Welcome To My Candy Store - 1

Ezekiel Krahlin's
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Welcome To My Candy Store - 1
12.25.07 (7:31 pm)   [edit]

Part 1: spenser.jpg

Above photo: I just discovered my latest handsome dude on the 'net, to add to my "Cute Guys" SubSubSubFolder: His name is Spencer, a student at Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut. Found his image on a photo blog: "The Blonde Excuse". Holding him, kissing him (sometimes w/passion, sometimes affection) all through the cold, wintry night beneath my angel comforters (storm howling outside): My kinda XXX-mas Eve! In my All-Boys-&-Nothing-BUTT Candy Store, he'd be sumptuous, extra-large Milky Way or Snickers candy bar! Melt-on-my-tongue goodness, every time I taste and lick whatever body part turns me on at the moment!

Amazingly, his countenance is SO similar to my street buddy David (NOT homeless, just part of the Castro street scene), though approx 25 years younger. David is an abundantly handsome and sweet natured man, one of the rare hirsute individuals that rings my chimes. But because of his addiction to speed, OxyContin, crack, and goddess knows what else chemical, I keep a PSYCHOLOGICAL distance from him. Besides, he is somewhat CONTROLLED by this Chinese-Amerikan homo owner who I never had the displeasure to meet (except once, recently, and let me tell you it was NO treat).

David DOES have serious lower-back pain, which OxyContin, speed etc. helps relieve...I forgive him all that.

But because he is such a BIG (albeit DARLING) man, and I only get to see him SPORADICALLY, I hesitate re. getting TOO close to him. One day several years ago, while fixing us both some tea, and me standing within inches of his face (as he sat on my bed while I tended the microwave), he muttered several words almost indistinguishable. Arms resting on spread-out legs so close I was almost standing between them (though facing the other way)...(his) head lowered and cocked slightly to one side: in his darlingly DEEP, baritone-frosty voice that TINGLES my ear drums:

"C'mon, whip it out buddy."

I pretended to NOT comprehend his sweet invite, and continued fussing with food prep. Four years or so later, I regret my unresponsive maneuver, but I'm NOT a day person, and I AM on the shy side (or at least, WAS until quite recent). For just eight months ago when he showed up at my gate, I was QUITE the vixen, and attempted to seduce him every which-way possible. He was a NoThanksBuddy in every way but one: I got him to slide a middle finger up my anus, while I kicked back, whacking off with my legs sprawled across his own denim-cloaked thighs. DEFINITELY a steamy intermezzo. Though it seems that, since then, his Chinese-Amerikan overlord keeps a tight reign over David's associations. Which obvously excludes me from the picture.

I don't mean to deceive you, Dear Reader. (Though I DO hope to embarass! And if you're a 'phobe, ANTAGONISE.) It's not that David isn't attracted to me and doesn't give some of the NICEST kisses and bear hugs I've ever received. Plus, this is the ONE and ONLY time we've ever come close to "boner fide" (heh) sex. He smiled endearingly throughout my entire ploy to seduce, didn't even push me away gently (just interacted differently than I had hoped). Sadly, he seemed more interested in his speed or crack, than in making out. He even swore up and down, left and right, that we'd have really HOT sex together, if I smoked some crack with him! I refused, and thus the (rather happy) compromise.

Let me tell you: I'm totally DOWN on fist fucking. (By that I mean AGAINST, seeing as current lingo has reversed numerous negative-intent words. Like "bad" is really good, and "get down" means "dig it".) But GOOSING (finger fucking)? I like that, if your fingernails are clipped real close to the quick, and you have those MASCULINE hands. A workman's hands: rough with THICK (not stubby) fingers. Well, lemme tell you: David's hands are PERFECTLY suited to my desire! Not only did feeling his middle finger (slick w/aloe vera gel) slide up and down my tight rectum turn me on BIG TIME: I absolutely ADORE his touch, those strong, rough hands, ANYWHERE on my person! It feels god-damn RIGHTEOUS.

It was HOT, but not the intense reciprocation I had expected. Since then, I've only seen David once, accompanied by his monied Asian-Amerikan slave owner, whose name I do not know, nor care to know. David is MINE in the long run, he numbers among my most DEARLY BELOVED, who shalll NEVER be relegated to bulliness and submission to ANYONE! My crotch was within MILLIMETERS of his face (though zipped up) when he spake thus...but VICTORIAN little ole me freaked out a bit, and pretended he spoke something else a tad LESS provocative.

