I fell in love with a sailor.

This story of my sailors, besides having its touch of magic and charm that will never be lost, first of all refers me to the core of my (new) discoveries and experiences, to a new life, a critical moment and the most radical turn of my whole being.
I was married, in the judge and in the church, to veil, wreath and party with the right waltz. A brief marriage of seven years that gave me of good two children, and also all that can mean the worst, disastrous, exhausting and degrading for my life. Seven years that seemed to me seventy years, of which I survived completely destroyed, without any more drop of love for life and for anyone, especially for women.
After the separation, I was completely alone for two years. My life was reduced to working, coming home to mourn the absence of my children while trying to take care of myself, and mourning the daily persecution and terrorism of the ex-wife that led me to psychology, therapy and psychiatry. Absolutely no relationships and much less sex - I was afraid of any possibility of someone taking over my life, my home and my soul again.
This regret of marriage (I was engaged twice to two different girls, apart from two or three other fixed girlfriends) every day made my hatred for women increase. I do not judge this hatred, nor do I ask judgments from anyone. I do not want to be a judge of myself, nor do I call for judges. It just came up.
Detail: At the time of the official separation, I was "accused" of not being "normal" because I had always remained faithful, despite the last two years of total absence of sex in the failed marriage.
This boring and unpleasant preamble was necessary in order to get to the <unk>X<unk> of the question: the SEALS!
After a hard day at work, answering free phone calls from the finger whose screaming and humiliating me, I made a decision - revenge! I have always been faithful and accused unjustly and lightly of something that never crossed my mind. Because then, even if it was an experience only of me and only of my knowledge, I decided that she would finally be betrayed. And not with a woman, but with a MAN! I only accept to be accused of "crimes" that I really committed!
Since my roommate was on vacation at the time, I set up at his strategically located computer (no one could see the screen), and went out looking for show boys - at the time I didn't even know how to do that. I only knew about the existence of this type of professional because of a play I watched and then went to check the newspaper classifieds. I ended up at an agency with a wonderful website, it didn't even look like an agency website. And I stood there, and I stayed for a long month admiring the photos, carefully reading the poems that illustrate the profiles. But someone special caught my attention, enchanted me: a sailor! A smile, beautiful penetrating eyes, images of the body of the god of Olympus, smooth skin, and brunette. And because it seemed incredible, it was the only nude model - the more profile I saw, the more lonely it seemed to me to see his body. It was beyond his perfect sex, and when I looked at it, it was very exciting and exhilarating to see that he had been there for many days.
Well, about a month later, I got up the courage, I stupidly picked up the phone (full of extensions from the school) and called that number. A sweet, friendly voice answered me, and it almost hung up, because my soft legs, the trembling all over my body, the heart coming out of my mouth and the fear prevented me from pronouncing the first <unk>alo<unk>. But the alo finally came out. I was talking to the owner of the agency, the head of the boys, a young guy too. Then I discovered that I was also a great soul!
Interestingly, we had a long conversation. Wisely he realized my ignorance and insecurity. Professionally he talked to me like a father talks to his son full of doubts and insecurities. God knows what he does! That first contact was already a great life lesson for me and after a short time, we became friends and I started attending his house, which became a School of Life for me.
But let's go back to the sailor! I made the appointment, at the cost of 200 reais, plus taxi and motel, at a time when I was broke and living at the expense and in my parents' house. That sailor in the photo led me, therefore, to commit my first madness! For the love of myself, I conclude today!
I arranged to pick him up at a mall with my car. I had that face and that body very clearly in my head. But I recommended that he go in a normal suit, and a sailor's suit stored in a backpack. I won't even talk about my state of mind. I didn't know at the time if I was going to die or if I was going to kill myself first because of the unusual situation for me at the time.
He appears in the distance. I tried to hide and pretend to this day I don't know from what and from whom - I was far from the agreed point. I didn't see him, therefore. I did see someone who looked like him, wrongly concludes. I turned my eyes away, because that man only looked like, could not even be that boy in the photo. Afraid of making a fool and provoking a misunderstanding, I went to that place in an anxiety to kill. At which he approached me and identified himself, with his real name, presenting me his RG!!!. I almost did not faint. That boy-from-Greek in the virtual photo was much less than that real man who introduced himself to me: he was infinitely more handsome, more perfectly carved and his skin infinitely more polished. He was 28 years old. But the revealing look and those exquisitely penetrating virtually attracted me since the first visit to his profile.
Trembling, I took him to the parking lot, put him in the car (I still didn't understand if he was human or if he was a commodity) and left for the motel in Raposo Tavares. My only thought: VENGANCE! But my nature began to betray me, and I saw myself becoming more and more excited, more desirous, more libidinous, full of fantasies in my head, like the virgin teenager who gives herself to her first boyfriend, while he tries to break the ice, telling me some things about his life. It was then that I noticed that, in reality, his eyes were beautifully blue-grey, despite his Catacharan origin and his jambon brown skin tanned by the sun of Santos, where he was born and lived.
