Overview

Silk brushed against my eyes, then wrapped around my wrists . . . I can’t remember ever dreaming of being tied to bedposts with silk ties. A couple years ago, I barely knew gays lived anywhere other than New York or California. Who knew they were everywhere and quite willing to offer their neckwear in service to the greater good? At least, to my greater good. Ah, the memories. That isn’t where our story begins. It was just something that happened along the way I can’t get out of my head. You know, that memory of heart-pounding fear and adrenaline combined with the tingle of warm oil drizzling across skin? The sweet hint of cologne mingled with a day’s sweat? I really didn't know what was happening, but it was awesome!