He gives the most AMAZINGLY passionate hugs in the world! First he'll hunker down a bit ('cause he's tall and I'm not), knees bent and BRACE himself against the wall (due to a pained lower back). Arms outstretched and curved, ready to contain me in all his friendly wishes. He'll lift me up a bit as we kiss (he loves my neck bites BTW), and through his loose-fitting Levi's, I feel that chubby, cut wanger (5 inches when deflated, wow...I guess 8 or 9 when NOT...but when's the last time THAT ever happened?)...that plump rubber BISCUIT press against my left thigh. His sturdy frame wrapped around mine, heartbeat against my ear. Pectorals to die for! (I cop a few licks just before His Release.) Tiger cub in The Lion's embrace!

Now THAT'S a sexy hug! Did I mention yet, how HANDSOME is David? A thick mop of the most wonderful, curly golden-brown hair I've ever seen. And baby-fine! For a time, he wore his locks sorta long, down to his chin. Such lovingly curled, bunched strands of hair halo-ing the face of a seraph! Did people stop dead in their tracks to GawkAdmire? Yes they did! He was THAT stunning. Thick, elegant eyebrows that nobly grace a broad forehead and countenance. And the most SCINTILLANT deep, crystal-blue eyes. As I suggested earlier, amply-haired men usually are NOT my cup o' tea. There are only several exceptions in my life, thus far...all but David being One Knight Stands. (Strange term that, as how much STANDING really goes on?) He's about 50 now, graying, and a little obese albeit STILL knock-down gorgeous! We've been friends for how long now? Oh, I'd say eleven years.

I first met David at that tiny Wash Day Blues laundromat on Hattie & Market. Presently boarded up.

It was evening, around 9pm. I was restless, needed a break from my online activism, so took a stroll down 18th Street going west, then up Hattie. First time I gazed upon David: through a plate glass window frosted by a damp fog. What a magnificent specimen of GayManhood, I thought. Remarkably HANDSOME face, and burnished-brass ringlets of hair so alluring I almost smashed through the window in my sudden urge to touch them! He was with another male, a diminuitively unappealing fem in whom I had absolutely NO interest. They were smoking methamphetamine through a glass pipe.

SMACKED in the face by a double-negative-whammy before I even say boo! Still, his beauty was such that NOTHING would stand in my way.

Entered and found a plastic seat, dropped my backpack to the floor. "Hey guys. Hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just need to rest my feet a moment."

The twink sneered and looked away, towards David...who PUSHED him aside to acknowledge my presence. Great Jehovah's Jism, that smile! Those sparkly sapphire eyes! Those eyebrows! Those excellent brave hands. Shoulders of divine proportion! Yellow shirt half unbuttoned to partly reveal the Most Lickable Pecs in the Cosmos! He looked directly at me, the face of a young Thor. Beamed a smile like the sun's first ray burst through a dark cloud.

"Hey buddy. No problemo," he chuckled. (Oh, that voice: MAGNIFICO! I shiver enrapt. LoveAtFirstSight is my favorite delight.) David whose name I didn't yet know extended an arm, which hand held the glass pipe. "Here, take a hit!" (The "male" lookalike to Phyllis Diller didn't seem too pleased.)

"Oh, no no. I only smoke pot. And once in a blue moon, imbibe."

Cupcake interrupted: "C'mon Dave let's go outside. It's getting stuffy in here."

David ignored him once more, and beckoned me: "Join us!"

I hanged out with David and No One Special a half hour or so, on someone's steps a half block up Hattie, under a spreading walnut tree. Found out he likes to hang at the Pendulum, so now I have a hook. Though at that time I was in NO mood to commence my next bar cycle (which occurs about once every 4-5 years, lasts about 6-9 months).

Three weeks passed before I found David at the Pendulum, even though I'd been strolling past it DAILY, several times each afternoon. He was standing out front, smoking a cig and leaning against the open front door. His eyes lit up (oh there I go again, keep me tethered to the ground, please), this time ran forward and before I could take my next breath, found myself in a glorious embrace! Felt his hefty joystick pressing down on me, right through those khaki-camouflage pants. For the first time, we kissed.

And I touched his hair, at last! What gentle radiance through my fingers! I turned my face to nuzzle the crook between neck and shoulder. Licked his collarbone and the recessed skin just above, then luv-bit his neck. O My Goddess Does David taste fine! His baby-soft locks covered the left side of my head, I inhaled the lingering fragrance of carnation and tobacco arising from those burnished curls. A softpack of Camels slightly crushed between our pectorals.

Heaven, when it happens, is always FAR better than even I, a highly CREATIVE and INTELLIGENT author, could ever POSSIBLY imagine. David gave me his soul, his heart, his embrace, his kiss, his laughter, his cocky rubs, his gracious attention...that I could KNOW this.

