This is all about sex, so if you don't want to read, wait for the next entry, or go read my last one.
Now that everyone is paying extra attention RE: sex, I've got some theories. I think I haven't been getting laid enough. Silly, I know, but really it's true. For the past few nights I've been getting progressively hornier. Tonight was no exception.
After plans fell through for the evening (what a surprise) I was left with little to do. I opted for a pizza, a bottle of wine and some Sex and the City. Throw some glitter and some pink pillows around my couch and I'm about as gay as it gets.
Well, I've watched about as much as I can take, so I get up and head for the computer. But there it is, that damn itch! I checked out Craigslist for a laugh, and saw the picture of a guy I'd slept with last year. It was fun, he was a man of few words, but he'd talked to me a few times in between, so I figured we might still have another go round.
I signed into my crusing account, and lo and behold the Buddy comes online. I instantly messaged him, kicking off the conversation, not really knowing what to expect.
While I'm waiting for that to get going, I reply to a few CL ads. I get an e-mail back from a very cute guy, and we also start chatting online.
Of course, my fuck buddy David is nowhere to be found, considering he has some sort of thing called a 'life'. But he did leave me a message on my birthday saying he can't wait to come over and give me my present. Whatever could that be?
I'm very amused at the fact I have a fuck buddy at all. It just sort of grew out of our having sex more than once, and our mutual interest in keeping it going. It's not nearly as flashy as Hollywood depicts it, with the midnight booty calls and looks of lust across a crowded restaurant. In actual fact, he can't say sex, fuck, or otherwise indicate we're going to bed with each other. Instead, he simply says, lets 'hang out'.
Of course, he jerks me around endlessly, but he's good in bed, and as I mature and grow into this thing called a gay sex life I've learned how to deal with it and keep the fun in the 'fun' category. Plus, it's damn convenient not having to order out for sex with someone new.
I prioritize my time with the new guy online. His picture reminds me of a boy from home, who was on the swim team. He was never a crush, because we never knew each other, but he was probably the cutest boy in his grade. That made this new guy even more interesting. I offered to have him over, and he seemed hesitant, saying maybe I should go over there.
Then he said that his 40-year-old roommate was home. Oh, and he'd like to watch.
The sad thing is, I seriously considered it. And if that 40 was a 30, or even a 35, I might have gone along with it. But even if I am diversifying my sex life, I'm not at the stage where I want guys that age watching. It smacks of over-bearing control, of someone being taken advantage of. Maybe I'm insane and don't understand that sexual dynamic yet, but I just wasn't feeling it.
I explained that to him, all the while becoming more wary. He tried to get me to come over, telling me he only does this once a year, and he won't want to next week. Of course, in the previous sentence he was telling me how cool it was for his roomie to watch him and this other guy fool around recently. The weird vibes were outweighing the good ones, and I ended our conversation. I felt badly though, wondering if this kid was being kept under the thumb of some twisted molester-type. But don't quote me, because I don't know all the facts.
With that behind me, I went back to the Buddy. Remember, this isn't David the fuck buddy, this is just Buddy from a million years ago. We started talking dirty, and I was surprised to see he remembered some of the things we did. He wants me to moan for him. Apparently, he likes that.
Also, apparently, he's more vocal online than he was in person, because it got really graphic, really fast. Which lead to me loosing some clothes, really fast. I've never gotten into that cyber/fantasy/phone-sex thing before, but we were going full out. Not the best sex I've had, but certainly not the worst.
And, it whetted his appetite. He's going to come by sometime soon, he says, for our official round two.
Some of you by now are doubtlessly wondering how I plan on keeping a relationship if I'm interested in fucking three different guys nearly simultaneously. Well, I've got two modes, and would be more than happy to divert all my sexual energy to one cute ass than to three. Its a hard decision to make if your relationship is going to be open and allow for certain dalliances outside of your traditional sex life, or to be completely monogamous. Either way, I'm more than willing to give it up for a boy who'll actually be around to have coffee with me in the morning.
While sex isn't going to give me a social life, especially when I'm picking up online and not at a club, it did help me blow off some steam. Even if it was just e-steam.
Showing posts with label David. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David. Show all posts
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
My night...
The months had felt like years, but flown by too quickly to remember.
I arrived at the apartment feeling jittery and nervous and needing a drink. This sometimes (always) happens when I'm meeting someone, the flux between horny excitement and cold questioning that seems to insert itself into the moment. Really this should not have bothered me, because David has been coming over for a while now, only interrupted by the summer months and my temporary relocation ("Why are you living out there?").
My roommate and I sat at the new old kitchen table, me swigging quietly from a glass of gin and tonic and her pulling from a pre-bottled cocktail. The sun beat through the windows and gave the room a sickening shimmer of heat, pushed away every few beats by gusts of cool air. Tension lifted and we talked about our evenings and she said, "I hope you have a good time," and got in the shower.
The next few hours were spent idly watching the clock, paging through a forgettable paperback left under the coffee table and sipping from a new glass of gin and tonic. He was supposed to show up at 10:30, and by midnight I was getting nervous again. Finally the phone vibrated and he was downstairs worrying his car would be stolen or he would be shot and how can I live in such a fucking ghetto?
I opened the door to him and he smiled with his big lips pushed apart. I smiled sleepy and lightheaded and we took a tour of the apartment where he stopped and sat on my bed. I offered him a drink, closed my door and sat down.
