Page 249 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 219

to let himself be frightened by the prospect.
He would not learn real fright until he was in his mid-thirties.
Late on a spring night, after watching Schwarzenegger as Conan
nailed up naked to the Tree of Woe, Kick was inspired to play an exotic
sex scene. At first they joked about it, but the joshing fell away and the
night grew serious. It was typical of the way they had sex. Kick poured
them each a hit of the ecstatic drug their dealer nicknamed Kryptonite.
“I only want half a hit,” Ryan said.
“Name your poison,” Kick said.
They toasted one another with the wine glasses. “To Arnold,” Kick
said. “And to us.”
They had both liked the scene in which the muscle-warrior Conan,
captured by the evil priest James Earl Jones, was crucified to the mam-
moth stump of a huge tree on a barren primeval plain. Ryan grew excited
as the image of Kick crucified grew between them. They began their
preparations. Kick slowly stripped. Ryan anointed his body with olive oil
to a high glaze.
In the basement room of the Victorian where they played before three
full-length mirrors under the tracklight spots, huge horizontal beams
crossed over the heavy upright wooden foundation posts. They stood,
both naked, before the crossed beams in the center of the room. Ryan
fashioned a small linen loin cloth that he wrapped around Kick’s muscular
waist, then dropped down to create a pouch for his dick and balls. He
pulled the long, twisted length of linen up the crack of his ass and knotted
the cloth to the waistband in the small of his back.
“I want to look stronger than Conan,” Kick said. “I want us to get
more intense than the movie. Let’s see what a real musclebeast restrained
by steel looks like.”
Ryan cinched Kick’s wrists into heavy leather cuffs. Ryan’s dick grew
hard at the prospect of a new worshipful view of the man who relied on
him to create the most private of the fantasies he could not perform alone.
Kick smiled at him. “Now you know why I love you,” he said. “Now
you know when I heard about you and read your stories, I had to meet
you.”
Ryan, the acolyte, led Kick to the beams. He placed a short wooden
barrel at the foot of the cross. He gave Kick a hit of popper.
“I love you,” Kick said, “for this, and more than this.” He looked
deep into Ryan’s eyes. “You know, don’t you! You know! You understand
the Gift. It’s not always in a man’s body the way it is in mine. But more
than my body, it’s in my head. You’re one of the few men who know I

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