But then, weeks and weeks passed, with no David. Did he move away or what? I finally started frequenting the Pendulum as CUSTOMER, since I was determined to see my David again no matter HOW long it took! On my disability income, that's quite a sacrifice. I really can't AFFORD drinks. Well, did you know I attended the Pendulum for SIX WHOLE MONTHS before David finally returned? What a test! I was SO happy to see him again. Our friendship then took off, though problems aplenty continued. I eventually let him know of my long vigil at the Pendulum, hoping and praying I'd see him again. He really was charmed by that.

I HOPE he's alive and well, and my thinking of him so POWERFULLY this Xmas day is NOT because he passed on, his spirit come to love me. But two years ago, he spoke of heart ailment diagnosis and having to see doctors more often. All those illegal drugs he took/takes! And tobacco! Guess I should be glad that ALCOHOL is not part of the mix.

I never had many chances to tell David how much I love him. Because drugs got in the way. And my relative poverty. How could I expect him to leave the material comfort of his Asian master, to be with me? I couldn't provide for him, he'd wind up homeless. There was also the time, about six years ago, when he muttered something about "bashing faggots". I couldn't believe my ears, yet I think he spoke those two words AGAIN a few moments later. While we were strolling through Harvey Milk Plaza on our way to a round of pool at the Pendulum. My heart broke, and I avoided him for three years, during which time he moved on and stopped buzzing me at the front gate.

Had no idea for a time, how to approach him on this. Homophobia is a WICKED curse, with little one can do to change a person. Best answer is to walk away from him and NEVER look back. David's different from you or me. He cannot survive in this world independently, through no fault of his own. IOW, he NEEDS a sugar daddy to provide. Like so many OTHER men I love (most of whom are homeless or WERE when we first met), lack of material resources has proven an unboundable wall.

When I finally spoke to David about why I avoided him so long, he was shocked and grieved that I could EVER think he'd speak like that. I tried to explain that perhaps his mind was somewhat controlled by outside forces, but he seemed NOT to grasp the concept. So I dropped it and renewed our friendship, however sporadic it's been ever since. Next time I see him, IF there is a next time (and I sure hope so), I know EXACTLY the words to touch his heart forever. EVEN if he does not reciprocate, I want him to know what is in MY heart, regarding our friendship. He has always called me a righteous man, in the presence of others. Stating that I'm the BEST buddy on the planet. (Which unfortunate side effect INSPIRED some to plot my demise, and separation from David. Jealousy is my constant nemesis.) I'm afraid that even I did not quite grasp David's message, thus did not handle it as well as I ought. Life's all a big learning lesson, ain't it?

So it isn't JUST the drugs that are problematic, though that one alone suffices to repulse me forever, in MOST cases. Being a street minister FOR my gay brothers, though, requires of me a more forgiving and open-minded attitude. For I HAVE met (and still do meet) absolutely WONDERFUL men who by sad coincidence happen to be addicts. Yet I have also NOT found such depth of soul, sweetness and sheer BEAUTY among my brothers who do not indulge in illegal substances, or do not possess a tragic element of some OTHER kind. I understand PERFECTLY my nature...has nothing to do with codependency or low self-esteem. Though that's what others might claim, especially Zodiac Disciples who'll say ANYTHING to wreck a good man's life, friendships, and lovers. (And career, and freedom, and health, and etc.)

Goddess CREATED me to be a natural lover of the downtrodden in our queer community. I'm doing nothing wrong, and everything right! For there shall soon come a reckoning of my good works. Bless-ed result will be the RETURN of all those lovely angels in my difficult (but worthwhile) life. And they shall all be HEALED of whatever curses burdened them for so terribly long. And KNOW it is ME more than anyone else, has courageously guided them through their own personal hells to a MUCH better existance. When they suffer, I suffer. Not because I'm a "love addict," but because each man I grow endeared to means the world to me FOREVER! Whether or not even I mySELF don't like it.

Besides the barricades of addiction and poverty, there is ANOTHER significant contributor to the demise of my relationships thus far: The Disciples Of The Zodiac Killer. Once they get their hooks in you, they NEVER let go, unless somehow you can finally figure a way to get that twisted monkey off your back. For almost 23 years, they've dogged my every step, wrecked my every boyfriend and MOST if not all of my friendships and even friendly acquaintances! They'll do whatever it takes to destroy my sorely desired buddies. Drive 'em insane, usually with toxic substances. Kill them with drug overdose or hit and run, send them off to prison on false witness, where they'll get raped and beat to death (or at best come down w/AIDS). Turn them against me with wicked gossip...some of my loves have even threatened or STRUCK at me as a result!

