Batman’s Return, Part 3

In my dreams.

In my dreams.

After it was over, he continued to hold me close to his body.  He made no effort to remove his shrinking member from my ass, and as we lay there quietly listening to each other as our breathing began to synchronize, I knew I’d have sweet dreams that night.  And then we drifted off to sleep.

When the morning came, the sun was streaming in through the open windows over my bed, bathing the room in the early morning light.  Despite my remarkably restful nights sleep, I had moved in the night and was now facing Batman, with our heads mere inches apart, sharing the same pillow.  As I stretched myself awake I slowly opened my eyes to see my new lover, looking sweetly back at me, just watching me sleep.  “Mmmmm,” I cooed.  It was an automatic reaction as I stretched.

“Good Morning,” Batman softly spoke to me.  “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmmm,” I repeated, as I opened my eyes and smiled.  “Good.  How about you?”

He smiled back at me.  “Really good.  I’m so happy to be here with you,” he said as he brought his right hand up to stroke my cheek.  For a brief moment we were silent as I closed my eyes and enjoyed the loving caresses of his hand on my face.

As he moved his hand down and placed it on the back of my shoulder, as if to hold me close, but still maintain a safe distance, I looked up into his eyes, again, and asked, “What happened between you and Mrs. Batman?”  It was time for the talk we hadn’t had the night before.

For a moment his face hardened, as if encountering a painful memory, and then just as quickly his countenance returned to the softness I was used to.  “After you moved out, I tried to get back to my old life.  I missed you and I was really sad that our friendship hadn’t survived the experience.  But I understood why it hadn’t.  I thought I had done the right thing, standing by my wife and against Bat-Mother-in-law-”

“You did,” I interrupted.  “She was wrong to try and come between the two of you.”

“I know,” he replied, “But I’m really sorry she used you to try to do it.  That wasn’t fair to anyone.”  He paused for a moment, as if lost in some memory.  “But what I didn’t realize at the time was that you meant a lot more to me than just a friend and I realized, after you were gone that I had really lost a lot.  I loved my kids and I truly cared about my wife but I realized, when it was too late, that I really cared for you too.”  His face was now very somber and I could feel the pain in his words.   I reached out to him, placing my left hand on his bicep.  He was still holding on to me, and I stroked his arm lightly.  He looked into my eyes and smiled faintly again.  “After that, something changed with Mrs. B and me.  I wasn’t exactly angry, but I couldn’t really stand for her to touch me either.  Before you moved out, she and I discussed having another child.  After you were gone it was clear, she really wanted one, but I wasn’t so sure.  Things had definitely changed between us.  Mrs. B would make advances and I continually made excuses not to be with her.”

“But you did have another child,” I stated, confused.

“Yes we did.  You have to realize this process went on for almost seven years.  I had to have sex with my wife if I wanted to keep my marriage intact.  Every once in a while, I even wanted to.  I started drinking more and before long I was drinking too much most days.  Over the course of a few years, I went from believing I was straight and that drinking made me feel open to more possibilities with men, to feeling like I only wanted to be with a man and drinking made it possible for me to have sex with my wife.  Eventually, there was so much distance between us that we had no choice but to discuss it.

“She turned to me one morning while we were getting ready for work, I was in the shower and she was brushing her teeth, and she asked me, ‘why don’t you ever want to be with me anymore?’  I was totally caught by surprise and I tried to sidestep the question at first but she wouldn’t let me.  She said that for years now, I’d been very evasive and that most of the time when she was feeling amorous I had some excuse as to why it wasn’t a good time.

“I wanted to tell her that she was wrong and everything was fine but it was clear she wasn’t going to accept that…  And you’d be surprised just how truly vulnerable you feel  when you’re completely naked and the only route of escape is blocked by an angry woman.”  He smiled now as we both laughed lightly.  In spite of the somberness of the moment, I was beginning to sprout a little wood at the mental image of him naked in the shower, all soaped up, with his Army issue dog tags hanging between his mocha colored erect nipples, jingling quietly as he scrubbed his body clean, and for the first time since arriving at my apartment the night before, I was glad we had some space between us and he couldn’t feel my inappropriately timed hard-on.  “I hesitated for a moment, turned the water off, opened the shower door and looked at her.  I could see in her eyes, that no matter what, she wanted the truth.  So I took a deep breath and before I could think better of it and stop myself I told her, ‘It’s because I’m gay!'”