The next several minutes were spent on how summer sucks when you don't got anywhere and how many different job's he had that went nowhere. I forgot to ask him about a road trip he was going on. Then he pulled his wallet and phone out of his pants and lay down on the bed. I pulled the chain on the bulb beside him and lay down.
Over the next two hours we moved around every imaginable angle grasping each other's bodies. He was on his game, more interested than I'd ever seen him before, and I fueled from his energy. The stress and nervousness and worry (this is the first sex you'll have in months...) were gone and all that was left was lust and pleasure.
He finally came while I was inside him, a quiet acknowledgement seconds before the oh-oh-oh's and then I came and we collapsed onto each other and my breath was ragged and the sheets were soaked. Time stood still as the curtain played back and forth in the breeze.
We stood naked in the dark, the angles of his body barely visible and after hearing a noise he says, "Is someone home?"
"Sure, probably. My roommate was out earlier..." It's now 3, and I'm not surprised she's home.
"Cool. Is she hot?"
"I guess. Yeah." I think about it for a few more seconds, but that sounded right.
"So would she let me fuck her?"
I tilted my head. "Probably not. She likes her boyfriend."
He giggled and said too bad and just stood there. We waited there, waiting for the other to give a cue for the next move.
I offered him a shower and he accepted while I tip-toed out to see if my roommate was home. She smiled slyly as she opened her door and I laughed with guilt and at the fact I had just slept with a boy in my new apartment while my friend was home and it was OK.
We all went out for a smoke on the balcony and he introduced himself to her ("I do really want to meet these boys, you know...") and they shook hands. He talked about his school and she talked about her classes and I sat there not saying much because I was tired and spaced out. David inhaled, then exhaled, talking nonstop about his favorite clubs and where all his friends go and where they might be tonight. There was talk of some friend-of-a-friend he knows who's dating Amanda Bynes, and I realise that he really does know (or thinks he knows) people who know people. He then talks about his dreams to move to California with a friend who wants to get a record deal and how he might go because it's great out there, it's all he's wanted to do in life.
"But what's in California?" she asks, because she can't see past Toronto.
"Everything," I say from my chair, and David giggles again.
I tune out his praise for L.A. and wonder why he's so interested in talking to her anyway and shouldn't he be going home soon because it's getting late?
She excuses herself and he sits for a few more minutes dragging on his third smoke. Finally he runs out of things to say and I sit there because I never had anything to add anyway, so instead he gets up and motions to leave. We get to the door and he makes another joke (seriously though) about getting shot on the way to his car and I tell him not to worry, turning the handle. He sticks out his hand for a high-five and I grab it awkwardly not really believing this is happening again.
"Is that how you do it on the west side?" I ask, expecting a more complicated hand motion, but he laughs. "Not really."
Then he's gone, loneliness filling his previously occupied space. I get a glass of water because my head is starting to hurt, then I slide into bed with my roommate who's watching some rerun on TV. We talk for a few minutes about our nights and I start out really happy because I'd had great sex but realize how odd it had been. It all came crashing in, all of a sudden, and I shut my eyes but it didn't block out the dim flicker of the TV.
I was 'that guy'. You know, 'that guy' that he sleeps with between trying to pick up girls in his social circles and pretending he doesn't like bottoming in bed. Part of me wonders if his musician friend knows where he is tonight. I feel strange, because it's not like the casual times like before where its just gay sex and everyone goes home. I'm playing some part in the theatre of his life, a cutout from some novel. This amuses me because I never thought I could get involved in these 'complicated' social affairs, but it's filled with self-doubt. Please, let me go back to 1953 when nobody had sex and good boys read their bibles before bed and marry the girl from down the road and everything is simple with little room for though.
Moments go by and I realize she's talking to me, asking why I said it was a little depressing. Quickly I explain that all I really want is someone to hold and be there the next morning and actually be interested in me, and not ask to fuck the female roommate as soon as I've pulled out of his ass.
"I wonder if I'll ever see him again," I whisper more to myself than to her, but she sits up and asks why. I know why (because I'm less than just a one-time hook-up) but I just say, "Just a feeling I guess." I pull her tight and tell her I love her and she says it back and how it's nice I'm living down her hall, then I slip out of bed and into my own room.
I change the sheets and open the window to change the stench of sex for some exhaust fumes, pulling out new sheets for the bed. A moment later and I'm under the stream of the shower trying to get the latex smell off of me and ignoring my headache.
I finally go to bed at 4:03.
I arrived at the apartment feeling jittery and nervous and needing a drink. This sometimes (always) happens when I'm meeting someone, the flux between horny excitement and cold questioning that seems to insert itself into the moment. Really this should not have bothered me, because David has been coming over for a while now, only interrupted by the summer months and my temporary relocation ("Why are you living out there?").
My roommate and I sat at the new old kitchen table, me swigging quietly from a glass of gin and tonic and her pulling from a pre-bottled cocktail. The sun beat through the windows and gave the room a sickening shimmer of heat, pushed away every few beats by gusts of cool air. Tension lifted and we talked about our evenings and she said, "I hope you have a good time," and got in the shower.
The next few hours were spent idly watching the clock, paging through a forgettable paperback left under the coffee table and sipping from a new glass of gin and tonic. He was supposed to show up at 10:30, and by midnight I was getting nervous again. Finally the phone vibrated and he was downstairs worrying his car would be stolen or he would be shot and how can I live in such a fucking ghetto?