We arrived at the motel. I didn't know what to do with him. He found himself caught in the middle of all my confusion. To unpack, he said that he was going to take a bath and that I should stay quiet in bed and calm down, because he had a surprise. And after about fifteen or twenty minutes that sailor in the picture appears in front of me, identical, identical!
I began to sweat coldly. He took advantage of the timely music that was playing and began a sensual striptease. He danced like a classical dancer, perfect, sensual, provocative. Until he transformed himself into that completely naked man, a statue of Michelangelo in his utmost perfection of carving, with only the hat - that of the naval officers! He stood over me, my hip between his legs. I was frozen and petrified like a corpse. I did not understand where I was and what I was doing there. Conclusion: nothing really happened.
He lay down beside me, that moist body glued to my back completely. He looked at me sweetly and lovingly, embraced me warmly, caressed me and put me at peace like a magic touch. And he began to talk. An exciting conversation like I had never had with anyone in my life. This conversation introduced me, in such a simple and forceful way, to all the reality and magic of the gay world and of relationships between men. And also the seriousness and importance of this boy's work. I think he realized that my happiness and my life, at that moment, depended on him! Once again, I repeat: God knows what He does! He put me on the path to the right person at the right time. The subject of this conversation will continue to belong here inside my heart, forever. That's just me - my treasure!
His cell phone rang. It was the pimp saying that he shouldn't be there with me anymore, that the show was only for an hour! To which he replied coolly: "He's a nice and nice guy. I'll continue here". And he hung up.
That moment stuck in my soul. I began to pray to God daily for that boy in my prayers, he totally changed my life in just a few hours. It was at that moment that I understood myself clearly and chose a new life!
A month later I called the same agency. I wanted to be with HIM on that same day and consummate what was missing so that it became a complete and definitive experience. The agent told me that it was not possible, that his schedule was full, he had personal commitments that day and that for him to travel from Santos to São Paulo, I would have to schedule in advance. I begged him to immediately call And... and to arrange with him the next available time and day. Half an hour later I receive a call from the agency. In an angry voice the agent told me that He was at that moment going to the highway just to see me, and that I would pick him up on the spot. This time, it was MY HUSBAND who was making a fool of himself! I don't know if he was just for love or for love of me...
We went to the same place. We loved each other passionately, despite my total lack of manners - it was my first time: I, the virgin maiden; he, in the sailor's cape. The atmosphere of love was unique and indescribable. Never again would I have sex with anyone in an atmosphere of similar charm and passion. The trance of his body reminded me of the movement of the sea, his cock, the foam of the waves breaking in the sand. I love the sea above all things! And I saw myself kissing that whole body, one biting my tongue, time after time, on his cock. He vehemently protested on his cell phone that it was too dangerous age - he was a stranger. He did nothing, however, to stop me from continuing until I was completely satisfied with kisses and kisses for him... He had small spasms of pleasure... He insisted on enjoying, as we both were, our clients... He insisted on having a conversation with our customers again... He had an illegitimate agent, and I had our children... He had our children, and I had our children, and I had our pictures.
To illustrate, my sailor was a runway model, choreographer and had already done two photo essays for two very famous gay magazines, but they did not survive G Magazine, like all the others. I desperately searched for these magazines all over the center of São Paulo, because they were already out of circulation. I found them.
He asked me to contact him directly next time. He gave me his landline and cell phone. I called the landline after a week, just to say that I missed him, because you could see that he was in a kind of office, full of people around, so much was the buzz. I called another week on his cell phone. P.O. Box, I left a message of missing. A month later I called the agency, because I wanted to see him (I couldn't tell his agent - now a good friend whose house he frequented, that his phones no longer answered, as if they didn't exist). He no longer worked there, had disappeared from the agency too.
Did he fall in love with me, or is it always the other way around, the client inadvertently falling in love with the fantasy figure of his michet?
Today I live with this dream and this real dream that I dreamed every night, every hour of every day. I only see sailors in whatever may represent or signify sex, sensuality and pleasure. It is enough to see a dark man in the street in a smooth and fair white shirt that I see myself docked with that being that symbolizes my sailor. My sailor and my new life! My sailor and my rebirth! The sailor who taught me to love life again, the sailor who taught me again to be loved! The beautiful sailor who showed me that life can be as exciting, beautiful and desirable as he is. Today I am a different man.
My sailor had a majestic dragon tattooed on his right shoulder that didn't show up in the photos because of his jambo-colored skin. I could only see the sharpness of that dragon when we were together. Well, after a few months when I finally understood that I had lost it forever, I had my dragon tattooed. Exactly in the same place and as close as possible to the image of his dragon that I still kept in my memory. With the only difference: I had mine colored.
This may all sound like a fairy tale, but it was real!
In the Forgetting to Vote