I felt like I was living in that moment as I felt his body tremble with the memory of the fear he felt that day.  I remembered how I felt the first time I told someone I was gay and how hard it was to hold my hands steady, let alone my voice.  I resisted the urge to reach out and pull him closer to myself as I sensed that if we didn’t finish this conversation now, we might never finish it.  With wide eyes, I asked, “What–  How — I can’t even imagine what her reaction was to that!”  I had learned enough about Mrs. B to know that she wasn’t very tolerant of behaviors that didn’t satisfy her.

“No you can’t.  She threatened to kill me.  She threatened to Bobbitize me.  And then she threw my towel at me and told me to get out.  I packed a bag before I left for work, not knowing what to expect when I came home.  I ended up spending a couple nights in a hotel and then I got an apartment with a six month lease.  I wasn’t ready to accept that my marriage was over, and yet at the same time I felt so much better having come forward and finally told her the truth of my feelings.”

“Did you tell her you had feelings for me?”  I didn’t mean to be insensitive but given how the story had gone I couldn’t help but feel somehow responsible for what had happened.

“No!” he said.  “By this time I’d assumed I’d never see you again and this was about me and my feelings.  I had slowly but surely grown to be attracted to men and was constantly checking out hot guys, everywhere I went.  Turned out she’d noticed and had her suspicions for a while.  I guess she just wanted to hear me say it.  Anyway, it took a little while and things got really ugly for a time but we finally sat down together, just the two of us, without our lawyers, and discussed the whole thing.  I explained to her that when I married her, I honestly didn’t think I was gay, and that I loved our children no matter what.  I even care about her.  I just had learned this new thing about myself that couldn’t be ignored any longer.  That’s when we agreed, that I’d move back into the house with my own room.  Thanks to the VA, we had gotten a grate mortgage on a nice big house and it has two master suites on either end.  We agreed that I’d move back in and we’d raise our children together as one unit and that we’d have our individual love lives, too.”

“Wow.  That’s really amazing…”  I paused, looking into his eyes and trying to decide what to ask next and how to ask it.  “So…  Last night…  You were meeting…  a… date?”

Batman pulled his hand away from my shoulder, as if it had been on fire and he was suddenly feeling the heat and I could see his body tense up.  Without thinking I reached out and took hold of his hand, placing it on my chest and holding it in place.  “It’s OK,” I told him, reassuringly.  “Nothing you tell me is going to change what’s happening here.”

He took a deep breath.  “After Mrs. B and I split up, I began to explore this other side of my self.  At first I just really needed to know what it was all about.  To be honest, I did some things that, looking back on it, I’m not really very proud of.  But once I knew what I’d been missing all those years I couldn’t get enough.  I have profiles on several of the top gay dating sites.  Last night was a semi-random hook-up that was set up on one of those sites.  I’m thinking now, though, that it’s time to shut that down.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, smiling, “we might get some mileage out of those sites yet!”  I grinned at him, deviously.  “So you’re not exactly new to all this, then.” I said, more than asked.

“No,” he answered, “I’m not.  I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Are you kidding!  Last night probably wouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was if we were both novices.  I’m glad you knew what you were doing.  God knows, I wouldn’t have.”

He smiled, “So you’re not mad?”  I smiled and shook my head as I gazed into his eyes.  “When I first saw you last night, I knew this was what I wanted.  I just didn’t want you to be mad that I was… experienced.”  I raised my left hand and rubbed his hair back away from his face and caressed the back of his head.  With that, he reached out and pulled me close, wanting to hold me tightly again, like he had the night before.  And then he pulled his head back to look at me with pleasant surprise on his face.  “Well, hello!” he said, as he looked toward the middle of my body.  Hidden under the sheets, my semi-hard cock had poked him in the crotch.  I pulled him close and kissed him deeply and passionately on the lips.

Batman,” I said, “I’m happy to have you back in my life, and even happier to have you in my bed.  I can only be grateful for whatever lead us to this moment!”  As I leaned in for another kiss, he took control again and rolled over on top of me, lying between my legs, our erections building as they were pressed between our bodies, side by side like two baguettes in an oven.  He was kissing and licking my chest and neck, nibbling on my ear lobes when I said, “You are so good at this!  I’m so impressed!

“This is the easy part,” he pointed out, “What I did last night is the part that should impress you.  I don’t do that very often.”

I placed my hands on his muscular shoulders and pushed him up, looking incredulously into his eyes.  “What do you mean you don’t do that very often?” I asked, shocked.  “You sure seemed like you knew what you were doing to me!”

He smiled back at me and said, “I have done it, and I do know what I’m doing, but I kind of prefer to be on the receiving end of a good ass fucking, if you know what I mean.”

Indeed I did.  “So you’re more of a catcher than a pitcher?” I said.

