The Blac Rose Ecstasy

Chapter One -- NYC Eagle Discovery

The middle of August 2006 found me staying by myself in a student dormitory in New York City for a week of orientation for my new job. In the off-hours I ventured into Manhattan and walked up and down the west side of mid-town, exploring and mapping out all the sights of New York's gay district. At night I would search local newspapers and the Internet for the local of all the gay bars, fetish shops, and shopping districts, and the next afternoon I'd head out on foot to find them.

I had heard of The Eagle in New York, but information was sketchy. Apparently the original bar had closed a couple years ago, and it wasn't clear if or where the new incarnation was located. The shopping, though, was pretty good, and at one store I found a pair of hot rubber pants that I just HAD to have. Now I needed to wear them out.

That night I found the address of the new Eagle and headed out, in my new gear. The neighborhood was seedy, as I expected it would be, surrounded with empty lots and sketchy looking automobile repair establishments. The first time I walked right past the entrance to The Eagle, not noticing the small red neon sign above the door, or the mural of an eagle on the sidewall of the building.

I enter the bar, and am directed up a flight of stairs (the ground floor was apparently closed). The long flight of stairs stopped briefly at a small landing, then proceeded up another flight to the roof deck, which is where I went first. I emerged onto a vast, open area with trees and shrubbery -- not what I was expecting in this neighborhood. The roof deck was arranged in various levels with benches and planters breaking up the vastness of the space. At one end is an outdoor bar, with a few men in shorts and t-shirts gathered around bantering with the friendly bartender (a Canadian, as it turns out!).

I make my way back down to the second floor, and enter what is a nearly empty space. I check my watch -- 11 p.m. -- and am left wondering why it's do dead. Within an hour the place begins to pick up slightly, but I'm told (by the bartender) that this is typical for a Thursday in the summer.

I venture into the front of the bar and watch a couple men playing poor. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a young man sitting on the bench in a dark corner rubbing his crotch and working his nipples as he watches the pool game proceed. Before long a second guy approaches and stands in front of him, and begins rubbing his own crotch. The guy on the bench opens his pants and pulls out his erect dick, as the man standing in front of him falls to his knees and begins to give head. A third person approaches and pulls his own dick out, and begins jerking himself off; in a few minutes he blows his load all over the man on the bench, and leaves. Another two men approach and join in, as I sit in disbelief -- this is a public bar, and this is completely out in the open!

I move to the bar, partly to get another drink and partly to make sure there aren't any police around, then return to the pool table. By now there are groups of men making out and having open sex. In the opposite corner, by the window, a tall black man is standing behind a younger white twink, obviously fucking him. A third man is working the twink's dick. I stand at a close distance and watch. When the third man leaves I move in and take the twink's dick in my hand, stroking it gently; he leans forward and kisses me. A shiver runs through me and a let go of his dick and take off. I make my way to the bathroom, splashing some water in my face. When I look up out of the sink I see someone on his knees in front of the urinal giving two men head.

"Fuck! That's hot! What is this place? Shit... " I say to myself as I head for the door. I return to the bench across from the pool table and watch the game unfold, each player completely oblivious to the action that's taking place around them. I feel a mixture of excitement and fear. I start rubbing my crotch as I watch the fucking action still happening across the room in the far corner by the windows. Before long two young men, one in leather are standing next to me, one pulling my t-shirt off and working my nipples, while the other unzips my rubber pants and goes down on my cock.

"Fuck! I can't believe this is happening." I nearly cum, but pull him off me, as I jump up and quickly zip up my pants. I head upstairs to the roof deck; I must have been visibly upset because the security man at the door stops me and asks me if I'm okay as I press past him on my way up the stairs.

The night is warm and the sky is clear as I make my way to the far end of the deck and peer down to the sidewalk below. Someone approached and tries to start a conversation but I ignore him, feeling flustered and upset... and horny. My head is spinning from a combination of alcohol and the rush of what just happened downstairs.

Before long I end up back downstairs, stopping off in the bathroom for a pee. As I stand at the middle urinal a leatherman in full gear approaches and stands off to my right side, watching me, rubbing the cod piece of his jock. I finish my business and drop to my knees, taking the leatherman's dick into my mouth. Someone from behind says, "Hey look, fuck he's hot!' then puts his hand on my head as I work this leather-daddy's dick. I reach around and grab his ass, but it's flat, soft, and mushy. I left go, suddenly not finding this man very attractive anymore. At the same moment security enters the room and tells everyone to clear out.

At this point I've had enough and I head for the door. It's about 3:00 a.m. and the streets are quiet, which surprises me for New York City. I walk almost three blocks and don't see a single moving car. As I walk eastward through midtown Manhattan I feel a mix of exhilaration and weirdness, and a funny sense of loneliness. Rather than calming me the quiet of the city makes me feel isolated and cold. The anonymity is at once reassuring and disquieting.

It's the fact that I cheated on my partner, that I knew I was going to hide the fact, that I knew how much of a hypocrite I had become, that bothered me more than anything. Why is monogamy so hard to maintain? "No! this happened once, and I won't let it happen again! No one needs to know about tonight," I reassure myself. I've never done this sort of thing before, and as much as the attention made me feel attractive and desired, I feel I've crossed a threshold somehow, opened a door that leads in a direction I know not where. What have I started?