“My name is Danny,” he said. His voice was tight, as if he was working to control it. “I’m from Mystic.”
“Where’s that?” Obviously my life was not a porn flick or a rom-com. It must be a fantasy. That would explain a lot.
“It’s a small town in Connecticut. My grandmother came to Boston from Vietnam and ended up there. Married into an old family. That’s why I look like this but have the last name Cunningham.”
I blinked. “Brett,” I said. “I’m Brett. I’m from Salt Lake City.”
“Wow,” he said in awe. “That’s, like, exotic. I’ve never met anyone who was farther away than Michigan!”
I tried to imagine myself being exotic. I failed.
“Okay, troops,” Fred called out. “You’ll notice we’ve placed mats and towels on the floor in the back. Go stake out your territory, and then you’ll take the clothes off your partner. This workshop is in the buff. And again, the focus today is on energy, breathing, and sensuality. No pressure, except when we’re teaching you acupressure.” He hesitated. “That’s a massage joke.”
Danny reminded me of the fox I had seen hunting. I kept expecting him to suddenly leap into the air and flick his tail. I followed him to a mat in the middle of the room. I towered over him. I took a deep breath and started to unbutton his shirt. His smile was so wide I worried his face might crack. I removed his shirt and folded it as carefully as if I were working for J.Crew. I put it down carefully on the floor next to the towels.
“Oh,” he giggled, “me next!” He reached up and tugged at my gray T-shirt. I bent forward and extended my arms, and he pulled it over my head. He wasn’t nearly as careful. I watched my new shirt hit the floor. The guy was eager. He stopped and put his hands on his hips as if he were Peter Pan. I untied his shorts. They slipped off the moment I took my hand away and pooled around his ankles. He wasn’t wearing underwear. He was uncut. I stared. Maybe it had been a good idea not to jump into bed with Karl last night. This was different than being naked in the locker room. I got to look. Well, I got to stare. He had little body hair, and it was so fine. His body was in perfect proportion, but delicate. Petite. Beautiful in a way I had never seen with all the jocks at Murray High School or at my gym in Salt Lake, where I mostly kept my eyes glued to the floor so no one would think I was—you know. He was still grinning. He kicked his shorts into the growing pile of clothes to the side and attacked my belt and popped open my jeans, then yanked them down. He brushed his left hand against my crotch, and to my horror I responded. “Thank you, baby Jesus,” he whispered. He pulled down my Calvins and just stood for a moment watching my dick rise up like a cobra out of a basket in one of those old movies. He sighed.
I bent down, mostly out of embarrassment but trying to free myself from my jeans and briefs. I now understood why they had us remove our shoes and socks when we entered. With my luck I figured I’d get tangled up, trip, and end up in the infirmary. By this point I had given up on being neat and tossed them toward the rest of the clothes.
“Take the next few minutes and explore the body of your partner,” Hunter said. “Be gentle. Use your fingertips and try to intuitively feel the energy that’s always a part of your body and his. For some of you, it might help you concentrate if you close your eyes as you do this. Again—you’re human. It’s natural for some of you to respond when you’re touched in a loving and caring way. This is about energy, breathing, and sensuality. Remember the breathing techniques we were teaching you at the beginning of the workshop. Now go!”
Danny was touching me. I was still standing, looking down at the top of his head. The hair there wasn’t really quite black, although his eyebrows and his body hair were. His dick and balls were nestled in sparse, fine, straight hair. I had never seen anything like it before, but I could admit I spent most of my time around naked men, trying not to see.
“You’re so tall,” he whispered. “Could you get down on your knees so I can reach all of you?” I nodded and changed my position. Great. Now I was looking directly at his crotch. He leisurely drew his fingertips across my jaw. I had shaved, but I could still hear the scratchy sound of my stubble as he continued to move his hand slowly to his right. I closed my eyes, trying to think of energy. He slowly moved his right hand across my face, but suddenly he used his other hand to cup my balls. I gasped. He reached out, using the tips of his fingers as he moved lower. I wondered if this was what Jimmy had tried to do years ago. I was certain Jimmy had never been to a Body Electric workshop. Danny paused for a moment. I think he was touching what Eddie called the taint: “Tain’t your balls, t’ain’t your asshole.” I gasped again.