“That’s not really the commonly used terminology, but, yeah, I guess you could say that.  I’m versatile, but I do enjoy being the one to get fucked.”

I just looked at him for a moment, shocked by what I was hearing.  Finally, I spoke up.  “Why did you–  I mean, if you prefer to–  Wh– huh?  What happened last night?”

“Well,” he started with a laugh, “I wanted to give you pleasure last night.  I wanted to give you as much of myself as I could and I hoped I could do that by showing you what is, to me, one of the most pleasurable parts of being gay.  I hope I was right.”

“Well, yeah.  I mean, it was really incredible, but, well, I think it should go both ways, don’t you?”

“Sure,” he answered exuberantly.

“I want to–  I mean.  Can I–  I think I’d like to try it.”

“Try it?” he asked.

“Yeah.  I mean, if you think it’ll be good, I want to… to…  be the top?”  I asked, feeling foolish for not knowing the terminology.

His grin grew exponentially as he said, “OK.  If you think you’re up to it,” and as he said the word “up” he grasped my cock which was already quite hard.  “You need to be good and hard, or it won’t really work for you.  Maybe I can help ensure that!” he said as he began to stroke and kiss my growing hardness.

I stretched my body out flat to enjoy my lover’s ministrations.  As my cock grew harder and the sensations more intense I lifted my arms above my head, reaching for the headboard of my bed where I grabbed hold of the rods, thinking how perfect this bed was for a little bondage action.  Perhaps next time (if there would be a next time – God I hoped for a next time) we could explore more deeply, the sexual options available to us.  As Batman worked on my cock I remembered the escapades of the night before and felt the familiar sensations of my cock in his throat.  When he felt that my cock was sufficiently solid, he reached for one of the condoms that I had brought from my goody drawer the night before, opened the package and began to seductively roll it down my solid, throbbing cock.  The he reached for the bottle of lubricant I had provided and turned it over above my dick squeezing a generous amount out onto the tip of my shrouded dick.  He smiled at me and said, “Are you ready?”

“I sure hope so,” I said, as he climbed up onto his knees and straddled my body.  He reached down and took hold of my throbbing member at the base, holding it upright and placing the tip at the opening of his waiting hole.  I felt a little pressure on my otherwise stiff pole and then I saw him sink down the full inches of my dick as I felt the tight pressure of his guts holding tightly onto me.

“You are officially fucking me,” he said joyfully as he grinned broadly at me.  “How does it feel?”

“It’s incredible,” I said, “How does it feel for you?”

“You are awesome,” he said.  “Your dick is hitting all the right spots.”  I wasn’t really sure what that meant, but I knew, from what had happened while he was fucking me the night before that there were great sensations to be felt while riding a stallion and I was happy to oblige him.  He sat down hard, on my balls that hung just below his ass hole at this point and pulled his feet up underneath him and then he reached back and put his hands down on my thighs.  He began raising and lowering his body on my solid rod and the sensations were amazing.  Up and down, up and down, he continued to impale himself on my healthy member.  I could tell by the look on his face, the way his eyes were closed and he was biting his lower lip, that he was enjoying what he was experiencing.  He repeatedly looked down into my eyes and then closed his eyes and threw his head back.  As he was controlling the rhythm and depth of my penetration I reached down and lightly took hold of his cock that had been sticking out in front of him bouncing to his movement and slapping my abdomen with each inward penetration.  It felt so soft and smooth.  As I gently pulled on it to the beat of his own movements, I again felt the pre-cum oozing little by little out of the slit at the end of his cock.

As it became clear that he was tiring from his exertions I reached out for him and he collapsed forward onto my chest, still riding me and squeezing my dick with his sphincter and Kegle muscles, milking me for all I was worth.  He kissed me deeply and I wrapped my arms around his back.  Now I was in control and I rolled to my right ending up on top of him with his legs on either side of me.  I took hold of his ankles and pressed his legs toward his head, slightly raising and spreading his ass cheeks for a better angle of approach.  Now Batman was lying on his back and I was kneeling at his tunnel of love.  I took hold of my cock which had begun to shrink slightly and stroked it a few times, through the condom to return it to full mast.  After a few masturbatory strokes I was ready to enter him again.  I placed the tip of my cock at the pucker of his anus.  I looked down at him and he nodded.  I leaned forward slightly, placing some extra weight on his sphincter.  It was clear he was used to this because my cock head slipped right past the outer ring of his ass.  Once the initial pop of that that barrier was complete, I slid right in to the hilt.  I could feel my balls, hanging below and resting against the his Bat-cheeks and for a moment I was reminded of the hard pounding I’d received the night before as his hips slammed into my ass cheeks.

