face me, then leaned against the side of the bed. From the look of anguish on her face, I instantly knew something serious was troubling her.

“What is it?” I was full of concern.

“I don’t know where to start,” she said.

“The beginning is always a good place,” I said, smiling to put her at ease.

She sighed and looked at the ceiling.

“Do you remember that escort, Ryan, that I brought to your hospital room?”

“Oh boy, do I ever!” I chuckled. “That boy’s hung like an elephant’s trunk.”

“I saw him again,” she stated, casting her eyes to the floor.

“I see.” I was silent for a few moments, trying to make eye contact with her. “How many times?”

“Lots.” She raised her eyes and finally met mine. Tears were welling up in them.

There were many questions I wanted to ask. Was the sex meaningless? Did you meet at hotels or his place? Do you love him? However, the fact that she felt the need to come and confess to me supplied all the answers I needed.

“It’s OK,” I said, holding out my arm to her. My words belied the anguish and pain I was feeling in my heart. “There’s no need to get worked up.”

She fled across the room and threw herself into my arms. She had her eyes shut tight, trying to fight back the tears.

“I love you,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she continued.

“I know that too.” I stroked her hair with my good hand.

“I’m so confused,” she said, “and I’m so sorry!”

The dam finally broke and tears rolled down her cheeks. I wiped one away with my thumb and smiled at her.

“It’s understandable,” I told her. “I can’t fulfil all your needs, so you have to get them fulfilled somewhere.”

“It’s not just sex,” she said. “I wish it were. This’d be a whole lot easier.”

“I can see that.”

We were silent for a few moments. Her tears stopped and her cheeks dried up, but her eyes were red and full of confusion.

“Do you think that now I can talk again, I’ll be able to fulfil more of your needs?” I eventually asked her. I realised that my muteness had given her nobody to talk to for several months. I may not be able to give her physical intimacy, but now that I’d regained my voice I hoped we could become vocally intimate again.

“I don’t know,” she responded, standing up from my engulfing hug and wiping the back of her hand across her nose.

“What do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure,” she responded. “I’m so confused.”

“Whatever happens, my little hell demon, I don’t want to lose you. I want you in my life in some way,” I assured her, grasping her hand to show my sincerity.