Danny leaned so close I could feel his breath on my shoulder. He wrapped his fingers loosely around my cock and lifted upward, not really touching me but brushing against me. I felt like my body had been plugged into a wall socket. Maybe they weren’t kidding about the energy they kept bringing up. Speaking of bringing it up, Danny was using his fingers to lightly circle the tip of my cock. I tightened my stomach, and as I did, I realized I was making my cock bob as if it were nodding. I opened my eyes to look into his face. He looked so peaceful—so content. He moved his hand away from my dick and began to trace my treasure trail. As he let his one hand continue on its journey, he moved his other off my face and then used both hands to tap against my nipples. I never thought my nipples had any purpose, but I was wrong. When I had touched them myself, I had no response. But when he touched them, they grew hard. His action made my dick get harder. He used his busy fingers to fly up the sides of my neck. He bent over me, placing his cheek on my shoulder. He reached down and used his fingernails to trace my buttcheeks. The sensation was amazing. I didn’t want him to stop. He let his fingers dance up my spine, then came around to my ribs. It tickled and I laughed.
“Take four deep breaths,” Fred called out. “Then switch so your partner has a turn. Remember—energy, breathing. Sensuality.” I opened my eyes and noticed Hunter watching us. I brought my eyes down to where he was looking and saw I was leaking precum. I wanted to be swallowed up into the earth and disappear.
“Perfectly natural,” Hunter said gently. “Proves you’re human. Why we have two towels next to each mat. Get ready to switch.” I focused on Danny. He looked so excited I thought he’d sail away in a bubble like Glinda. He was erect. His dick reminded me of a carrot. Slender. Pointed at the end. I always thought cocks looked like God didn’t take a lot of time in the design. Danny had the first dick that looked like a work of art. I touched his face. There was a hint of stubble around his upper lip and the tip of his chin, but it felt nothing like mine. I loved touching the hair on his head. I thought if I blew on it, it would float away like dandelion fluff. My own hair and body hair felt coarse and rough after touching his. I didn’t know it would feel like this. I pulled my rugged large hands across his flat chest. He felt so different than I did. He was so slim. No body fat to speak of and little muscle. His skin was smooth and taut. The only place on my own body like this was the back of my hands. When I pushed gently, I could feel the bones underneath his skin.
“You’re so smooth,” I breathed. I felt like I had wandered into a museum and was fondling a perfectly carved statue. I didn’t feel I was touching real flesh, other than he was so warm. Still on my knees, I reached down and let my fingertips caress his calves. They were the most muscular part of his body. They were firm, like his butt was when I kept moving up. I curved my hands around his ribs. I opened my eyes again, and I was looking at his navel. Without thinking about it, I brought my head down and gently licked the inside of his belly button. He moaned. Startled, I pulled my head up and brought my hands lower, touching his thighs, and then as I brought them up, the backs of my hands came into contact with his tight balls and then lifted up the bottom of his cock. He moaned again.
“Marry me,” he whispered.
I opened up my eyes and saw Danny would also be needing a towel.
“Now,” Hunter said, “take four more deep breaths, an
d then Fred and I will demonstrate some techniques of Thai massage.”
Chapter Ten
LUNCH WAS amazing. This time it was Karl in a white apron who came by to pass out a choice of rolls. “Did you sleep well?” he asked as I picked something that smelled delicately of garlic.
“Like a baby,” I said. “Thanks for the bedtime story.” He smiled and moved on with his basket and tongs. I thought Danny might end up sitting next to me, but as soon as the massage workshop was over, he had skipped out the door to join his friends. I suspected I was a topic of conversation.
“How was your erotic massage workshop?” Keith asked. He sat down next to me. He didn’t have a plate but had a cup of coffee in his hand.
“I can honestly say I learned a lot.” I thought about how best to talk about it. “Much of it was a new experience.”
He nodded. “What do you think was the most important thing you learned?”
I looked over at Walter. “That I keep proving to myself that I’m human.”