I started out slow, this was all new to me, after all.  Once I got the hang of it though I began to really get into it.  Thwap, thwap, thwap.  My thrusts were hitting home and his bat-cheeks were beginning to redden, just as I had imagined mine had done the night before.  As I was holding his legs up and apart, Batman reached down with his right hand and began to slowly stroke his cock as he used his left hand to twist and tug on his nipples.  I watched him jerking it and I looked at his face and saw how he was truly enjoying this fucking I was giving him.  Thwap, thwap, thwap.  This was such an incredible experience and I didn’t want it to end but I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer.

Suddenly I knew.  If it had to end, I knew how I wanted it to happen.  I let go of his ankles, reached down and took hold of his wrists, taking them away from his dick and nipples and I collapsed on top of him, pinning his arms down above his head and licking and kissing every bit of his torso as I continued to, Thwap, thwap, thwap.  It wouldn’t be long now.  And then he took a cue from my moans and began actively milking my full cock with his sphincter muscles.  Within just a few moments I began convulsing as I was filling my the condom with my own fluids just as he’d done to me the night before.  As the last few pumps were shoving the last of my cum from my cock, I kissed him passionately, so grateful for the opportunity to return the favor that he’d done for me the night before.

As I pushed myself back up onto my knees to remove my waning erection from his tender ass and removed the condom I looked down and realized that his erection was still hard as a rock.  “Let me help you out with that,” I said, as I lay down next to him for a closer vantage point.  “Mmmmm” was all he could manage as I took his nine inch dick into my hands and began running my tongue up and down it like a candy cane at Christmas.  While fondling his dick with my mouth I used my left hand to rub and tug on his balls, while simultaneously pressing a finger into his taint.  I’ve always been a quick study and I wanted to show my appreciation by giving him every bit as much pleasure as he had given me.  From the involuntary movements of his body I could see I was on the right track. I continued to manipulate his balls and put pressure on his perineum as I opened up and took the top of his penis into my mouth for the first time.  It tasted salty but good and I lightly sucked on it, drawing some of the fluids out of the slit at the tip.  His dick was rock solid by now and I was leery at first but I was determined to return the favor he’d done for me, so I began to press my mouth down on his shaft.  It felt so good to have so much of him inside my mouth, but I knew I was about to get into trouble.

Suddenly, I began to choke and sputter as I pushed his leaking member too far into my mouth and had to back off before I gagged myself.  “Are you alright?” He asked me.

“Yeah.  I guess so,” I said.  I just don’t know how you did it!”

“Just relax,” he told me.  “If you’re tense about it your throat will never open enough to let it in.  Just take it slow and easy.  And if you can’t take it all the way, it’s ok.”

I took a deep breath ready to give it another shot.  I leaned down again, ready to give it my best.  I was working the shaft and squeezing his balls and breathing deeply to relax myself and give it another shot.  Suddenly I felt him moving and as he turned toward me, he leaned forward to take my own growing cock into his mouth.  I couldn’t believe I was actually ready to go again after such a short time, but more importantly I couldn’t believe I was actually engaged in my first 69 position with another guy.  My cock was quickly returning to a fully erect position and as I worked on his dick I suddenly slid down to the hilt and found myself sniffing his balls as they were pulling up close to his body preparing to loose their load, and his dick was in my throat.  I was feeling really close myself and I was completely amazed as we both shot another simultaneous load deep into each other’s throats.  Beep, beep, beep.  I felt like I’d shoot into his throat, forever.  “What is that sound?” I heard him ask.  Strange that he could speak so clearly while my cock was still shooting into his gut.

Beep, Beep, Beep.  Pulse after pulse after pulse of cum shooting into my throat.  “That’s just my alarm clock,” I said.  Wait!  His cock is still in my throat!

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.  “Oh shit,” I sighed.

As I opened my eyes, I realized that my alarm had been screaming at it’s top volume for several minutes, working at it’s maximum effort to wake me from this glorious dream.  As I moved forward on the mattress to turn off the offending device atop my night stand, I felt the familiar, wet and sticky sensation of my cum on the sheets.

The entire thing, may have only been a dream, and I’d mourn the loss of that relationship, all over again, but at least I’d gotten a good orgasm out of the deal, and how could I possibly complain about that.  Where ever you are, out there, Batman, I do still miss you.  And I do still love you and I only wish that my dream would somehow come true!

