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!

It’s Just Sex, Right?

I never knew how much fun blogs could be.  There are a lot of different types of blogs out there and I admit that many of them do not hold any interest for me.  I’ve happened across a lot of blogs where people take pictures of the food they have in restaurants and write a journal entry about it.  I have only one thing to say about that.  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I have read a lot of blogs where people take trips and write about what they did.  Often those are the same blogs as the ones mentioned above.  I guess the difference between good ones, and bad ones of these blogs is whether the author is really a writer.  If you can write something with a lot of artistry and beauty in your use of words, it barely matters what it is you write about.  On the other hand if you write like you’re writing a Dick and Jane book (See Dick’s lunch.  Dick had good lunch.  Dick cleaned Plate.  Jane had good lunch too.  Jane not cleaned plate.)  (I guess that sounds more like a Tarzan and Jane book, but you get the idea) then your blog isn’t going to be interesting to read.

Some people write their blog entries as a blow by blow report of what they do.  I usually skip over those pretty quickly.  It’s like reading my own writing…  From the 7th grade.  A good blog will recount a tale, or an event, or an experience, but in a way that is interesting and attention grabbing.  It’ll provide all the pertinent facts without boring you with unnecessary details and time tables.

Here’s an example of what I mean.  Back in April I went with a Green to Las Vegas.  Now I could recount the trip thusly:

Our flight was scheduled to depart Oakland International Airport at 9:36 a.m. but didn’t actually leave until 9:50.  We landed in Las Vegas at 10:47.  After we got off the plane we went straight to the bathrooms.  After we finished using the bathrooms we went to the luggage claims and found our carousel.  At 11:37 the luggage started coming out and after a few minutes my suit case came down the shoot.  I grabbed my suit case and we waited for her suit case to come down the shoot.  We waited and waited but it never came out.  Then we went to the baggage office to find out what happened.  They checked the computers and the piles of luggage outside the office, and called the baggage handling area to find out if anyone had the suit case but they didn’t find it.

So Green was pretty unhappy about her suit case not showing up and was worried that they wouldn’t find it.  We gave the lady in the office a description of the suit case and told her we where we were staying and gave them Green‘s Cell Phone Number.

Then, we walked outside to where the shuttles were, found the ticket office and bought our tickets and found our shuttle.  We had to wait in the shuttle for about 20 minutes before the shuttle driver decided their were enough passengers to make the trip.

We were the first stop on the trip and we got to our hotel around 1:00.  Then we walked inside.  Then we went to the front desk.  It didn’t make any sense because they did not have a clearly marked line.  We didn’t know where to go and we though we were in line.  Then an employee came over to us and offered to help us find a line and we got in line.  Then we got to the counter and then we checked in.  We asked if they had any upgrades available.  Then they showed us the options and we chose a room with a “strip view”.  We were excited because we always wanted a room with a strip view and we never get one.  After we checked in we went to our room, but we were disappointed because the view was not of the strip.

Boring, right?  I felt like a little kid while I was typing it to the point that my rhythm of my typing even became very staccato.  Dah dah dah dah DAH.  Dah dah dah dah DAH.  Dah dah dah dah DAH.  Boring!

I could however have told the same story thusly:

Green and I absolutely love Las Vegas.  We are always looking for an excuse– er, opportunity to go.  This year we decided to go in April as a joint birthday celebration having chosen this time because it falls rough in the middle of her mid-March birthday and my mid-June birthday.  Right between our birthdays, but better yet, before the weather there turns to full blown summer and the sun feels as though it will incinerate you where you stand.

We were expecting a great trip, staying in a new (to us) hotel, the MGM Grand, and tickets to Zumanity, the Circ du Soleil show we’d been itching to see for several visits.  After our first visit to Las Vegas, a New Years trip that had a departure time scheduled for 6 something in the morning which we missed resulting in a six hour lay over in Fresno International Airport (and if you’ve ever been there, you know what a joke that is) we learned our lesson and booked our departure for a more reasonable hour.  Our flight was delayed taking off by about 10 minutes but fortunately, as they so often do, the pilots made up the difference in the air.  But the “adventure” was not to end there.