After lunch was Drag 101. The room had tables, and on the larger ones there were stacks of clothing and accessories. Behind them were racks of dresses. Two of the tables were full of various cosmetics. Yet another table had Styrofoam heads sporting wigs of various colors and lengths. Karl was already there, talking to the instructor, who had a hairstyle that rivaled that of Marge Simpson. I figured she had to kneel down to fit through the door. She made quite an impression. Eddie would have been envious. I hadn’t expected Karl to be into drag, but if you had asked me a year ago if I’d be sitting in on a drag class, I would have laughed in your face.
“Listen up, ladies,” the facilitator called out in a powerful baritone. “I am your Drag Mother, Lady Teasedale! Remember that drag is not just about a fabulous outfit, matchless makeup, and breathtaking hair.” She touched the pearls around her neck, which were the size of baseballs. “It’s all about attitude. It’s about walking through the world in a way that makes others stop and look at you.” She seemed to be on a runway. She spun around and added, “And wish they were you.” As if on cue, the entire room erupted into applause. “Hands, ladies! How many of you have ever done drag?”
I looked around. There were eighteen of us in the room looking at her. Eight people raised their hands. Karl was one of them. I wondered what it would feel like if my first official boyfriend was a drag queen. I suspected Eddie would throw a lot of shade. What else was new?
“Most importantly,” she continued, “you will all show off your incredible drag selves in tonight’s talent show! If you had planned to share any additional talent you may have, such as playing a ukulele while juggling bowling balls, then you can still do so, but you will do it in drag! Now, because drag is a culture of sharing and support—you know all true drag queens do fund-raisers for appropriate charities—those of you who are experienced will assist your less fortunate sisters.”
She moved again, apparently either trying to find her best angle or the best lighting. What could I say? I grew up with Eddie always around. “Fly, my darling monkeys, fly! You saw the ones who didn’t put up well-manicured hands. Go forth and initiate them into their new world of fabulosity!” I looked over, and Karl was walking toward me with purpose in his stride. But right behind him was someone I didn’t know who was already wearing a wig. They both arrived where I was sitting at the same time.
“Back off, bitch,” Karl growled. “This one is mine.” He batted his eyes at me, and I realized he had on false eyelashes that looked like he had cut off the wings of a raven and somehow attached them to his eyelids. “And call me Kookie, sugar.”
“Well, well, do tell. Why is he yours?” the rival of Karl/Kookie asked. “Give this boy a chance for greatness, and that’s not something a skinny-ass wannabe like you can provide.” She touched her hair, which was spiraling down like the boy king’s mother from Game of Thrones before she had the curls cut off to strut her naked Walk of Shame. I suddenly wondered if I might have made a better choice by signing up for Ninja Wood Skills, which was running at the same time. Or the nature hike. I took a deep breath. It could be worse. They could both be drunk. I had been around Eddie many times when he was wasted. “And call me MariaMichelleRhondaPalooza,” she concluded. I thought I should pick the one whose name I could pronounce. I tried to take her all in. No one could ever rightly call her a “skinny-assed wannabe.” Eddie used to have a friend named Large Marge. The one in front of me was larger. Three Kookies could fit inside her dress and still have enough room to enjoy an all-you-can-eat buffet. I suspected before the retreat was over, I was going to find out what fat felt like.
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Lady Teasedale said from behind me. She put her huge hands on my shoulders. “And I’m talking to you, sugar. This should make you really strong.” She squeezed my shoulders. “Or it could kill you. But it’s worth the risk for the results.” She pointed her index finger at the other two. Her artificial nail looked as if it could pierce an armored car. “You will settle this in the old-fashioned way! Normally that would involve getting drunk, but because this is a sober event, you will have a Face-Off! Each one of you will do half his face! Whoever does the best job will be declared the winner and have the joy of wiping off the loser’s work and redoing it with the winning design.” She swept away. As she left, I thought of how Eddie would say “Her ass looks like two pigs fucking inside a sack.” Then Lady Teasedale turned around with the delicacy of a flower bud opening to the sun. Damn, she was good at this. “Or—you could bribe me.”