Getting “In The Game”

I was a painfully lonely child.  Even while most kids with siblings have built in best friends, my sibs hardly wanted anything to do with me as a child.  I desperately needed for someone to love me and want me around.  Ex Con Older Brother and CPA Sis are only two years apart and always had more in common with each other than either had with me.  For reasons I may never be able to understand, I wasn’t really ever able to make friends with people my own age, and so I spent a lot of time after school and on the week-ends being alone.

“Mommy,” I used to say to Vengeful Mother, “I’m bored.”

“So find yourself something to do,” she would respond.  “It’s not my responsibility to entertain you.”  Even Vengeful Mother didn’t want to spend time with me.

I rarely ever considered the idea of having a little brother or sister.  I couldn’t remember when my parents were married and so for me to have a little brother or sister would require someone to have sex outside of marriage and, well, that of course was out of the question!  So while, from time to time, I wished for a built in best friend like my siblings had in each other, I never really seriously considered the desire.  So I was painfully lonely.

I used to overhear ECOB And CPA Sis talk about “The Game”, and I had no idea what they were talking about.  Finally one day I learned that they had an imaginary world, known simply as “The Game”, wherein they pretended to be other people, with other lives.  Generally older than they really were, with spouses and families and friends that didn’t really exist.  And I wanted in.  They, of course wouldn’t allow it, so as usual I was out in the cold to play my own game.  So, play my game I did.

richardsimmonsI used to have great fun playing my game.  As a very young child I was completely enamored with Wonder Woman, but of course I was a boy and I knew I was not permitted to want to be a girl.  (In truth, I didn’t really want to be a girl, I just didn’t have a lot of imagination.)  So I pretended I was Wonder Man.  (I never knew there really was a Wonder Man character.) I imagined I had the little red boots with the white stripe and the slight heel.  As to the rest of my costume, well, as I just said, I didn’t have much of an imagination but I had to “masculinize” Wonder Woman’s costume for myself…  So imagine, Richard Simmons… feeling very patriotic…  That’s pretty much what my imaginary Wonder Man costume looked like, complete with the golden lasso, bullet proof cuffs and boomerang crown naturally!  Of course if I’d known then, what I know now…  I might’ve imagined myself looking a little more like this:

wondermanI used to run around the yard outside our after school care ladies house kicking my heels into my butt cheeks (because that was how Wonder Woman ran so fast, dontchaknow) and making the ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch sound whenever I’d “jump great distances.”  This, by the way was the same sound I made while “performing great feats of strength”, when I pretended I was The Six Million Dollar Man.  ECOB and CPA Sis pretended not to know me.

I used to love MacGyver.  I hadn’t taken any significant science classes at that point (and come to find out I’d suck big harry nuts at science) but I thought he was the shiz.  Plus, he was blond.  Something I always wanted to be but never was… Not naturally anyway.  He was attractive.  I could tell because CPA Sis and Vengeful Mother both really liked him.  I always got a happy feeling when I’d see him on the screen.  So at one point I wanted to be MacGyver.  (As a side bar:  With the resurgence of “old time” TV shows lately (Bionic Woman, Knight Rider, 90210) they should totally make a new MacGyver.  I’m thinking Ryan Reynolds or maybe that guy from Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer” video (shirtless at all times of course.) I’d do ‘im– er, watch him.)

I always liked The Facts of Life, and, go figure, Jo Polniaczek was my favorite girl.  I knew I was supposed to like girls and of the options, she was the least girlie, black or fat.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I always liked Jo, for real, but if I was supposed to like a girl, she was the one.  And at the time I thought I was sincere.

So for a while there, “in the game” I was MacGyver and I was married to Jo Polniaczek, living in Mrs. G’s house and sharing the household responsibilities with the other girls and their husbands (Yes.  The four of them all still lived in the house.)

For a brief period of time in 1988 I even pretended I was Mario Van Peebles, a la “Sonny Spoon” and I was married to Olympic Figure Skater Debi Thomas.  I know they say that “Once you go black, you never go back”, but this phase didn’t last very long and when it was over, it was all white guys from then on, for me.

Eventually, Ex Con Older Brother outgrew “The Game”, and CPA Sis wasn’t ready to call it quits, so suddenly, I was old enough to play.  I still remember, from time to time, whenever one of us would learn something new about someone, or find a new celebrity or character we liked, we’d change “The Game”.  At one point CPA Sis and I were both infatuated with MacGyver at the same time.

“In the game, I’m MacGyver,” I said.

“You can’t be.  I want to be married to him,” was her reply.

“Hmmm.  Ok.  Then….  I’m his twin brother GyMacver.”  I replied.  (I don’t think I really fucked with the name like that, but who knows.

