Just hand me a good idea, and I’ll set the stage and create the costumes. I’ll make it real. Such is the motto of Mason, a big back leatherman with a reputation for intense role-playing. Unfortunately, most of the bottoms in Mason’s local leather bar have cliché fantasies. They want him to play the stereotypical role of bad-ass cellmate or gangbanger. Then enters Leo—an older gent who had nothing at all to offer—not youth or good looks, or even stamina. Leo, however, has something Mason hasn’t had before—a pulpy fetish decades old and far from the usual. The Fancy Man cannot refuse such a challenge!
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“Well, Leo, I’m about to grant your wish. Whatever that wish may be.”
His hazel eyes blinked, and he took a sip of his scotch. The ice rattled in his glass and the liquor spilled over the napkin as he brought it down. “Young man,” he said faintly, “I know… I know how very out of place I am here. Please don’t make fun of me.”
“What if I’m serious?”
He shook his head as if that wasn’t possible and started to scoot out of the booth. I set my hand down on his wrist, not hard, but he froze. There was regret on his face now, and misery. He thought I was going to keep him here until I, and probably a few of my friends, finished humiliating him.
“I only torture people in the bedroom,” I told him. “Are you really going to pass this up, Leo? You came in here looking for someone to fulfill a fantasy, didn’t you? Or did you think this was just a regular bar?”
“No. I-I knew what this place was… is.” His eyes slid away. “I’ve been hoping… thinking about coming into a bar like this for decades. Decades,” he confessed with sad wonder.
“What made you finally do it?” I asked.
“My sister passed away. She was the only family I had left.”
“S’kay.” He took in a breath. “You see, when I was your age, we kept everything secret, in the dark. I was convinced that I had to wait till… till no one but me would be shamed by my conduct; by my coming to a place like this. Now it’s too late. Everything I wanted is outdated. Old-fashioned.”
Damn. How that must have been, I thought, to drift like a phantom through the world, feeling alive only in flashes, when sucking off anonymous men in movie theatres and alleys. A life like that, holding to your fantasies like childhood toys, waiting for the day when you might come out and play in the open. And then, finally, decades later, that day comes. Only, when you look around, and see all the youngsters there, you realize that you’re obsolete, archaic. No one’s going to want to play with you and your outmoded toys. The best you figure you can hope for is to gaze at bodies still fresh and firm and imagine what it would be like to play with them… and have them play with you.
Well, fuck that. Fuck if I was going to let Leo be satisfied with that.
“Come on,” I urged him, getting out of the booth and pulling gently at his arm. “You’re taking me home.”