With beloved David, they made sure he'd stay HOOKED on drugs. And his Asian owner is no doubt a cult member himself, assigned to keep David AWAY from me, for good. (They're certainly NOT beyond killing him, just to see me squirm. I trust Goddess that will not happen.) I have also concluded that his seemingly homophobic mutterings were a telepathic IMPLANT by my enemies. You see, under the influence of mind-enfeebling hard drugs, you become HIGHLY vulnerable to their cleverly wicked astral communique. Being so out of it, you don't even REALIZE what you just said. You are USED by the cult, like ventriloquist to dummy!

I didn't know as much back then as I do now, how they operate. Thus they forced my hand, and the only answer for me was to NEVER see David any more! Whilst they made David believe I'm a BAD person, 'cause I rejected him for no good reason.

Is there a God? Yes. Is God compassionate? Yes. Then why this hell I've been put through? Why this HELL for so many others? Evil exists to test our mettle, to give each of us many chances to resist temptation...and in so doing, become heroic. Evil also teaches us compassion. The End Game has already begun. This time around, I make SWEEPING VICTORY AFTER SWEEPING VICTORY. My prayers for David have been heard...of course! Since NO worthy wish or prayer goes unanswered in the long run. David's memories of all the kind things I've said to him, and my loving embraces etc. will soon click in as all the jigsaw pieces come together to reveal The Big Picture. Which BTW has a title:

David is Beloved to Zeke and Vice Versa

It is also David's broadly gregarious behavior that has forced me to keep my distance. For one, whenever we play Frisbee he insists on tossing the disc on busy intersections and other areas that would inevitably draw the police department's attention! For example; the last time we played Frisbee, was fifteen months ago at the South Park Marina. David peeled his T-shirt to reveal a most GLORIOUS torso and solid, WELL defined pecs. His arms, plumply muscled. But he kept INSISTING I toss the frisbee in such a manner, he'd have to retrieve it from the bay, dive into the pollluted Marina with all its ships, barks and yachts docked quayside. That was when I discovered how much he loves to swim, and how ATHLETIC his nature.

FYI: The background in that frisbee image is a SHIRT left behind by (another) David, the good Samaritan who rescued me from where I lay in a pool of blood December 23, after being cold-cocked. To read that episode, click here.

IOW; every athletic action on the part of My Belovd David would likely attract the police....which I could NOT afford. (He's like a big ol' friendly golden retriever: needs the grand outdoors and LOTS of acreage to run around. Dense urban areas are BAD: rules, regulations, restrictions, DANGEROUS automobiles everywhere. My pup DESERVES better, so I pray.) Yet at one point, as we strolled along the stadium promenade, a professional batter (whose name I do not recall, I'm not a fan of big sports) struck a baseball over the topmost bleachers and into the chilly, SF bay water! David, now stripped of his Metallica T-shirt, rid his shoes and dived in!

And, well, this is interesting. Just a few days ago, I found an Xmas-themed Metallica CD on the back porch. BEFORE I had even planned to write about my lovely David. Now that I am, I'm SO glad it's being writ on Xmas Day. To honor him, who is sorely missed by THIS lone sum. There MUST be a telepathic aspect to this, wouldn't be surprised if he showed up at my gate today. Well it's 3:56pm. Where's Larkin? Randolph's BIRTHDAY is in five days. There's a HIT MAN on the prowl for my flesh. And he's got LOTSa buddies, on racing bicycles! Too dangerous for me to step out w/o bodyguards..but I remain alone and isolated. Yea, though I walk through the (Eureka) valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For thou (Goddess) art with me! How INTENSE this all is!

The police soon arrived, while David emerged, soaking wet and chilled, to deliver the baseball to a proud father whose son would cherish it forever. I PROFUSELY apologized for my buddy's behavior, stating I never EXPECTED him to spontaneously dive into the dock water, where swimming is verboten. They kindly released both myself and David, whence we visited a Donut Shop one block away; him in his naked, wet torso, me delightully at his knee! SURROUNDED (I might add) by heterocentric, post ballgame celebrants. They wouldn't DARE give us hell, not even a sneer. For MY David is MIGHTY like a benevolent Goliath!

I must comment that, while observing David leapt into the bay, I stood Mesmerized Witness to unbeLIEVable muscle and arm strength/coordination as he stroked SWIFTLY across the dark icy waters, to retrieve that baseball bobbing in the waves beneath the boardwalk. What spanned and noble freckly shoulders (fit for angel wings), blades gliding smooth beneath a sheet of muscle, like an adolescent PANTHER. Those long, fully developed arms, even the forearms were handsomely thick, fully STRETCHED breaststroke. PULLED the ocean behind him on each stroke! Baggy wide-belted Levis loosely clung 'round David's TIGHT waist. Denim blue jeans began to inch south, HALTED by a neatly packed rump. Boxer short wrinkled elastic band tantalizingly exposed: delicious contrast to a rhinestone-studded black belt.

My Goddess I wanted to yank those trousers off and ride my jaguar!

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