On other occasions:

“In the game, MacGyver is sitting right here next to me with his arm around me helping me with my homework.”  Guess which of us said that.

The worst was when I was spending the night at my friends house (we’ll call him the Pickle) once and I thought it would be cool to let him in on the fun.  I told him about the game and that in the game I was MacGyver and I was married to The Bionic Woman, and then pretended to kiss her.  The Pickle and I were lying on the floor in his parents room playing a board game, (Life, I think) and when I finished kissing Jamie Sommers and looked back at him, he looked at me like I had three heads.  Fortunately, about three seconds later, he forgot all about my game.

He’d been playing with an electrical cord with his toes while we were playing the board game and suddenly his mother’s iron came crashing down on his head, point first.  As the blood gushed forth and down over his forehead, no longer was the stupidity of my imaginary game at hand, and never was it mentioned again!

There was a point in the late 80s where I also fantasized that I was Officer Tom Hansen as played by Johnny Depp.  This one worked particularly well, because I could go to my school and learn my lessons while pretending to be this cool, older, sexier guy that girls swooned over.  There’s one episode of 21 Jump Street that has always stood out for me.  Tom decided to become a Big Brother as in Big Brothers and Big Sisters of America, but he was ultimately rejected.  It turned out that Doug Penhall had discouraged the BBBS from accepting Tom, for one reason or another…  Hey!  I was 12.  I can’t be expected to remember ALL of the details.

In late 1988 or early 1989, I had become enamored of the “Patch and Kayla” story on Days of our Lives (which I’d been introduced to by CPA Sis.)  I didn’t especially think much of Steve, but I thought Kayla (Mary Beth Evans) was awesome.  Since I had no imagination, I decided I wanted to be Steve so I could be with Kayla.  I knew CPA Sis wouldn’t be impressed with that so I didn’t tell her.  I continued to pretend I was pretending to be MacGyver because that was acceptable to her, but really I was pretending I was Patch.  (I guess this was the beginning of my career pretending to be something acceptable to my family.)  I remember the day in the late ’80s when I realized that something was not right.  CPA Sis was 16 or 17 years old and her heart hadn’t really seemed into it when I’d talk about “The Game.”  One day I said, “You don’t really want to play ‘The Game’ anymore, do you?”

“Not really,” she said.  “I’m kinda too old for it.”

And that was the end of “The Game”…  Or was it?

I’m a little ashamed to admit that I continued to play “The Game” alone, well into my 20s.  When Party of Five came out, I was head over heals for Scott Wolf/Bailey Salinger.  I wanted to be him.  God only knows why he was the preferred character for me.  I was certainly closer in age to Charlie Salinger, but it was all about Bailey.  I had a whole fantasy worked out.  I was Bailey Salinger, and (as was often the case in those days) I had an infant child which was the product of a one night stand with a girl I met at a party.  She had died during child birth (as they always did, ’cause who needs the girl around) and I was raising my child on my own (the only way I’d want to.)

When I moved to California, and had my first job with The Soul Crushing Telecom Company for whom Green M&M still works, I met a guy.  His name was Scott and he was beautiful.  I wanted him, but mostly I just wanted to be friends with him.  My fantasy  was that Scott and I (Bailey Salinger) were such good friends that we hung out together all of the time.

One day Scott didn’t come to work.  I found out that he had always wanted to ride his motor cycle to LA and back and so he took a Friday off to do this.  In my imagination, I came home from work to find him in my apartment.  He’d gotten halfway to LA and realized he wasn’t having any fun ’cause I wasn’t there, and he turned around and came back.  He couldn’t wait to tell me all this and how much he wanted to be with me.  That was the first night I allowed myself to unabashedly fantasize about having sex with a man.

To this day, when I’m feeling particularly lonely, or when I’ve got something on my mind that I need to hash out with someone, or when I’m horny and I need a boyfriend…  I find myself leaning toward “The Game.”  I’ve found it to be like an addiction.  I have a physical need for it.  Honestly!  Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m the only person in the house and that I can talk to myself all I want, I’m just talking to myself.  No one is going to answer me.  It’s not that I have to pretend I’ve got this whole alternate life going on anymore.  But sometimes I imagine both sides of the conversation/encounter and play it out.  It’s not that there’s anything wrong with this, it’s just that it’d be real easy for me to slip back into “The Game” if I let myself and I don’t want to do that.  I want real relationships.

So, yeah.  I was lonely a lot growing up, and despite my knowledge that getting a little brother would mean “unacceptable” behavior on my mother’s part I always wanted someone I could be close with.  I finally got my “little brother in 2000, when CPA Sis married Mr. Fixit who is three years my junior.  Unfortunately, my “little brother” was going to be living 1800 miles away (3000 miles now) and is nearly six inches taller than I.  Very funny God!  You’ve finally answered my prayers and my “little brother” is bigger than I.

