S e b a s t i a n

Sebastian is my lover. He is much younger than I. He is the main reason I escape often - and often alone - from Manhattan. Sebastian is Trouble. And I am crazy about him. I am, however, at this somewhat mature age, not particularly crazy myself. I have no delusions about where it all will lead. Hollywood's romanticism is best played out on the silver screen. I cherish what's left in my bank account, my few bibelots, my cufflinks ... I relish his ass. ... and his skin and his lips. His beauty is mesmerizing - with his boyish face and broken boxer's nose, he resembles a malevolent young Brando. He has the coloring of his parents: his Cuban mother's dark skin and hair married to the green latter-day Saints eyes of his blonde, Mormon missionary father. We met in Miami five years ago when the town was just picking up. It had become chic to revisit. As he waited on me behind the counter of that men's boutique in Palm Beach, I couldn't believe he hadn't been snatched up by an agency, or that a certain gentleman hadn't offered him the world. It wasn't until later that I learned of his swath of destruction, his sexual Sherman's March across the South. How many quivering, shattered men began buy paying him for sex and quickly ended up paying for him to move on? Sebastian and I have come to a different understanding. I won't say he loved me - I suspect he is incapable of that - but he does respect me. I have trained him, reined him in, as much for society's sake as for my own (jail would only whet his appetite). My daddy juices all aflow, he is what I want right now. He is as close as I have ever lived to the open flame. Sebastian is wanton. It takes one to know one. His immorality alternately stuns and excites me. A lot of Sebastian's character I understand, but on the whole, he is an enigma, a mercurial delinquient who still says his prayers every night (only the divine frightens him). Sebastian scares me, Sebastian invigorates me - he is the youthful palliative for my eternal lust. It is an endless battle for him between his head and his groin. He can be rational and aloof, then, suddenly in a rage, or lust, or boredom, his unearthly eyes narrow and he spins into the carnal, the depraved. As you can imagine, the sex is pretty good.

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