I wondered if I could afford the bribe. Kookie and Whasname shook hands. I got up to get a bottle of water while the two of them grabbed supplies. Knowing Eddie, I was aware this was going to take a while. Before lunch I had shaved a second time. I enjoyed the icy goodness of the spring water. Whasname returned with a color chart and held it next to my face and squinted. Kookie lined up a variety of bottles and tubes. She turned my wheeled chair around so her work materials were behind me and they both had full access to my body.
“How long have you been doing this, Kookie?” I had a little more water.
“Four years. I was still in college. I’ve done ten different performances.”
“Amateur,” Whasname laughed. “I’ve been at this for half your life! I could be teaching this class!” I looked over at Lady Teasedale, and based on her expression, she didn’t appreciate the idea of being replaced. An angry drag queen is a dangerous drag queen.
“That just means my work is fresh, sugar,” Kookie droned into my ear, “while this other bitch here is stale.”
“Oow!” I cried. Whasname’s eyebrow pencil felt like it had gouged my forehead when Kookie trash-talked her. I hadn’t expected killing me would be so literal. “I vote that any blood drawn should disqualify you.” They quieted down as they entered their zone. I tried to relax. I had never considered how much was involved, since I normally saw Eddie and his troupe after they were done up and tucked—ready to hit the stage. I mean, I knew Eddie and his buds took a couple of hours to get ready, but I had just assumed it was because they were partying in some dressing room and then threw everything on at the last minute, the way he did everything else. I was now starting to think of this as the cosmetic equivalent of making sausages or dirty politics—something I didn’t really want to watch. As best I could, I tried to see what was going on at some of the other tables. Baby drag queens were being taught how to apply their own foundation and makeup. I was being taught how to hold still. Granted, that was a useful skill on its own.
Lady Teasedale would wander by periodically and provide enigmatic looks. When she walked away, one of her “flying monkeys” would retrace her steps and examine what was being done to me. From my end it felt like they were spreading spackle across my face. After what seemed enough time for an elephant to give birth, Lady Teasedale approached, bearing an elaborately braided construction that deserved to be called more than a wig. It would more accurately be described as a crown. Eddie would kil
l for it. She looked down at Kookie and Whasname, and they bowed their heads and backed off. The giant drag queen leaned in and carefully examined my forehead. She breathed in, held it, and then jammed her masterpiece on top of my head. I think there was a spike involved. She stepped back and crossed her arms. I looked up, and everyone else was behind her and staring at me. I didn’t think I had ever been inspected as much in my entire life as I had in the last twenty-four hours. Even a fox had taken its turn. As one, the crowd turned from looking at me to looking expectantly at Lady Teasedale.
She ate the scenery. Damn, she was good. She treated time like taffy, stretching it out to impossible lengths, building up tension. She turned back and looked at me again. “My iPhone,” she demanded. “Now!”
A baby drag queen (who looked pretty good, considering) came running and presented the cell phone. With gravitas, Lady Teasedale pointed it at me, and I was blinded by a series of flashes. Then there was silence. “I knew it,” Lady Teasedale said. “I was able to capture a Jigglypuff hiding in her hair! I am such a Pokémon Master!”
I shut my eyes. “So, who’s the winner?”
“Oh, that,” Lady Teasedale said. “It’s obviously a tie.” She wheeled my chair toward the full-length mirror in the corner. It was now my turn to stare. I looked like I was the model for a Picasso painting. I blinked. Eddie would still kill for the wig. I slowly turned in my chair. Aunt Lindsey was right. I turned out to be a really ugly woman.
Chapter Eleven
I KEPT feeling as if I might tip over at any time. My wig was a lot heavier than it appeared. Kookie sat beside me. She was dressed as a bride. She didn’t wear a wig. I wondered if this was because she felt there was no point when sitting next to me, just as the sun is so bright the stars are invisible in the daylight. I had lost count of how many pictures had been taken of us. I accepted the fact that, while this obviously meant a lot to Kookie/Karl and drag was an interesting experience, it wasn’t a lifestyle for me. When I looked at the pictures, all I could think was that we looked like Frankenstein’s monster and his bride. This made me realize I had a lot more vanity than I thought I did. I concluded that also proved that I was human.
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