what New Year's resolutions have u made? asked the Blue Light Special.

not to send Christmas cards ever again telling people that i have fallen in love.

how did it come to this? . . . the afternoon before he had arrived with a shopping bag full of holiday leftovers, East German towels of an impractical size and the news that even before Thug Lover had figured out where the headphones had come from he said he really wanted a cordless pair . . . i decided what i'd like to give u for Christmas i announced a little scorpion tattoo on your inner thigh or butt . . . so i'll always remember where i got it he said . . . exactly, i want to mark u for life.

of course we also wasted a lot of time online but then we did go to Probe, a new dance club, after i made him dinner . . . i don't want to pay so let's get there before 11 p.m. he insisted . . . free admission means we go Dutch i guess but if he expected me to pay his coat, he was disappointed . . . it felt kinda weird to be out with him in public . . . he had worn his bright red Hamburg jacket which made him hard to miss or the fact that his companion was a generation older than the mostly 20something crowd.

a couple of sleazy guys i recognized from my brief run on the circuit spotted us sitting together on the banquette . . . they probably wonder what i'm doing here with u i said, pleasantly surprised that he leaned into me and didn't object to my hand lightly touching his back . . . we even danced together after he had fortified himself with a lemon vodka and tonic . . . the bartender didn't have a clue about how to make a Macintosh i apologized and when i repeated your explanation he said he didn't have any apple juice. nothing with the Blue Light Special is ever easy.

neither of us had a very good time . . . we both spent a lot of time observing the crowd . . . the Blue Light Special got cruised a couple of times but being seen with him didn't give me nearly as much satisfaction as sleeping with him . . . i longed for bed and was relieved when he decided not to check out the Park because of the blowing snow, though we did make a brief detour into xl and headed straight for the must-see bathrooms . . . he loves nothing better than playing tour guide to a longtime New Yorker . . . these were on Sex and the City he said excitedly.

u look very tired he said when we got home around 2:30 . . . i am i replied without telling him i didn't much like the club scene even before turning 40 . . . give me drugs and a circuit party any day over a bunch of bridge and tunnel guys who wouldn't know what to do without HX or Next . . . meow.

the Blue Light Special barely looked up from the computer the next morning when i began reading to him from the Times about the tsunamis . . . bistudpa@aol.com had driven both of us into a frenzy with his unbelievably hot pics, but i had retreated first to the dishes and then to the couch when he avoided answering our first logistical question . . . get ready to waste another day, i thought, my irritation beginning to build.

everybody on AOL is a fake or on drugs he declared with disgust . . . duh . . . sixpack is much better . . . we spent close to an hour trying to find a portal that he had heard about once in Germany . . . the search led us to his favorite gay porn sites and i began to wonder if there was a reason he didn't have a computer hooked up at home as we spent another half an hour looking at naked men . . . what u are describing sounds a lot like BigMuscle.com i said more than once why don't we create a profile for u there?

we did, using a selection of the digital photos i had taken . . . the Blue Light Special refused to post a cock shot and balked when i suggested adding his stage name and some biographical information . . . this should be all about the body. who cares where they live or what they do? . . . it didn't take long for him to receive a couple of short messages or several guys to add him to their "i like" list.

he quickly sensed the vicarious thrill it gave me to see the reaction he was getting . . . why does this get u so excited? he asked coquettishly . . . i'm only trying to help u i responded . . . and help myself, too, i guess . . . although i don't really want to lose him, i don't think we have much of a future either . . . but as long as he keeps calling me and coming around, i don't have the strength to resist him, even on his terms.

perhaps he picked up on my passive aggressive dumping tactic . . . as my mood grew darker, so did his.

what's wrong with u? why aren't u smiling at me any more? he asked . . . i told him it was more about my end-of-the-year blahs and employment concerns than him or us but he knew i was lying and began to lash out at me.

how do i know that u are not going to sell my photos? he asked sullenly . . . how do i know u haven't lied to me about your HIV status?

it doesn't have to end like this i answered, stunned by accusations that seemed to come out of nowhere . . . if u like i will delete all the photos i took of u right now. and i haven't lied to u about my HIV status but if u believe that i have u might as well leave right now. i would never do that.

early on, i told the Blue Light Special that i liked him because he kept me on my toes . . . why are u getting so upset? he asked i didn't react this way when u accused me of using drugs.

u are right, and i apologize for that . . . i apologize too . . . and then we agreed how each of us was manipulating the other . . . i pout to get sex and he uses sex to leave me happy . . . weren't most heterosexual marriages based on this dynamic prior to women entering the workforce in massive numbers?

actually that's the wrong analogy . . . the Blue Light Special really wants to be my mistress . . . don't U think he's acting like the classic showgirl? . . . creating lots of guilt-inducing drama to induce a spasm of generosity?

