My unsolicited interpretation. A nazgul is anything but playful. A nazgul is death. You came to T cloaked in the garb of death, and talked about the period of your life when you felt most alive. In many ways sex is our robust "f uck you" to death. Us saying, "Ha, ha, death. I'm so alive, I'm cumming." Tack on your T's reproductive reflections about feeling like your wife's fertile body was giving you everything (aka immortality through spawning), and it seems like the whole session was about death. It is the ultimate authority we'd like to tweak on the nose, but of course we can't really. We can only put on a show of bravery, of defiance like a child taunting a dog on a chain. Once that chain is cut we're all fu cked. Reproduction is only illusory immortality--the immortality of our DNA not of us.

Just some thoughts...