Wangster Tears

I had a massage client who would only be touched through saran wrap, and that wasn't the strangest thing about him... He was about 60, in great shape, a traveling nature photographer who got his start many decades before with National Geographic. He often hired me to model nude in nature while he snapped pictures and insisted on also being naked himself. This was very strange for unsuspecting passersby! 

  Well, one day he comes over for a massage, always with a new roll of saran wrap, and he begins oiling himself with his special oil, and then lies face down on my massage table. I cover his body in the saran wrap, careful to overlap each piece, then douse him in even more oil. Its a tricky thing to massage someone through saran wrap, but so it goes. When he turns over, readytp have his front chatrooms in saran wrap, he holds up a finger and asks me if he can share something with me. "Of course, you can tell me anything". He sighs and looks into my eyes for a long time before he stands up and pulls a red bandanna out of his back pack, and then a white mens tank top, and then... two long gold chains and a "diamond" stud clip on earring... He ties the banana around his balding head in typical 90s gangster fashion. He slips on the white tank top which has arm holes down to his waist. He snaps on the single clip on earring. To finish, he proudly puts the long gold chains over his neck. His eyes are closed during his transformation, he takes a deep breath in, smiling contentedly. His eyes slit open and he calmly admits, "Babydoll... This is the REAL me." He pounds his chest with his fist and makes a west side hand sign thing.. I have a horrible urge to laugh hysterically, but I remember my ACT theater training and keep character. Instead I exclaim, "Wow, why do you hide who you really are?" His mannerisms, his voice, his movements are completely different, but he is still a 60 something year old nature photographer. He adapts what he imagines is a gangster accent. "Baby, baby... dis is who I am when I fuck.. and I wanna fucccccckkkk you up! Mmm!" He puts his hand to his chin while he nods, looking me up and down. I can't laugh, i can't laugh, i can't laugh... "I'm so flattered! But actually I don't fuck, I just touch.. No touching me though, especially in that way, I'm so sorry if that's a disappointment." He looks disgusted, "Bitch I ain't tryna touch you! I'm just gonna rub around on some saran wrap kinda fuck you. My skin is clean AS FUCK, nothing touches me". I am curious. Aren't you?!? Hahaha! I help my gangster friend get mummified in saran wrap, his ancient boner tucked straight up against his belly and he is tightly encased in clear wrapping from chest to thighs. "Quit dis hippie shit, put on some dope beats.." I gladly switch the music to TechN9ne, the only rapper I had on my phone. He starts nodding his head back and forth, his eyes closed. He raises his fists up then starts pounding chest chest again to the beat of "Jellysickness". "This is sick, who dis?" I smile politely, "This is Tech N9ne, I'm glad you like it". He squints his eyes, "Oh yeah I know this Dawg, we go waaaaay back. We homies. Hes got naaaaaasty bitches alllll sound him! Yeah! I like it!" Then he steps closer to me, suddenly serious... "Dance like you my hoe". I am kind of a hoe in a way sho I just dance like me, and he doesn't knife the difference anyways. I wonder if he has ever had any real life experience at rap concerts or the lifestyle he's pretending to be a part of.. "uhhh that's goood... yeah, you nasty! Oh yeah, get low baby!" I cannot keep a straight face for this, but it's ok to grin while dancing so it works. He steps closer until hes right up against me, "Keep dancin my hoe, yeah, real slow... yeah, slowwwer..." his accent starts to break and for a few moments he touches his saran wrapped body against mine, his eyes closed. Then he cries out like a hurt eagle, "AhhhhhhhhhhAhhhhAhhhhhhAHHHHH!" It goes on for almost two of the most awkward minutes of my life (actually... there have been so so many..). Then he is still and I realize he came in his clear mummy suit. He starts crying... I don't know what to do! I can only touch him on the Saran wrap as I learned dramatically the first day he came to me. I pat his chest, "Its ok, why are you crying? Everything's ok..". Then he really starts sobbing hard. "Can I pay you for another hour?" He chokes out and looks up at me with soggy eyes. "Ok, do you want to talk?", I ask.  "NO!" and here starts sobbing again and curls up in the fetal position on the couch, still encased in the saran wrap, his mess dripping out the bottom into the couch! "UHHH.. maybe you want to take a shower and get dressed? Showers always make me feel b-", "NO!!!" he shouts back, still sobbing into the couch. "Ok, no worries." I try to be silent and just be there 'holding space' for his deep inner shame and sorrow and frustrations. Also, I am a Scorpio though so the silence doesn't last. "How did you come to realize you're a Gangster fucker?" It feels like I'm living a South Park episode.. He stops sobbing and takes a deep sigh. "It was the late nineties... I just found out about internet porn... I saw this perfect video of this beautiful black man fucking... my...." He breaks into sobs again. "Yesssss?????" I prod him on, horribly curious. "My.... my... MY WIFE!... my ex-wife..." And he's sobbing again. I am suddenly so sad for this man who is clearly in deep unresolved pain with no one to help him through it. "Wow, I'm so sorry. That sounds really hard to find out like that." I wonder if he's making this up, and I will never know. He silently whimpers, "I can fuck her.. like that.." and cries and cries for about 30 long minutes where I just don't know what to say except a few comforting phrases here and there. Finally he stops, unwraps himself, showers and gets dressed in his normal grandpa attire complete with nylon mens hiking pants pulled up top his waist with a tucked in button up, a bird watcher sun hat, his white tennis shoes.. No trace of sad, betrayed gangster on his face, he smiles at me as if nothing ever happened and then! He shook my hand! Skin to skin. I like to think it was a breakthrough for him.