152.5 lbs. (Part 2)

2. titans on my bed

Somehow, what was supposed to be a simple anonymous quickie hookup off the phone sex line became a threesome on my bed. I was hooking up with this guy who said he was a twenty-four year old bisexual closeted guy from the suburbs. Halfway to my apartment, he called to recommend having this other guy join us, who said he was twenty-two, and also a closeted bisexual guy from the suburbs. I was a little wary about it but thought what the hell. The first guy, named Derek, stopped at SA to buy condoms and soon enough he was at my door. He was quite tall and thin, but broad, with short hair militantly slicked down. He had a goatee and wore glasses. A couple minutes later this other guy shows up. His name was Jake. We met him downstairs. He ambled up to the stoop. Beautiful guy. I was intrigued by him. Chiseled jaw, squared. He wore a Simpson College sweatshirt. All three of us sat in a row on my couch, watching “King of the Hill” on Fox. Jake sat between me and Derek. First Derek took off his shirt, then Jake. Both had beautiful, sculpted chests. Beautiful? I suppose in an automatic sense. Derek’s chest was broad tanned from a can and shaved. Jake’s chest was broad as well but less sculpted. With his chest hair growing out again. We took off our pants and Derek was wearing tight black bikini briefs. They both had huge erections. Derek’s was so large that it couldn’t hold its own weight.

Eventually, we found ourselves on my bed and I found myself on the sidelines, so to speak, as these two titans wrestled on the broad plateau. Eventually I just laid there, watching these Hyperions. Jake was fucking Derek, releasing from Derek’s these beautiful smells of A & F cologne, cigarettes, and minty gum. I watched them fuck from close up.

I realized how small I am. How small I’ve become. I was a small human compared to them. They were larger, broader, more endowed. And its funny, because when they both arrived at my apartment, with their clothes on, I automatically compared myself to them. It wasn’t until Jake was naked that I realized I had been wrong initially; I was much smaller than him in reality. They were so different from me! So much bigger and smoother! I felt like a small slithery pine marten next to them. Both Jake and Derek shaved themselves fastidiously. Their balls were shaved, the pubes trimmed to a perfect shape. What else did they shave? Chests? Shoulders? It was almost unnatural—on the opposite end but just as unnatural as I felt, all hairy and shit.

They were also much more muscular than me. Jake’s seemed natural, as though leftover from a wrestling career at Simpson. Derek’s seemed more sculpted, more worked-on. At one point I had lain on Derek’s back. It was broad, and his hips encompassed mine. His back was like a big oak table.

After it was done, Derek went into the bathroom. He asked me if I had any spare hairspray for his hair. I watched Jake finish himself off on my bed. Derek left quickly but Jake stuck around. We went back out into the living room, just him and I. The men were still going at it in the porno on TV. We stood around and watched it for a while. Jake was mesmerized. Soon enough, he left.

In addition to realizing how small I actually was, when naked and up close to these bodies that, when clothed, appeared to mock my corpulence, I felt in a close company to these titans on my bed. We were all minor obsessives when it came to our bodies, we just went about it in different ways. While I monitor the food I intake and fret over the microscopic changes to my body, relying on a warped image of my own body that hasn’t changed since 1997 as a frame, these men also showed evidence of minor compulsions. Derek had shaved every hair off his body except for a tiny bit of fur, a little merkin that capped his dick. Imagine the time he spends each week tweezing and shaving off each stray hair to achieve this formal, statuesque pubescence. And then, once the body has been cleaned of its unwanted hairs, the careful bronzing of the skin, not to mention hours spent in the gym to maintain its symmetry of buffed muscles. Jake as well, shaving his chest (though he was obviously more lax; the hairs were starting to grow back. Derek would have never allowed such sloppiness). I was the odd man out with my body hair. I didn’t conform to their shared ideals. I have my own ideals, and they run counter to those around me. I began to wonder, am I really so different than those around me? Don’t we just choose different forms of obsession?

Of course, I have to admit that my obsession is different from theirs. Shaving off every hair on your body doesn’t have a nutritional component to it; starving yourself does. Eating disorders can be deadly, chaetophobia (the fear of hair) is relatively harmless. I suppose it’s in their origins where I detect a link. What are the conditions under which someone will decide to eradicate hair from their body in perpetuity? What are the conditions under which someone will starve themselves to achieve a particular weight? Just as I look in the mirror and see a bloated body, does Derek look in the mirror and see a werewolf?

Sometimes, I long to see myself as I am, as a whole, rather than as an outsider watching titans wrestle on my bed.

see also: 152.5 lbs. (Part 1)

Posted by jason at November 24, 2024 12:24 PM