Sex can often be an expression of love, but what happens when you or someone you love can no longer perform sexually?
That's the reality that Dave and his husband David faced in 2005 when David's degenerative neurological condition had become so severe, physical mobility lower than the neck was no longer possible.
"The Daves" were in their mid 40s and had been together for nearly twenty years. Even before gay marriage was legal, they had taken the same vows as if it was, and they were committed to staying together no matter what. While their love remained unchanged, their ability to have sex became impossible due to David's physical condition. They said they went from having sex 4-6 times a week to nothing over the span of two years. David confessed that, even though he could rationalize that he shouldn't, he began to feel shadows of guilt creeping in because he was no longer able to give Dave sexual pleasure. As David admitted this to me, Dave stroked the back of David's head and said that it was fine because he could always jack off and that was way faster anyways. They both smiled, but there was pain behind the eyes at this loss of a major expression of their intimate love and the situational reality that their relationship was on borrowed time as David's health continued to decline.
Will was my mentor and a close personal friend of The Daves. He mentioned their situation to me over a discussion on how the role of being a bull is, at its core, about being a surrogate for something missing in someone else's relationship. Sometimes it's passion, or energy, or a physical difference like having a big dick. And sometimes, it's much more.
"Will told us that he has been working with you and thought that you'd be able to help us out. I can't give him (Dave) a good fuck any more. Shit, I can't even give him bad fuck even if I want to because of this," David joked, looking down at his wheelchair, before becoming more serious. "But what I can give him is a night with you. I want you to..." He struggled for the right word. "Not 'fuck', not 'make love', something in between. I just want you 'to be' with my husband for the night."
I told them that I was honored that they considered me for something like this and I hoped I wouldn't disappoint them.
"Will showed us ALL the good pics, and there's nothing disappointing there," Dave said. We laughed, finished our coffees, and made plans while going over details.
Friday night, I got to their apartment and let myself in as Dave was still prepping in the shower and David couldn't get to the door easily for obvious reasons. Their apartment was sparsely furnished, probably intentionally arranged that way to allow David's chair to get around more easily. On the walls were pictures of them together from less complicated times; pictures from a cruise, photos from their first Pride together, and even pictures of the two of them running a Bay To Breakers fun-run dressed as Calvin and Hobbes. All these memories from a time when they probably never imagined that today would look like today.
"Hey there, nosy, " Dave greeted me as he came around the corner. "See, proof that I did have abs at one point in life," he joked, pointing to the Pride photos. "We both were kinda hot, I think."
"You were...I mean are. You know what I mean. You guys make a cute couple," I told him. "You look so happy."
"We were," he said wistfully before catching himself and forcing a smile. "We are. See, now you've got me doing it. So... David's in the room already. Hope you don't mind, but it's going to be in the guest room since the bedroom is, well, it's our place, if you know what I mean. Can I get you anything before though?"
"I totally understand, and I'm good, thanks," I replied.
He led me to the room where David was already seated, facing the foot of the bed.
"How are you two feeling?" David asked.
"Honestly, a little nervous," I told them with a wink.