Upon deplaning in Las Vegas we made a b-line for the restrooms because sadly, the very public restrooms in a busy airport are favorable to a cramped, Southwest Airlines jet bathroom, and then headed on down to Baggage claim.  This is always a dicey time because you never know if your luggage is going to make it or not.  Fortunately for me, after just a few revolutions of the carousel, my suitcase came down the shoot just fine.  But as the crowd was thinning and the frequency of the bags passing by slowed, it became apparent that there was a problem.  Green‘s bag was nowhere to be found.

Green immediately began to worry about not having her suit case and not having any of her clothes or toiletries and whether she’d be reimbursed if her suit case never showed up and the $100+ flat iron she had inside was lost to her forever.  We went to the baggage office where we looked at all the unclaimed luggage sitting around but none of it was her’s so we went in to file our claim.  The attendant did her due diligence and searched the computer, the unclaimed bags and called the baggage handlers, but sure enough, Green‘s suitcase did not appear to be in Las Vegas.

The attendant immediately began the process of opening a claim and tracking ticket and we provided her with the necessary information of how to contact us when the suitcase arrived, while answering all our questions and doing her best to reassure Green that they’d make it right with her if the bag didn’t turn up.

Once that was completed it was time for the jaunt to “the strip” where we were to check into our hotel.  We got out to the transportation section and found the booth to buy our fair on one of the many shuttles to the strip, but unfortunately we did have to wait about 20 minutes till the driver felt he had enough passengers to justify the trip.  And while we waited we were fortunate enough to get to listen to the drivers gangsta rap music he had playing over the speakers…  While he was no where around.  Thankfully, the MGM Grand is one of the first stops and we weren’t on the shuttle for long.

Walking into the lobby of the hotel we were immediately impressed with the grandeur and beauty of the place but as we approached the front desk we encountered our next obstacle.  There was a mass of hotel guests waiting to check in, and no clearly delineated line.  We must have looked pretty lost because pretty soon a woman wearing a blazer and a golden name tag came over and asked us to follow her while she lead us to what looked like the next most expeditious line.

When it was our turn to check in, which really did only take a few minutes, we asked the front desk clerk if they had any upgrades available.  They did and she showed us what our options were.  We chose a suite that was on the 18th floor – we prefer to be higher, but all the higher ones weren’t non-smoking – and that had a “strip view”, however when we got to the room we were sorely disappointed because what they consider a “strip view” is a sliver of the back of the next hotel over and a sprawling view of the rest of Las Vegas proper.

Now, I admit, the second version has more words, more paragraphs, but isn’t it more interesting to read too?

I read a lot of blogs, and I hope a lot of people will read mine.  I just hope that mine fits into the better written, more interesting to read, category.

“““““““

Now to the real point.

I do read a lot of blogs and I admit that I’m greatly interested in the blogs of people who write about sexual encounters, be they real or fiction.  They’re usually interesting to read and exciting and quite often get me going.  I believe another term for these entries is “stroke writing”.  But I also admit that I can only suspend my sense of reality so much and I’m often shocked and disturbed by some of the behaviors people write about.  Many accounts of random, anonymous sexual encounters, unprotected bareback sex (I do only read the gay ones) and other forms of complete irresponsibility and frankly, I don’t know what to think about them sometimes.  I wonder, “Do people really do these things?”  “Is this really a favorable way of getting what you need?”  “Do these people not regret or feel ashamed about their actions?”

But I’ll be honest.  They affect me.  And sometimes, when I’m feeling really lonely, and I’ve had a little too much to drink (read: an extra bottle) I think, maybe…  Maybe I could give it a try.

Such was the case this past Friday night.  Halfway through my second bottle of wine and leaning toward my third, I’d read all the “stroke posts” and looked at all the sexy pictures on my reader and I was horny, and feeling lonely, and not as inhibited as I normally am.  So I turned to Craigslist.  I knew I couldn’t be the predatory one, and I knew I couldn’t drive, or “travel” as the post authors always say.  So I posted my own ad, something I’ve never done before.  The post was something about being “newly gay” and needing a teacher, both of which is true.  I put down that I needed to be taught about gay lovin’ but that I would have to be convinced because I was frightened.  And I attached a grainy, unclear, cell phone picture of myself, naked and sprawled out on the floor that was taken some time ago while I was drunk and Green, my former room mate, was trying to get me to bed.  You couldn’t see my face, and I was not trying to hide my physical appearance.  I was saying “Boys, this is what I look like and if I actually see this thing through and you come over here, this is what you’re going to find.”