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About a year ago, I grew very tired of being lonely and set about looking for ways to find and make new friends.  The ancestral version of this blog was part of that plan, but that didn’t come until later and when it did, it didn’t work out the way I had intended.  I decided that I could make an effort toward meeting people, and perhaps make myself feel a little bit better by finding some sort of volunteer work I could do.  I looked into Habitat for Humanity.  I really enjoy things that have tangible results to show and what better way to have tangible results than to build something, but their needs and my availability didn’t really seem to match up.

I found myself low on further ideas for additional opportunities so I did an internet search and came across a website called Volunteer Match and I found a number of listings for mentoring.  Nothing sounded familiar to me and I felt like that was too big of a deal to enter into lightly, but it reminded me of the episode of 21 Jump Street.  I remember watching that episode in silence while secretly being tremendously affected by it.  Of course part of it was, how could I not want Johnny Depp to pay attention to me?  But mostly it was just my secret longing for anyone to really care about and pay attention to me.  To make me the center of their universe, even if it was only for a few hours a week.  I was hurting while I watched it because I was thinking, I could really use someone like that in my life.  But I couldn’t ask for it.

And while I was remembering that it hit me.  I could be a Big Brother.  I could do for some kid or kids what no one ever did for me.  I could be a positive influence in their lives.  So I went to their website and I applied.  It wasn’t meant to be at that time.  There was an obstacle that I had to over come before I could be a Big Brother, but it was a blessing in disguise.  It gave me a year to think it over and make sure, was this really something I wanted to do?  Yes!  Am I really ready to handle this?  Fuck if I know, but I imagine it’s a little like parenthood.  You’re never ready, you just do it.

Today, I had my first interview with the Big Brothers and Big Sisters of the Bay Area.  It was nerve racking, though not as much so as I thought it would be.  The match specialist was fabulous and made me feel very much at ease.  She seemed very non-judgmental and more than once expressed her appreciation of my candor.  It was actually easier than I thought it would be to tell her I’m gay, but I thought it was important to establish that up front.

Now begins the arduous wait while they go through their process.  Tomorrow, she’ll send her reference checks to CPA Sis, Green M&M, Eve and Douche Bag.  I would have just as soon not included him, but as I recall the application asks for your immediate supervisor as one of the references.  The good thing is that DB doesn’t do confrontation, so I can rest relatively assured that he’ll say good things about me and not hurt my chances.  I don’t know what he would possibly have based this statement on but when I told him I would be leaving early today for the interview he said, “That’s great!  You’d make a great Big Brother.”  While it’s nice to hear, I don’t feel particularly like that’s praise worth it’s salt coming from him.  Anyway, while they wait for the references to be sent back, they’ll run my background check.  The only thing they’ll find is the DUI I received on January 18, 2003 and they’re already aware of that.  (This is the obstacle from a year ago.)  They can’t officially match me with a “Little” until after it’s been five years, so I have a couple months to wait.  I was informed that being gay, it will take longer to match me, anyway.  Apparently, there are a lot of parent/guardians out there who are ignorant and fearful of homosexuality and have specified that they do not want their children paired up with a homosexual.  It’s unfortunate, as it’s the “Little” that they’re hurting, but it is their prerogative.  I can’t say I’m surprised by the likely delay, but it’s still sad to hear.  Meanwhile, if I’m accepted (God, I hope I’m accepted.  What would it say about me if I’m not ‘good enough’ to work with underprivileged children) they do offer some training for me to take which will help prepare me to be a “Big”.

I’ll be honest.  I’m terrified.  My stomach is in knots and my heart is in my throat, just writing about it.  But it is important to me.  I can’t wait to be able to have a positive impact on some boy’s life.  To teach him that there are people out there who want nothing more than his health, safety and happiness.  To teach him that no matter what shit he’s going through there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel.  And, God forbid, if he’s been through some serious problems (i.e. molestation, physical abuse) to teach him that not everyone wants to treat him like that.  That there is good in the world and that he deserves to experience it.

I can hardly wait!

Random Fact #6

I have always had this really strong sense that I was molested as a child, but I can’t remember it.  I also can’t remember exactly when, or by whom.  But I don’t think I’m making it up.

