Dressed for summer night in that bright shirt. The sunglasses that hide his gaze when they slip to where they shouldn’t, as they often do. Dressed for the sticky heat of summer night in those shorts. Tight shorts. Distressed denim shorts. Out in the streets at night in torn shorts, like that, boy? A boy could get in trouble in such short tight shorts as those, ripped as they are.

Heavy leather jacket. Black boots up to my knees. Seem to have forgotten the rest. Master Kink. Daddy Delicious. They light a cigar and it trails its vile smoke around my face. I manage 90% of the fantasy, then. Daddy at barely 20. They say I look older and mean it as a compliment.

He’s the handsome man that tips a life-changing proposition and not a note or even a bundle. The handsome man that drives a Jag, and steals me away into the night as soon as my second show is over. He sits beside me in intimate gloom, two sober gay men at 2am on a Saturday morning, sliding through the darkness until the city is far behind and a new life plan is just over the horizon.