Almost instantly I got two e-mails from guys who had seen my post and suggested they might want to teach me.  I was emboldened by the vino and I thought, hey this is great.  I replied to the e-mails with answers to their questions and questions of my own.  Still figuring that there was no harm in pursuing this.

One of the guys dropped out after a couple e-mails but the other guy was serious about moving forward.  He was ready to take down my address and head on out and that’s when reality struck!  In an instant my head cleared and the fear took over.  My mind was racing!

Oh my God!  Is this serious?  Could I really do this?”

“Crap!  The house is a mess.  I need to clean the bathroom!  I haven’t changed my sheets in months!”

“I don’t know anything about this guy and while that may have sort of been the point, it’s really risky!  Plus as ‘anonymous’ as I’d like to believe it is, it’s not really ’cause if I do this he’ll know where I live.  He could very well be genuine and sincere, but he could just as easily be coming here to case the joint.  I don’t have a lot that’s worth stealing but I do have some.  For that matter, he could be a serial killer and I would have invited him in.”

“And it’s sex.  Really sex.  Not just I-contemplated-it-while-jerking-myself-off sex.  And that would change everything!  There’s no going back from that!”

And so, I contemplated it while jerking myself off.  And then the “need” had passed and I turned off my computer and went to bed.

The next day I felt like shit!  Two and a half bottles of wine will do that to you, but it wasn’t just the hangover and the headache and the diarrhea and the shakes.

I was ashamed.  Still am a little bit.  I’m relieved ’cause I didn’t follow through. I know I’m still safe.  I know I still don’t have any diseases.  I know that I haven’t opened myself up to be a victim of a crime.  Yes I could still get robbed.  It’s part of life.  Yes I could still be attacked on the street.  That too, is a part of life.  But I didn’t invite a complete stranger into my house and tell him to take a look around and see if there’s anything he’d like to come back for, uninvited.  And I didn’t open myself up, figuratively and literally, and make myself as vulnerable as a human being can be and risk a life changing result from an “anonymous donor”.

Yet, I can’t help being ashamed of myself for having gone there in the first place.  Sex should be a wonderful thing between two people who care for each other.  Right?  That’s certainly a lovely sentiment and I’d like to feel like I can apply it.  But let’s call a spade a spade.  I’m not a social person.  I don’t meet new people and I haven’t got anyone in my life so the likelihood of meeting someone I can feel a connection with and start a relationship with is next to impossible.  Meanwhile, I’m still human.  I’m still male.  I still have needs that need to be fulfilled.  And it is just sex, right?

This isn’t the first time I’ve found myself in some semblance of this situation.  I’ve been on Gay.com many times.  I’ve had on-line chats with local guys while looking for a little “inspiration”.  But inevitably, it always goes the same way.  They don’t want to just talk about what they’d do.  They want to come over and do it.  And it’s always the same thing with me.  I’m horny.  I’m probably inebriated (only time I have the nerve to do anything sexual.)  I’m naked, with my cock in one hand and the computer mouse in the other and I just want to get off.  And then I start to wonder whether I should take it a step farther.  And then they say it!

“Can I come over?”  Cue the thunder clap and the lightening bolt.  The scratching record.  The sudden silence of the crowd.  The dramatic “plot thickens” organ music.  And suddenly it’s not a game anymore.  It’s not just fantasy, or what ifs.  it’s not just masturbation.  It’s an opportunity.  An opportunity for something, I actually really do want…  sort of.

And in an instant, I’m overcome.  I’m sick to my stomach.  I’m shaking.  I instantly go from the “could I?”s to the “how could I?”s.  All the blood drains from my body.  Where I was hot and bothered, now I’m frozen and terrified.  I’m weak and shaking and, eh’hem, everything goes limp, to jelly, turns soft.  And I chicken out.