I Am Still a Heba Hate-a

I have a problem.  An addiction actually.  I’ve tried to deny it for a long time, but it seems clear that I can’t pretend any more…

Hello, my name is Kevin and I’m a TV-aholic.  I’ve tried to cut back.  I’ve tried to stop watching, but they just keep making new and better shows that grab my attention and that I have to check out and then they turn out to be good and I keep watching them.  Every Summer, I swear that I’m not going to take on any new programs.  I’m not going to add to my number of hours of programming.  And every year I fail.

Four years ago, Green M&M and I moved into a new apartment that didn’t get standard cable service.  The company that did provide service, was only selling DirecTV though a cable connection and for a lot more money.  So we decided to sign up directly with DirecTV and cut out the middleman.  At the time that I was setting up our service they were running a special.  Receivers and dish for up to four rooms absolutely free with a two year contract.  But even more importantly to me, I could upgrade one of those receivers to a Tivo receiver for only $99.00.

I had heard about but had never experienced the wonder that is the Tivo.  Pause and rewind live TV?  Digitally record hours of television without having to worry about tapes and timer settings?  Listening to the b-doop, B-doop, B-DOOP, as I fast forward over the commercials I’d NEVER have to watch again?  What’s not to love!?!  Oh and did I mention that this receiver could record two separate shows at the same time?  My television viewing opportunities were endless! Heaven really is a place on earth!  Thank you Belinda Carlisle!

It is because of this perfection in a box that I never watch TV shows while they’re airing.  First, I always have a backlog of TV shows to watch, not a huge backlog, but I’m usually watching yesterday’s programming today, and today’s programming tomorrow.  Second, if I watched TV shows while they were on, I couldn’t enjoy the b-doop, B-doop, B-DOOP, because I’d have no choice but to watch the fucking commercials!  As a result, I know that I am a day behind on the Heba hating bandwagon but I couldn’t not join in on the Heba hate!

Unsvelt Girl who Runs is a member on the forums on the Runner’s World Website and apparently her gaggle of friends there had all kinds of venom to spew about Heba yesterday after Tuesday nights broadcast of The Biggest Loser.  Yesterday afternoon a chat window popped up on my computer screen and it was she, asking, “What’s up with Heba?”  I of course had no idea of what she spoke.  But I told her what I knew and sent her the link to my previous Heba hating blog post.  After that, I was jonesing to get home and turn on my beloved DVR and find out what kind of evil, beastly shit she pulled this week.

I wasn’t disappointed.  Well, I was disappointed.  I’m always disappointed to see people make idiots of themselves on National Television…  Or Local Television…  Or one on one for that matter.  But I got the information I was seeking and I don’t guess I can ask for much more than that.

So, if you even care about such things, I’m sure you can imagine how sad it was for Phil to come back to his room on The Biggest Loser Campus last week to find that Amy P., his wife, had in fact been eliminated and sent home.  There he was, along with the rest of the black team, having a quiet, somber dinner, when in marches the Blue Team (read: Gang) to intrude on their solace and make a scene about the perceived evil deeds of one Phil P.

“I hear you’re still saying hateful things about me.  I want to know why?”  Said the Evil War Lord, Heba.

But as if that weren’t bad enough, the other three Blue Team roughians– er, members, Brady, Vicky and Amy C. all joined in.  On a side note.  I thought there was hope for Amy C.  I thought how unfortunate that she got stuck with this bad crowd.  Wouldn’t it be poetic justice if one by one the evil three got sent home and here was Amy C., left behind to make something of herself and her experience.  Alas, ’twas not to be.

So Phil freely admitted that he approached Brady about forming an alliance to send Heba home.  He also pointed out that it was purely game play and that’s what the show is about.  He has never been shown saying anything derogatory about her.

Heba was on a rant about how he’s always been hateful to her and treated her so badly and she just can’t understand why (Gee, I wonder) and how she had never done anything to him.

But here’s the best part.  She sat there, looked Phil in the eyes and said, “I just want you to know that I forgive you.  I’m the bigger person and I forgive you.  You have to live with what you’ve done.”  Um…  Earth to Heba…  the moment you say, “I’m the bigger person” you lost all hope of being the bigger person.

The most pathetic part of this whole thing, to me, is this.  Heba and her husband came on the show this season because they’re newly weds and they want to start a family in a couple years and she wants to make sure she’s healthy enough to have a baby.  I can only feel sorry for any unfortunate child, cursed enough to have such a horrible person for a mother.  This is going to sound bad, but I hope she’s barren and I hope she can’t ever afford – or is never approved for – adoption.  People like her should not be allowed to procreate.

Last night, I reached a conclusion.  No matter who ultimately loses the highest percentage of their body weight and wins the show, Heba is now and will always THE BIGGEST LOSER.