Lord, grant me sleep (part 1)...

Well, I've had a great past couple of days. It all went back to Valentines...

I got off the bus way too early, successfully missing my stop and having to walk for what felt like hours in the cold to get to Brian's place. Finally I walked up to the bus shelter where he was waiting for me, and had been for a bit of time. He didn't seem to mind all that much, and we took off for his place.

His apartment, like that of so many students, was semi-dirty, slightly delapidated, and painted multiple, ugly colours. It turned out that Brian had made up a bunch of food for us, and we stood awkwardly in his kitchen as we 'cooked' the frozen pizza and other stuff. I met his roommate Ryan, whom I'll talk about later...I felt a little uncomfortable, since I was on a date, on Valentines, with a boy who goes to my school, and a roommate who does too.

I'd resolved on my way over that, if things turned out like I was expecting them to, I would stop and tell Brian I'm a closeted bisexual and not an out gay guy. We'd never talked about it before...and I didn't want to go to bed with him not telling him the truth. Even though I was terrified about being thrown out...I couldn't live with myself, considering this wasn't some guy who I picked up for sex, this was a guy I've been out on dates with, who might turn into something more.

As the food cooked, I pulled out a heart-shaped box of Lindt chocolates I'd bought for him. He seemed really happy that I'd gotten him something, and he presented me with a card and a box. I opened the card first (because I'm so damn polite) and read it to myself. Underneath the card's contents he'd written:

"I hope you have a great V-Day...stuck with me. =)"

Ahh, self-depricating humour. How I love thee.

Inside the box was a bag of cinnamon hearts, and two 'novelty dice' with some pretty boring yet somehow explicit instructions. Ah ha, you wouldn't be giving these to someone unless you inteded to use them, right?

We ate and watched Sex and the City. After we finished eating we snuggled up, his hand playfully rubbing me in all sorts of places. Then we kissed for the first time. It was really all romantic-like, very much a vomit-enducing scene I'm sure, but hell, I was having the best Valentines day of my life. I got to spend it with someone who I liked, and who had a thing for me.

As the credits rolled on another episode of Sex, I pulled away from his lips and looked down at the floor. I've gotta get better control over myself in these situations...I felt nautious and lightheaded as I tried to form the words.

"There's something I've got to tell you. I'm not out. Just to a few people, and I'm in the process, but I'm not out."

I paused while I waited for the axe to fall.

"Thats ok."

"There's more...I'm actually not gay. I'm bisexual. I hope thats all ok with you..."

"Yeah, I don't care."

What!? He doesn't care?

"Just, I've found that guys usually hate closeted guys, or closeted bisexuals...and..."

"No. It's fine."

Stunned at the fact I didn't have to plead out my case to him, and that I wasn't being escorted from his couch, I moved in for another kiss. Time went by, and somewhere along the line my shirt came off. But when I moved to pull his over his head, he stopped me. After muttering a few things, he resumed kissing me.

Great, now what do I do? I'm sitting here, no shirt on, making out with a guy who refuses to take off his. Do I put mine back on? Do I sit here? Am I being too upfront?...I opted to sit there with no shirt on until I had more information.

We cracked a bottle of wine and dug into some iced cream as we watched another episode. Time seemed to fly by, but stand still as we snuggled and groped on the couch, now fuled by wine (and iced cream, the ultimate aphrodesiac). Finally, we stood up and moved to his bed. Laying there, we lost our clothes, and held each other's newly exposed naked body. He rolled me on top of him, grabbing my cock in the process, and started beating me off. He was surprisingly agressive, but changed his speed constantly. After several position shifts, he leaned his head down my stomach and started going down on me.

This was a surprising turn, considering the fact that a while ago he didn't want to get naked. But now he seemed fully into it, his head bobbing around with abandon. I was pretty impressed with the job he was doing, and pretty soon I was blowing a really big load across my abs and chest. Naturally I started to return the favor, but he stopped me halfway through.

"I cum really easily," he said sheepishly, adding "but I can usually go 5 or 6 times a night." Ahh, quantity, but would it be over quality?

After we were both finished and collapsed into each others arms, we resumed talking. He told me about his past relationships, and how he didn't like to just hook up and have sex with anyone. He only wanted to sleep with someone he knew and liked, not just met an hour ago. I was flattered, and a little scared. Had I pushed myself on him? Did I pressure him into bed with me?

But he looked into my eyes, and in this crazy way he has, made me smile. I asked if everything was all right, and he confirmed that he'd wanted to, it was all fine. He put on the radio to our local jazz station, lit up a few candles, and we laid back and snuggled.

Honestly, I don't remember how many times we got off that night, but it'd be safe to say several. We finally passed out at about 4, but it wasn't long before he'd rolled me over and we were at it again...but I don't usually keep those kinds of hours.

It was the most amazing evening. I got to experience a relationship with a guy from the very start, the first date flirting, and the eventual comfort that takes hold when sitting on the couch, making out and watching TV. I can't believe how amazing it feels to be wanted by someone else, and have it so plainly evident. The flattery hasn't gone to my head, but all of this, and on my typical 'lonely Valentines Day' was a lot to take in.