I opened the door to him and he smiled with his big lips pushed apart. I smiled sleepy and lightheaded and we took a tour of the apartment where he stopped and sat on my bed. I offered him a drink, closed my door and sat down.
The next several minutes were spent on how summer sucks when you don't got anywhere and how many different job's he had that went nowhere. I forgot to ask him about a road trip he was going on. Then he pulled his wallet and phone out of his pants and lay down on the bed. I pulled the chain on the bulb beside him and lay down.
Over the next two hours we moved around every imaginable angle grasping each other's bodies. He was on his game, more interested than I'd ever seen him before, and I fueled from his energy. The stress and nervousness and worry (this is the first sex you'll have in months...) were gone and all that was left was lust and pleasure.
He finally came while I was inside him, a quiet acknowledgement seconds before the oh-oh-oh's and then I came and we collapsed onto each other and my breath was ragged and the sheets were soaked. Time stood still as the curtain played back and forth in the breeze.
We stood naked in the dark, the angles of his body barely visible and after hearing a noise he says, "Is someone home?"
"Sure, probably. My roommate was out earlier..." It's now 3, and I'm not surprised she's home.
"Cool. Is she hot?"
"I guess. Yeah." I think about it for a few more seconds, but that sounded right.
"So would she let me fuck her?"
I tilted my head. "Probably not. She likes her boyfriend."
He giggled and said too bad and just stood there. We waited there, waiting for the other to give a cue for the next move.
I offered him a shower and he accepted while I tip-toed out to see if my roommate was home. She smiled slyly as she opened her door and I laughed with guilt and at the fact I had just slept with a boy in my new apartment while my friend was home and it was OK.
We all went out for a smoke on the balcony and he introduced himself to her ("I do really want to meet these boys, you know...") and they shook hands. He talked about his school and she talked about her classes and I sat there not saying much because I was tired and spaced out. David inhaled, then exhaled, talking nonstop about his favorite clubs and where all his friends go and where they might be tonight. There was talk of some friend-of-a-friend he knows who's dating Amanda Bynes, and I realise that he really does know (or thinks he knows) people who know people. He then talks about his dreams to move to California with a friend who wants to get a record deal and how he might go because it's great out there, it's all he's wanted to do in life.
"But what's in California?" she asks, because she can't see past Toronto.
"Everything," I say from my chair, and David giggles again.
I tune out his praise for L.A. and wonder why he's so interested in talking to her anyway and shouldn't he be going home soon because it's getting late?
She excuses herself and he sits for a few more minutes dragging on his third smoke. Finally he runs out of things to say and I sit there because I never had anything to add anyway, so instead he gets up and motions to leave. We get to the door and he makes another joke (seriously though) about getting shot on the way to his car and I tell him not to worry, turning the handle. He sticks out his hand for a high-five and I grab it awkwardly not really believing this is happening again.
"Is that how you do it on the west side?" I ask, expecting a more complicated hand motion, but he laughs. "Not really."
Then he's gone, loneliness filling his previously occupied space. I get a glass of water because my head is starting to hurt, then I slide into bed with my roommate who's watching some rerun on TV. We talk for a few minutes about our nights and I start out really happy because I'd had great sex but realize how odd it had been. It all came crashing in, all of a sudden, and I shut my eyes but it didn't block out the dim flicker of the TV.
I was 'that guy'. You know, 'that guy' that he sleeps with between trying to pick up girls in his social circles and pretending he doesn't like bottoming in bed. Part of me wonders if his musician friend knows where he is tonight. I feel strange, because it's not like the casual times like before where its just gay sex and everyone goes home. I'm playing some part in the theatre of his life, a cutout from some novel. This amuses me because I never thought I could get involved in these 'complicated' social affairs, but it's filled with self-doubt. Please, let me go back to 1953 when nobody had sex and good boys read their bibles before bed and marry the girl from down the road and everything is simple with little room for though.
Moments go by and I realize she's talking to me, asking why I said it was a little depressing. Quickly I explain that all I really want is someone to hold and be there the next morning and actually be interested in me, and not ask to fuck the female roommate as soon as I've pulled out of his ass.
"I wonder if I'll ever see him again," I whisper more to myself than to her, but she sits up and asks why. I know why (because I'm less than just a one-time hook-up) but I just say, "Just a feeling I guess." I pull her tight and tell her I love her and she says it back and how it's nice I'm living down her hall, then I slip out of bed and into my own room.
I change the sheets and open the window to change the stench of sex for some exhaust fumes, pulling out new sheets for the bed. A moment later and I'm under the stream of the shower trying to get the latex smell off of me and ignoring my headache.
I finally go to bed at 4:03.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Simply complex...
...or complexly simple?
This thing going on with Daivd is deceptive. It could be as simple as I'm the guy he goes to for sex. Or it could be that I represent something outside of his norm, so he embraces me when he wants to/can. Or it could be that maybe we're building up to something. Slowly.
After his texts a while ago, I called him. Surprise surprise, he didn't answer his phone. I left a message...then impatiently sent him a text message an hour later. I know him, he doesn't seperate from his cell (at least he puts it on silent when he comes by), so I was a little miffed when he didn't get back to me for hours...
Finally we connected. I was cramming for my last exam, and he was begging to come over.