we moved into the bedroom where, lying on the bed together, he began fucking with my head, big time . . . poppers have become a routine part of our sex life . . . during our photo session, i had suggested that we use his bright blue bottle as a prop because it contrasted so well with his cheap red sunglasses . . . when this is gone, our relationship will be over he said . . . i thought he had been teasing me . . . i didn't make that mistake today . . . he pulled the bottle out from his bag of tricks and held it up, noting look, it's still half full . . . or half empty, from my perspective i observed before asking are u threatening me?

if the Blue Light Special fails as an actor he still can work in the theatre as a prop master . . . he dipped back into his bag and withdrew a smiley face on a yellow plastic ball that had been distributed as a promotion by Thug Lover's employer . . . during one of the first delirious weekends we had spent together, he had held it next to his face and grinned . . . of course i captured the moment in a photo and after he left for Southampton that morning, i took my camera to Central Park to capture an already perfect late fall day and color it with my infatuation . . . occasionally, as i reviewed each crisp new thumbnail of New York City in full holiday gallop, i scrolled back to his smiling image . . . it brought tears of joy to my eyes, something i had confessed to him previously as proof of my love for him.

like many of the more sensitive gay men of my generation, i once thought Joni Mitchell was channeling me . . . i've never forgotten her refrain from "The Same Situation" on Court and Spark:

you've had lots of lovely women
now u turn your gaze to me
weighing the beauty and the imperfection
to see if i'm worthy
like the church
like a cop
like a mother
u want me to be truthful
sometimes u turn it on me like a weapon though
and i need your approval.

but now, as the Blue Light Special brandished his bottle of poppers and smiley face, i quite suddenly didn't need his approval . . . he must have seen the change in my eyes because his mood shifted again and he became almost tender . . . no doubt U are asking isn't a tender German oxymoronic? . . . i suppose it probably is but he certainly possesses the acting chops to play tender as persuasively as Thomas Haden Church in Sideways . . . i think maybe u have cracked my cold heart a little bit he whispered, softly kissing my mouth . . . if u were going to sell my pictures or u are HIV positive u probably wouldn't have gotten so upset when i accused u just now. maybe i'm beginning to trust u a little.

(hmmmm, does this mean that because he didn't get angry when i accused him of being a friend of Tina's, i now should conclude that he is?)

his tenderness had the desired effect . . . in an effort to hasten his temporary departure and prove my trustworthiness i moved back to the computer screen . . . i'm going to delete all but my four favorite pictures, ones u could send to your mother i said do u want me to delete your bigmuscle profile too? . . . only my name he said nobody else uses their real name . . . so we substituted a nickname but then he spent another half an hour trying to figure out how to get his profile more exposure . . . everytime he asked me a question, i responded in monosyllables, sinking further down in my chair.

when the Blue Light Special said ok i must go to the gym now i thought he must have finally gotten the message . . . he carefully packed his bag of tricks, and put on his bomber jacket and baseball cap but instead of kissing me goodbye he grabbed my crotch.

he had a hard look in his eyes, one i'd never seen before . . . he pushed me down in front of him as if he were a hustler and i was a desperate cocksucker . . . when i resisted, he went down on me . . . i decided to go with the flow even though both of us knew exactly what he was doing.

this guy is good, i thought, as he unzipped his pants without unbuckling his belt and took out his hard cock . . . he remembers that i told him how giving him a blow job with his clothes on turns me on more than when he's naked . . . i took him in my mouth . . . he pulled me up after a couple of minutes, kissing me hard and then dropping his pants before leading me into the bedroom.

he removed poppers, lube and condoms from his bag and put some porn into the VCR before laying back on the bed and assessing his client's needs . . . i shook my head when he made a move to put on a condom . . . so instead, he greased his butt while i put one on and then fucked him with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer hitting an anvil . . . at one point he even put on his sunglasses . . . he came twice but i wasn't through fucking with him.

did u like that? i asked did it feel any different? did u notice i how hard i got? . . . yes he said . . . that's because i did it without feeling. remember how i told u i could fuck for hours if i didn't care about the person i was fucking? well tonight for the first time i didn't care about u because u were acting like a hustler. that's the role u were playing wasn't it? isn't that what keeping your pants on at first and wearing the sunglasses and keeping your bomber jacket on was all about?

i really should learn to keep my mouth shut . . . the Blue Light Special seemed nonplussed but he recovered quickly enough to retaliate . . . didn't u hear what i said when i came the second time? i said i was coming in German. i only do that when i get lost in the sex. i never got lost before. even when u thought we had a connection, i didn't have one until just now. before, i was working.

working? doesn't work imply compensation of some sort? i asked, deeply wounded . . . yes, i do it for the applause he answered.

not long after i took the photo of the Blue Light Special holding up the smiley face, i sent it to him . . . did u notice the shadow in the background of the picture? he asked in an e-mail response what do u think it means? . . . i hadn't examined at it that closely, but when i did he was right, there was an interesting shadow.

it looks like a couple of crossed swords to me i replied . . . very phallic in any case.

who knew then that this would pretty much say it all about our relationship? . . . two nights later he walked jauntily through my door, uninvited, and said hello my love as if nothing had ever happened.

the Frankfurt Banker is finally at a loss for words and i'm still hooked.