And in spite of all this, I can’t really decide if I think that following through would be a bad thing, and make me an amoral person, or if I think it would be a perfectly natural thing to do and I’m way over-thinking?  And it doesn’t really matter because like it or not, my sub-conscious won’t let it happen.

Yes, I’m relieved, because I didn’t follow through.

But I’m also kind of pissed.

‘Cause I didn’t follow through.

Bait and Switch

Something has just occurred to me.  About six weeks ago, I wrote a series of posts about the renovation of my formerly regrettably pink bathroom.  These posts were a hodgepodge of details about the actual “transformation” or renovation that was taking place in my bathroom at my home.

During the majority of the project my shower was out of commission and I was having to used the shower in the basement of my office building of which I have the fortune (misfortune?) of working in the property management office and have, therefor, free reign over/access to the shower in question.

Now, I’m a dude, which should say enough, right there, but I’m also Gay, relatively new to the acceptance thereof, and a “gay virgin”.  Translation, I’m horny most of the time.  Using this shower in the basement of my office building was, at least the first few times, a sexually arousing proposition for me.  It is a private shower, in a locked room so it wasn’t that exciting, but it provided some opportunities to fantasize and masturbate.    These experiences provided fodder for the blog and while I was writing about the remodel of my bathroom I was also writing about these experiences which means my tags for these posts were things like, “Male Nude, Nude Male, Gay Sex, Fantasy, Fantasizing, Masturbate, etc.”

To this day, when I look at my blog stats, those “Bathroom Transformation” posts are heavily hit.  And when I look at the terms that lead people to my blog on those same days, it’s usually things like “Male Nude, Nude Male, Gay Sex, Fantasy, Fantasizing, Masturbate, etc.”

So today I was looking at my blog stats – I guess I have a secret fantasy to become a popular blog… ist?  Is Bloggist a word? and so I watch my stats closely – and suddenly I had this mental image:

I’m sitting at home in my chair, feet up, naked, looking for some “inspirational material”.  So I log onto WordPress and I do a search for “Male Nude”.  Surely I’ll at least get some nice pictures to look at right?  Maybe I’m in a certain kinda mood, looking for a certain kinda something when I see it.  “Bathroom Transformation, Day 6”.  Maybe this is what I want to see.  Maybe I like a little raunch, or a little water sports, or a little…  Whatever someone might be looking for, and interested in when they see “Male Nude” and “Bathroom Transformation” in the same context.

So I click on the link.  Maybe I’m already a little excited.  Maybe I’m partially hard and I’m already oozing.  Maybe I’ve already got my dick in my hand and I’m ready to go.  And there at the bottom of the screen I see the very top of a picture.  Let me scroll down to that!  Wait! What the–!  It’s a- A BATHROOM.  What the hell kinda smut is this guy writing.  Oh shit.  This post is about renovating a bathroom.

The son of a bitch pulled a bait and switch on me!

But at least I helped him boost his numbers for today!

And if nothing else?  For that, I thank you!  Oh, and, did I mention…  I gotcha again!

Bathroom Transformation Day Nine

Nine days down, one day to go.  Today finds the tile in, the walls painted, the vanity in position and the basin and counter in place, the faucet installed (though not yet functioning), and the lighting fixture in place.  Take a look:

Tomorrow is supposed to be the last day of the main project:  The sink gets plumbed in.  The fixures (i.e. towel rods, toilet paper dispenser, etc.) get installed.  The mirror and storage cupboard get hung.  I hope the door, door frame, window frame and shutters get painted, and the door rehung.  And there’s still a few baseboard tiles to get grout.  Friday Adorable Little Contractor is off to Oregon.  I still don’t have a shower curtain rod, or a makeshift shower curtain.

Wheeler Dealer Land Lady was referred to a showroom where she should be able to find an existing shower curtain rod.  But apparently, it won’t be installed until Monday, September 15th.  So I’m looking at over a week of using the trickle at the office.  The charm has definitely worn off…  Not that I didn’t get myself a good wank in their anyway, but the new has worn off and without some company, it’s just not what it could be.  Today I revisited the Fantastical Engineer services me and my undercarriage while I rub one out on his shiny bald head fantasy.  I need to come up with something new…

Anyway, someone from a company called “Mr. Bathtub” is coming on Saturday, September 13, 2008 to “redo” my bathtub.  I don’t really know what that means, I just know that my bath tub is supposed to be shiny and pristine and new looking so it will fit in with the rest of the newly redone bathroom!