"Just for a little while..." he said. "I'll help you study, serious."
I mulled for about 2 seconds. While it would be nice to see if he'd actually spend time with me, I didn't want to put myself in a compromised position when it came to my exam. He rode me a little for being such a 'good student', which as I'm well aware this semester I wasn't exactly going to get a gold star for attendance...we agreed to meet the next evening.
Halfway through my exam the next day, while I was taking a 2 minute break, my mind flashed to him. "He he," I thought to myself. "I got a boy waiting for me when I finish this thing!"
When I got home, he called to tell me he was about 10 minutes away. I chucked my books in the corner, threw the room into some sense of order, and waited. He arrived, and we crashed on my bed. I reveled in my newfound freedom, being finished all my academic requirements for this semester, and conversation turned to our summer plans. I didn't want to say, "Gee, I guess this means I won't be seeing you until September," and truth be told it didn't really enter my mind. I was just enjoying his company.
We then moved on...and enjoyed each other's less communicative company. It was much the same as last time, with his very intimate approach to sex. We held each other, carassed, explored...finally, we both collapsed onto each other and let the breeze cool us down.
"How about a back rub?" he suggested. I inwardly rolled my eyes, knowing he would want one at some point, but I didn't necessarily mind. I rolled on top of him and proceeded to loosen his muscles. Somewhere along the line, his hand met mine, and he pulled me in so I lay on top of his back. We snuggled there for a while, and I kissed his neck.
He let out a low moan. I kissed again, and got the same response. Moving up and down, I gently grazed his neck, and he pulled me closer to him. I was really hitting a spot, and I get the feeling this was the first time he'd noticed how a non-sexual body part can be so sexually stimulating.
We moved around, giving me access to his crotch. I grabbed his cock and started beating him off slowly, all the while paying attention to his neck. By now he was writhing with pleasure, and I'll admit I was getting off on it too.
Moments later, his breathing quickened, and his moaning became sharper. I pulled my head up to see him shoot all over his chest, past his shoulder and onto the pillow holding up his head. He slumped down, breathing hard and lay there stunned.
"Wow," he said. "That was fucking hot."
He appologized as we cleaned up, saying he'd never shot quite that far before...I laughed because not only did I not mind, I thought it was pretty hot myself. He gathered himself together and checked his watch. After a few mintues of conversation he invited me along shopping with him...which unfortunately I couldn't do because I had dinner plans for later that night.
A few days later, he texted me again. I replied, just saying hi, but he didn't get back to me. Then, this Friday night, he texted me. "Hey buddyyyyyyy!" he sent, at 2 a.m. I didn't reply because, well, I wasn't awake then, and I wasn't even downtown anymore...
So we've got 'something' going on. And I hope it doesn't end because summer is here...I want to have that option open when I get back in September. Besides, I can always visit during the summer months...
I'm just afraid that I haven't approached this with the proper mindset. After writing this all out, it looks like he's basically interested in just sleeping with me when he's free and wants to. If I want to procede with that, and I'm not opposed to it, I have to accept the fact that he's probably not going to want anything more. But I've been given some strange things for my over-active imaginaiton to fuel on, in the hopes that maybe it's not just simply sex. After all, he's very conversational and genuine when we're together. He's invited me out (albeit not 'out'), which shows that he doesn't mind spending time with me. But there's enough evidence that he's only in it for the sex to make me think I'm being too naive about it.
I guess I've just got to get myself to accept that if we're destinted to become regular fuck-buddies, he's probably not going to want anything more.
This thing going on with Daivd is deceptive. It could be as simple as I'm the guy he goes to for sex. Or it could be that I represent something outside of his norm, so he embraces me when he wants to/can. Or it could be that maybe we're building up to something. Slowly.
After his texts a while ago, I called him. Surprise surprise, he didn't answer his phone. I left a message...then impatiently sent him a text message an hour later. I know him, he doesn't seperate from his cell (at least he puts it on silent when he comes by), so I was a little miffed when he didn't get back to me for hours...
Finally we connected. I was cramming for my last exam, and he was begging to come over.
"Just for a little while..." he said. "I'll help you study, serious."
I mulled for about 2 seconds. While it would be nice to see if he'd actually spend time with me, I didn't want to put myself in a compromised position when it came to my exam. He rode me a little for being such a 'good student', which as I'm well aware this semester I wasn't exactly going to get a gold star for attendance...we agreed to meet the next evening.
Halfway through my exam the next day, while I was taking a 2 minute break, my mind flashed to him. "He he," I thought to myself. "I got a boy waiting for me when I finish this thing!"
When I got home, he called to tell me he was about 10 minutes away. I chucked my books in the corner, threw the room into some sense of order, and waited. He arrived, and we crashed on my bed. I reveled in my newfound freedom, being finished all my academic requirements for this semester, and conversation turned to our summer plans. I didn't want to say, "Gee, I guess this means I won't be seeing you until September," and truth be told it didn't really enter my mind. I was just enjoying his company.
We then moved on...and enjoyed each other's less communicative company. It was much the same as last time, with his very intimate approach to sex. We held each other, carassed, explored...finally, we both collapsed onto each other and let the breeze cool us down.
"How about a back rub?" he suggested. I inwardly rolled my eyes, knowing he would want one at some point, but I didn't necessarily mind. I rolled on top of him and proceeded to loosen his muscles. Somewhere along the line, his hand met mine, and he pulled me in so I lay on top of his back. We snuggled there for a while, and I kissed his neck.
