I agreed to meet Marvin on Monday afternoon. I was to go to his apartment.
I’d just been with Hank the night before and wondered how much of this I could handle.
“Aren’t you sore?” R asked.
Marvin answered the door in lemon yellow shorts and a tank. For a 45 year old he was in fine shape. I had forgotten how huge Marvin was, so tall, such a big guy. We sat on his couch and he was sweet. He interrupted our conversation to tell me he missed me and could he “just get a hug”. I marveled at the timbre of his voice. I could see that he was a nice guy, gentle, maybe even a little wounded. I wondered if I was getting too close. I couldn’t objectify someone who I was concerned about. We undressed one another and stood there naked, kissing and touching each other’s skin. When things started heating up he took me over to his bed. He was much, much gentler this time, too gentle even. I longed for him to fuck me like he had the first time, taking me over so that I didn’t have any room for myself left.
We lay and talked for a bit. He told me about a book called “Sex at Dawn” (how we mate and why we stray). He was interested in a lot of the concepts in it. I’m always a little skeptical of people who justify promiscuity. Why explain it at all? Especially in NYC. We as a society have a lot to answer for in this department. I knew I had felt some shame and even people I trusted, N and others had asked me “why?” I was raised as a Catholic so there’s no mystery there (aside from the mystery of Jesus rising from the dead… what now?) Don’t even get me started on that. I knew that just like JC this was a great second coming for me and I didn’t need to intellectualize it to feel better or justify it to others.
Because it makes me feel good. That’s the long and the short of it.
Marvin went down on me and did something with his tongue that I can only call genius. That guy sure can give me a good orgasm. This was the reason in itself surely? Not the physical pleasure but the releasing of one’s self, to summon the beast that appears only in times of birth, and death, the thing inside us that we don’t poke too often for fear of it engulfing us, eating us whole. Well, I wanted to be eaten.