Adorable Little Contract comes back on September 15th to hang the shower curtain rod, grout the gap between the tub and the tile and resolve any open items that haven’t been solved.

It’s kind of funny, but there’s a part of me that is sad that it’s ending.  Scared kitty will be glad it’s over as he has been spending his days locked up in the kitchen with no soft furniture to sleep on and where it gets somewhat steamy.  But I can’t have him roaming free while ALC is trying to do his work and often needs to leave the front door open.  I admit that I expected to see more of ALC.  I got the impression from him at the beginning of this endeavor that he’d be working long days and that I’d see him, probably before I left for work and almost certainly when I got home.  In a strange way, when this first started, I almost felt like I had a husband to come home too (and I could certainly have done worse.)  I expected more discussions about schedules and when we’d see each other and the like.  I guess, truthfully I’m grateful that we didn’t interact more, since his presence is a disruption for me, but I hoped for more contact.

The more I think about it, the more I think he very well might be a Friend of Dorothy.  I recall that his use of pronouns (In his limited discussion about himself) never went beyond “we”.  He never talked about “she” or “my wife” or “my girlfriend”.  Though, admittedly he also never talked about a boyfriend or husband.  It has been extremely hot these last two weeks and I don’t have air conditioning which means that it’s been quite hot in my house while he works.  I’ve seen him in shorts twice now – he has great calves – and he seems not to have much (if any) hair on his legs either.  He’s as “average white” as I am so it’s not like he’s likely of a heritage that doesn’t grow much body hair.  I do believe he’s blond (he always wears a baseball hat) but not super light to where his body hair should be unnoticeable… Of course I realize there are all kinds of simple explanations for this that don’t make him gay, but then again, maybe he is…  He has a great little ass and small waist too!

Tonight, as I was gathering the ingredients for my dinner, my front door open but outer gate closed and locked and with me wearing no clothes, I daydreamed/fantasized about him coming back to the house to do more work and letting himself in never expecting to find me naked.  My fantasy didn’t go beyond the awkward…

ALC: Oh!  I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…

Me: Oh my God.  I didn’t’ think…  I’m sorry…  I’ll just go put some clothes on…  Unless…  Well, unless you like what you see, in which case I won’t… ‘Cause I’ve been thoroughly enjoying what I’ve been seeing…

The fantacy didn’t go beyond that point, but wouldn’t it have been nice…

Bathroom Transformation Day Six

Somewhat surprisingly, Adorable Little Contractor came back today to lay the tile for the floor.  He told me yesterday that it would be a half-day job.  He showed up at around 9:30 this morning and was here until about 6:15 this evening.

 

The tile is fragile and the floor was put in, in a diamond pattern so there was a lot of cutting to be done.  It took a lot longer than ALC had expected.  The tile is in and glued down but the grout won’t go in till Monday morning. 

The shower curtain issue is sort of resolved.  ALC hung a curtain of thick plastic from the ceiling by staples so that i could use the shower.  But the guy who is making the curtain rod won’t be here till “sometime” next week to see what’s needed and who knows how long it’ll take to fabricate and be installed.  Meanwhile, Adorable Little Contractor wants to do the painting on Tuesday, which should include the ceiling so I’m not sure what that will mean for me and my ability to shower at home. 

Today was the day I was hoping to avoid in that this was the day he had to take the toilet out.  It was out of commission for about 8 hours.  I actually ended up peeing in the kitchen sink once.  Shhh!  Don’t tell anybody.  Wasn’t my ideal choice but what was I to do?  I have no idea what Adorable Little Contractor did about his needs, but I can’t help but wonder… or wish I’d been there.