He let out a low moan. I kissed again, and got the same response. Moving up and down, I gently grazed his neck, and he pulled me closer to him. I was really hitting a spot, and I get the feeling this was the first time he'd noticed how a non-sexual body part can be so sexually stimulating.
We moved around, giving me access to his crotch. I grabbed his cock and started beating him off slowly, all the while paying attention to his neck. By now he was writhing with pleasure, and I'll admit I was getting off on it too.
Moments later, his breathing quickened, and his moaning became sharper. I pulled my head up to see him shoot all over his chest, past his shoulder and onto the pillow holding up his head. He slumped down, breathing hard and lay there stunned.
"Wow," he said. "That was fucking hot."
He appologized as we cleaned up, saying he'd never shot quite that far before...I laughed because not only did I not mind, I thought it was pretty hot myself. He gathered himself together and checked his watch. After a few mintues of conversation he invited me along shopping with him...which unfortunately I couldn't do because I had dinner plans for later that night.
A few days later, he texted me again. I replied, just saying hi, but he didn't get back to me. Then, this Friday night, he texted me. "Hey buddyyyyyyy!" he sent, at 2 a.m. I didn't reply because, well, I wasn't awake then, and I wasn't even downtown anymore...
So we've got 'something' going on. And I hope it doesn't end because summer is here...I want to have that option open when I get back in September. Besides, I can always visit during the summer months...
I'm just afraid that I haven't approached this with the proper mindset. After writing this all out, it looks like he's basically interested in just sleeping with me when he's free and wants to. If I want to procede with that, and I'm not opposed to it, I have to accept the fact that he's probably not going to want anything more. But I've been given some strange things for my over-active imaginaiton to fuel on, in the hopes that maybe it's not just simply sex. After all, he's very conversational and genuine when we're together. He's invited me out (albeit not 'out'), which shows that he doesn't mind spending time with me. But there's enough evidence that he's only in it for the sex to make me think I'm being too naive about it.
I guess I've just got to get myself to accept that if we're destinted to become regular fuck-buddies, he's probably not going to want anything more.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Resurfaced...
Having thought I'd never hear from David again, I was to say the least a little surprised yesterday morning.
Doing my usual morning routine, checking messages and e-mails and the general state of the online world, I came across a message he'd left on my Facebook. It said simply "chills?", which I take to me hi, how's it going, whats new, etc...all wrapped up in a nice little word.
As you all know by now, I tend to analyze everything I see. So when I see this message, left for me from the middle of the night before, I wondered what exactly he was saying. Was he testing the water? Since 2 weeks ago I haven't spoken a word to him, I've been really busy and just expected not to hear from him anytime soon.
I let it sit for the day, and messaged him back last night, just saying hi and how I can't wait for exams to be over (which I can't, by the way...hurray tomorrow and my final one!). I figured what the hell, I'll talk to him online soon and see whats up.
Again, last night he left another response, this one more words (but still under 10 I think...), and said to call him. Usually with people, that's just a polite thing to say, and I again promised myself to go online and talk to him soon, if he and I even catch each other on IM.
Today at 3:30 p.m. he texted my cell, "hey hey".
What the hell does all this mean!? I don't want to give him the cold shoulder, but I have no idea what to say when I call him. After the confusing night we spent together I just decided he was a really sweet but ultimately unatainable guy, and had gotten comfortable with the idea of maybe just dropping him a line again next year to see if anything had changed.
Ugh. Well I suppose I should call him...
Doing my usual morning routine, checking messages and e-mails and the general state of the online world, I came across a message he'd left on my Facebook. It said simply "chills?", which I take to me hi, how's it going, whats new, etc...all wrapped up in a nice little word.
As you all know by now, I tend to analyze everything I see. So when I see this message, left for me from the middle of the night before, I wondered what exactly he was saying. Was he testing the water? Since 2 weeks ago I haven't spoken a word to him, I've been really busy and just expected not to hear from him anytime soon.
I let it sit for the day, and messaged him back last night, just saying hi and how I can't wait for exams to be over (which I can't, by the way...hurray tomorrow and my final one!). I figured what the hell, I'll talk to him online soon and see whats up.
Again, last night he left another response, this one more words (but still under 10 I think...), and said to call him. Usually with people, that's just a polite thing to say, and I again promised myself to go online and talk to him soon, if he and I even catch each other on IM.
Today at 3:30 p.m. he texted my cell, "hey hey".
What the hell does all this mean!? I don't want to give him the cold shoulder, but I have no idea what to say when I call him. After the confusing night we spent together I just decided he was a really sweet but ultimately unatainable guy, and had gotten comfortable with the idea of maybe just dropping him a line again next year to see if anything had changed.
Ugh. Well I suppose I should call him...
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Hold me...
I woke up this morning with David naked in my bed, face-down in a pillow.
He rolled over, sungled close into me, and drifted back off to sleep. I smiled to myself, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the warmth radiating off his body. It felt so good to have someone beside me.
Later on, his hands started wandering...and one thing led to another...
He finally decided to get up and leave about 8:30 a.m., but still didn't know how he was getting home. I was puzzled at the fact that someone would (and could) so easily make the decision to spend the night without the faintest clue how to get around the next morning. He seemed so together, so prepared, but he paced my room, flipping through his cellphone trying to find someone (though I still don't know who) for a lift home.
