Gay love massage

He always wrote to me with a dark blue calligraphy pen. In his almost illegibly sophisticated scribble, his letters detailed things fond of how many calories “amorous kissing” burns, the mating habits of his local geese and how much he loved me (sometimes in the form of a poem he’d spent the afternoon writing at his house in the country). He was a silly and loving man and usually did his silly loving with flair. When it came to writing, this meant not settling for email.

One of my first male lovers, he was worldly, intellectual, much older and saw it as part of his job to acquaint me with my gay heritage. It was all Rimbaud, Wilde, Chatwin, Mishima and similar figures. And whatever other purposes his love letters served, receiving them gave me an appreciation for similar letters written by such people — letters that are often the best and most interesting evidence of homosexual relationships in the past.