I pulled on my robe, and we walked to my door. He stuck out his hand, smiled as we shook, and said, "Good luck with class today. Drop me a message later, and I'll see you later."
Yes, the evening was full of contradictions.
* * * * * * *
He got to my place at around 10:30 p.m., and we met downstairs. He was taking a long pull on a cigarette when I rounded the corner, and he smiled as smoke curled from his mouth. Out came his hand, we shook, and I studied him face-to-face.
Definately as cute as I'd thought, my height (a definate turn-on), with a certain air about him. We chatted, which consisted of him doing most of the talking about the concert he'd been at that evening. After a few minutes, we headed inside.
He dropped his stuff and sat on my bed, obviously comfortable. I liked that, he seemed at home and happy to be there. I got us each a beer, and we sat there and talked for over an hour. Conversation came from all parts of our lives, school, future plans...he really is an interesting person.
All through these plesantries, I couldn't help but continually wonder what exactly was going on. He was talking. To me. Getting to know me, and letting me know him. This was the most I've ever talked to someone on an occasion when it wasn't a date. I still didn't know what to think, but he laid down on my bed, exposing his back, and sighed.
"You know, I'd really go for a back rub."
I inwardly rolled my eyes. His personality is somewhat self-centred, but he has a redeeming interest in talking and engaging with the person he's talking to.
I don't mind giving back massages, but I don't exactly know what I'm doing. Sure, it seems simple enough, but I don't like to do a half-assed job. If I'm giving a back rub, I want to hit the right spots with the right pressure, and really get the reciever enjoying it. I've given a few of these, but I never know if I'm doing it right.
"Ummm...." he sighed, satisfied. "You're really good."
Huh. There you go. I guess I'm not so bad!
Time passed, I got tired of running my hands over his still-clothed back, so I rolled over beside him. He waited a few beats, then pulled me close and wrapped himself around me. We lay there for what felt like forever, holding, caressing, kissing...it was profoundly intimate.
Shirts came off, then pants, as we continued to kiss and cuddle. Finally, the underwear came off, and we proceeded on to below-the-belt massaging.
The second half of the evening was enjoyable, but the sex wasn't as good as I had expected. He was eager and willing to do pretty much anything, and was a very hands on guy. It was still quite intimate, and slow paced. We savoured, enjoyed, and didn't hurry through anything.
* * * * * * *
Finally, we finished, and lay next to each other. I was exhausted, he must have been too. But after a minute, he rolled over and grabbed his phone.
"What time does the subway close?" he asked, checking the time. I told him 2, that he had less than 10 minutes to get dressed and run all the way to the station. He muttered to himself as he debated...I started to get a little offended. After all, we'd just had this intimate, close, personal sex, and he was trying his hardest to find a way home.
10 mintues later, he gave up. "I guess I'll chill here for a while," he said, and shoved his face in a pillow. I looked at him, shook my head, and lay down. What the hell!? One mintue, he's doing this intimate get-to-know-you thing, next he's disinterested and distant.
But moments later, he'd rolled over, throwing his arm around me. I smiled, and drifted to sleep.
For the rest of the night we stuck pretty closely together, wrapped in each others arms. I tried to ignore the confusion, and enjoy the moment.
* * * * * * *
Once he left, I crawled back into bed, and immediately fell into a deep sleep. I awoke feeling refreshed and alive, and I replayed the evening in my mind. I'm still not sure what the hell happened, or what I meant to him, or what he means to me. I don't know if it was a date, then sex, or a hook-up with that touch of personality, or just a random night. Whatever the case, I still don't understand the close-then-distant-then-close flow of the evening. I guess I'll just have to leave the next move up to him.
He rolled over, sungled close into me, and drifted back off to sleep. I smiled to myself, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the warmth radiating off his body. It felt so good to have someone beside me.
Later on, his hands started wandering...and one thing led to another...
He finally decided to get up and leave about 8:30 a.m., but still didn't know how he was getting home. I was puzzled at the fact that someone would (and could) so easily make the decision to spend the night without the faintest clue how to get around the next morning. He seemed so together, so prepared, but he paced my room, flipping through his cellphone trying to find someone (though I still don't know who) for a lift home.
I pulled on my robe, and we walked to my door. He stuck out his hand, smiled as we shook, and said, "Good luck with class today. Drop me a message later, and I'll see you later."
Yes, the evening was full of contradictions.
* * * * * * *
He got to my place at around 10:30 p.m., and we met downstairs. He was taking a long pull on a cigarette when I rounded the corner, and he smiled as smoke curled from his mouth. Out came his hand, we shook, and I studied him face-to-face.
Definately as cute as I'd thought, my height (a definate turn-on), with a certain air about him. We chatted, which consisted of him doing most of the talking about the concert he'd been at that evening. After a few minutes, we headed inside.
He dropped his stuff and sat on my bed, obviously comfortable. I liked that, he seemed at home and happy to be there. I got us each a beer, and we sat there and talked for over an hour. Conversation came from all parts of our lives, school, future plans...he really is an interesting person.
All through these plesantries, I couldn't help but continually wonder what exactly was going on. He was talking. To me. Getting to know me, and letting me know him. This was the most I've ever talked to someone on an occasion when it wasn't a date. I still didn't know what to think, but he laid down on my bed, exposing his back, and sighed.
"You know, I'd really go for a back rub."
I inwardly rolled my eyes. His personality is somewhat self-centred, but he has a redeeming interest in talking and engaging with the person he's talking to.
I don't mind giving back massages, but I don't exactly know what I'm doing. Sure, it seems simple enough, but I don't like to do a half-assed job. If I'm giving a back rub, I want to hit the right spots with the right pressure, and really get the reciever enjoying it. I've given a few of these, but I never know if I'm doing it right.
"Ummm...." he sighed, satisfied. "You're really good."
Huh. There you go. I guess I'm not so bad!
Time passed, I got tired of running my hands over his still-clothed back, so I rolled over beside him. He waited a few beats, then pulled me close and wrapped himself around me. We lay there for what felt like forever, holding, caressing, kissing...it was profoundly intimate.
Shirts came off, then pants, as we continued to kiss and cuddle. Finally, the underwear came off, and we proceeded on to below-the-belt massaging.
The second half of the evening was enjoyable, but the sex wasn't as good as I had expected. He was eager and willing to do pretty much anything, and was a very hands on guy. It was still quite intimate, and slow paced. We savoured, enjoyed, and didn't hurry through anything.
* * * * * * *
Finally, we finished, and lay next to each other. I was exhausted, he must have been too. But after a minute, he rolled over and grabbed his phone.
"What time does the subway close?" he asked, checking the time. I told him 2, that he had less than 10 minutes to get dressed and run all the way to the station. He muttered to himself as he debated...I started to get a little offended. After all, we'd just had this intimate, close, personal sex, and he was trying his hardest to find a way home.
10 mintues later, he gave up. "I guess I'll chill here for a while," he said, and shoved his face in a pillow. I looked at him, shook my head, and lay down. What the hell!? One mintue, he's doing this intimate get-to-know-you thing, next he's disinterested and distant.
But moments later, he'd rolled over, throwing his arm around me. I smiled, and drifted to sleep.
For the rest of the night we stuck pretty closely together, wrapped in each others arms. I tried to ignore the confusion, and enjoy the moment.
* * * * * * *
Once he left, I crawled back into bed, and immediately fell into a deep sleep. I awoke feeling refreshed and alive, and I replayed the evening in my mind. I'm still not sure what the hell happened, or what I meant to him, or what he means to me. I don't know if it was a date, then sex, or a hook-up with that touch of personality, or just a random night. Whatever the case, I still don't understand the close-then-distant-then-close flow of the evening. I guess I'll just have to leave the next move up to him.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Unreliable (pt. 2)...
Well I can't complain about inconsistancy.
Tonight was the reschedual with David from last night. He'd be all ready to meet me after the concert I went to, and we'd grab a late dinner and so on...
He called me at 8:30, just before the show started, to say hi and check in on me. I then called him back at 10:45 after the show, and didn't get an answer...so I called again when I got near my place at 11...
Finally, as I sat in front of my computer to check if he was online, he phoned. The essay that's due tomorrow morning still isn't finished, he said, and he really wanted to come but he NEEDS to finish this essay by tonight. I wasn't really surprised, after being constantly let down this week I was prepared for him not to be free. I was still really disappointed though...
What makes it worse is that he's such a nice guy. For some reason, I've got this crazy attraction for him (a guy I've never even met yet!). Every time we talk I get the butterflies going on, and I really can't wait to actually get to spend some time with him. He says the right things without being overly polite, was talkative and generally sincere. I want to be mad at him, to tell him forget it, but I'm left just feeling more disappointed than mad.
I think (read: hope) I'm not crazy for being so interested in this guy. I've talked to several guys online, and none of them have gotten the same reaction out of me. So it's not like I'm always falling for fantasies of these guys all the time...it's just him. I can't even believe how illogical I'm being about it; how could I even know if we get along having never actually met yet? But I guess affairs of the heart are all about not making sense.
The new plan, if it holds up until then, is to meet Monday evening, since I'm going to be at home for Easter weekend. He'll come down, we'll do dinner or drinks, and actually get to spend time together. But I'm already prepared for him to say he's not free.
The other impossible situation that I can't get an answer for is what exactly is going to go down when we finally meet. Originally it was a hook-up site that brought us together, then we did the talking thing, and he came off like he wanted to actually not just hook up randomly. That struck me as pretty great. After more talking it seemed like he was really a good guy, interesting, charming, etc etc etc...so I started to question what exactly would happen when we met.
I asked him, as near to blunt as I could be without scaring the crap out of him, if we were going on a date or just having sex. He said he'd never just sleep with someone, he wants to get to know me, and hang out with me. The topic of dating came up, and he said that he doesn't date much, he's very picky. I asked him what picky meant, and he laughed and didn't really give me an answer. So I'm now completely confused, since he was supposed to spend the night tonight I'm assuming we were going to sleep together, but then all this quasi-date stuff too...
Possibilities include the fact he may be waiting to meet before he actually decides if I'm 'dating material', or that he just likes to get to know people before sex, or that he's just really smooth and playing me completely. He made so many references to us maybe/maybe not sleeping together, and how he'd never just have sex and leave...which all plays towards the dating side. Or have I discovered a new type of guy, the one who hooks up but only after having a drink with you first?
Tonight was the reschedual with David from last night. He'd be all ready to meet me after the concert I went to, and we'd grab a late dinner and so on...
He called me at 8:30, just before the show started, to say hi and check in on me. I then called him back at 10:45 after the show, and didn't get an answer...so I called again when I got near my place at 11...
Finally, as I sat in front of my computer to check if he was online, he phoned. The essay that's due tomorrow morning still isn't finished, he said, and he really wanted to come but he NEEDS to finish this essay by tonight. I wasn't really surprised, after being constantly let down this week I was prepared for him not to be free. I was still really disappointed though...
What makes it worse is that he's such a nice guy. For some reason, I've got this crazy attraction for him (a guy I've never even met yet!). Every time we talk I get the butterflies going on, and I really can't wait to actually get to spend some time with him. He says the right things without being overly polite, was talkative and generally sincere. I want to be mad at him, to tell him forget it, but I'm left just feeling more disappointed than mad.
I think (read: hope) I'm not crazy for being so interested in this guy. I've talked to several guys online, and none of them have gotten the same reaction out of me. So it's not like I'm always falling for fantasies of these guys all the time...it's just him. I can't even believe how illogical I'm being about it; how could I even know if we get along having never actually met yet? But I guess affairs of the heart are all about not making sense.
The new plan, if it holds up until then, is to meet Monday evening, since I'm going to be at home for Easter weekend. He'll come down, we'll do dinner or drinks, and actually get to spend time together. But I'm already prepared for him to say he's not free.
The other impossible situation that I can't get an answer for is what exactly is going to go down when we finally meet. Originally it was a hook-up site that brought us together, then we did the talking thing, and he came off like he wanted to actually not just hook up randomly. That struck me as pretty great. After more talking it seemed like he was really a good guy, interesting, charming, etc etc etc...so I started to question what exactly would happen when we met.
I asked him, as near to blunt as I could be without scaring the crap out of him, if we were going on a date or just having sex. He said he'd never just sleep with someone, he wants to get to know me, and hang out with me. The topic of dating came up, and he said that he doesn't date much, he's very picky. I asked him what picky meant, and he laughed and didn't really give me an answer. So I'm now completely confused, since he was supposed to spend the night tonight I'm assuming we were going to sleep together, but then all this quasi-date stuff too...
Possibilities include the fact he may be waiting to meet before he actually decides if I'm 'dating material', or that he just likes to get to know people before sex, or that he's just really smooth and playing me completely. He made so many references to us maybe/maybe not sleeping together, and how he'd never just have sex and leave...which all plays towards the dating side. Or have I discovered a new type of guy, the one who hooks up but only after having a drink with you first?
Monday, April 2, 2007
Boring Monday Blues...
Another fascinating Monday has passed me by.
I didn't sleep last night, rather tossed and turned in an attempt to mimic sleep. This cold that's been following me around since last week refuses to go away, and my body was rebelling against being sleep-deprived and abused. How do actual hardcore partygoers do it?...I mean one night and I'm done.
Today was an essay, pretty much all day. I stepped out for food and tea, and to pick up some over-the-counter medecines, and ended up spending $20 at the drug store. How can this junk cost so much! It probably won't even do anything (except maybe put me in a drug-induced sleep).
Last night Brian texted me asking if I wanted to do something today. Why does this boy have such an issue with picking up the phone and calling me? I texted back this morning saying yes, let me know when and where...and still haven't heard back. Honestly, what the hell!? I'm at the point where I'm almost ready to give up the notion that we're going to pull off this friendship thing, what is his problem!?
I also eagerly awaited the phonecall from the guy I talked to last night, whom I'll name David. So far he came online once, but was set to away, then went offline.
David is Jewish, and tonight is the first night of Passover (Shalom to my Jewish friends). So I'm guessing he's having a big family dinner thing, or doing some other family commitments. I don't want to call him because I don't want to interupt anything...but I also don't want him to think I'm not interested. I'll drop him a quick e-mail later and say hi.
Otherwise, I'm just about ready to go to bed and try to get some real sleep! Enjoy your evenings, friends.
I didn't sleep last night, rather tossed and turned in an attempt to mimic sleep. This cold that's been following me around since last week refuses to go away, and my body was rebelling against being sleep-deprived and abused. How do actual hardcore partygoers do it?...I mean one night and I'm done.
Today was an essay, pretty much all day. I stepped out for food and tea, and to pick up some over-the-counter medecines, and ended up spending $20 at the drug store. How can this junk cost so much! It probably won't even do anything (except maybe put me in a drug-induced sleep).
Last night Brian texted me asking if I wanted to do something today. Why does this boy have such an issue with picking up the phone and calling me? I texted back this morning saying yes, let me know when and where...and still haven't heard back. Honestly, what the hell!? I'm at the point where I'm almost ready to give up the notion that we're going to pull off this friendship thing, what is his problem!?
I also eagerly awaited the phonecall from the guy I talked to last night, whom I'll name David. So far he came online once, but was set to away, then went offline.
David is Jewish, and tonight is the first night of Passover (Shalom to my Jewish friends). So I'm guessing he's having a big family dinner thing, or doing some other family commitments. I don't want to call him because I don't want to interupt anything...but I also don't want him to think I'm not interested. I'll drop him a quick e-mail later and say hi.
Otherwise, I'm just about ready to go to bed and try to get some real sleep! Enjoy your evenings, friends.
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