I went out for a while and met up with a couple frineds to go to a movie.  Went to see Disaster Movie.  It was stupid funny as can be.  I love stupid funny, usually.  The last “stupid funny, spoof” movie I saw was Remember The Spartans.  THAT movie sucked in my opinion.  This movie was pretty good.  And it stars Matt Lanter who I have thought was delicious ever since he was on Comander in Chief.  Got me pretty horney!  Come to think of it, I still haven’t done anything about that! 

I was a little worried when I came home and Adorable Little Contractor was still working on the floor and hadn’t put the toilet back.  It’s amazing how much you “need” something when you definately can’t have it.  Fortunately, he was finished about an hour or so later and when I was in need of the toilet, it was ready and waiting. 

Anyway, Adorable Contractors, Sexy Movie Actors, Fantastical Engineers…  I think I need to get LAID!!!

Bathroom Transformation Day Five

Not a lot of news to tell tonight.  Good Progress, but not big news.

The tile in the shower has been sealed and my shower head has been mounted again.  The black plastic is hung form the ceiling as a temporary shower curtain.  It’ll be another week or two before the new shower curtain rod is fabricated and installed.

The floor has been “floated” and Adorable Little Contractor is coming back tomorrow to put in the floor tile.  This also means the toilet has to come out which means there’ll be no toilet at my disposal while he’s doing the work.  He will put the toilet back in at the end of every day, but as long as I’m not hanging around the house while he’s working that won’t be a problem.  Since tomorrow is Saturday, however, that may be a problem.  I may have to find somewhere else to be tomorrow…

Today he also took out the medicine cabinet and in wall toilet paper dispenser.  He also installed the second electrical outlet that I requested on the far side of where the vanity will be.  I’ve made the final selection on the paint and he plans to paint on Tuesday.

I’m glad to have the use of my shower back.  The shower at work was growing tiresome.  As I said yesterday, I believe ever good day starts with a good wank, but it was more of the same.  Same fantasy about the same engineer.  Same trickle of water, meant to provide the cleansing desired from taking a shower in the first place.  It was fun for a time, but now I’m glad I won’t need to use that shower anymore.

Bathroom Transformation Day Four – Now THAT’S What I Call Progress!

Major progress today!  Remember this?

Today, it looks like this. 

Dry wall is in, tile is up, and grouted.  Tomorrow it gets sealed and tomorrow night the shower should be whole.  My only concern is that the issue of the shower curtain rod has not been resolved.  Since my shower only has two walls instead of three, I need a shower curtain rod that turns and covers the other two sides.  Wheeler Dealer Landlady was saying she’d probably have to have one custom fabricated and in the meantime I can just keep using the one that was already here.  That’s fine, except that if the mounting mechanism is different in anyway, then there could end up being extraneous holes in the new marble tile, and that would be tragic.

On a side note, I was hoping this renovation would include building a third side to the shower surround but apparently there isn’t enough space between the tub and the toilet to build the wall and still be code compliant.  Oh well, it was worth a shot.

I probably still won’t be able to use the shower until some time Saturday, but at least we’re making progress on that.  Using the shower at work has been fun, exciting and arousing all at the same time…  But it’s also been a pain in the ass.  There’s just not enough water pressure and I feel a bit exposed there.  I also don’t feel like I’m getting rinsed as well as I like when I’m washing off the soap because of the low pressure.  I have a hand held shower head/massager/do-hickey.  I really like having the control as to where the water is aimed and the intensity of the spray.  The hardest, most focused setting feels pretty damn good while I’m rinsing my sphincter.  Definitely not getting that while I’m using the trickle er, uh– Shower at work.  Wheeler Dealer Landlady has bought some pretty nice fixtures for my new bathroom so I’m going to give those a try before I go back to my hand held shower head but I assume even the new shower head she bought will have more pressure than this thing at work.

I’m a firm believer that every good day starts with a good wank, so I took advantage of the unusual circumstances with the shower at work again.  I gotta say, I doubt that I’m the only guy who has used that shower and has jerked off while there.  The really kinky, nasty side of me really got off on the idea that I was just adding to the… shall we say, gene pool.  Of course I’m sure the shower has been cleaned since the last time someone besides me rubbed one out in there, but it adds to the fantasy, I guess.  And speaking of fantasies…  My Fantastical Engineer, played a role again this morning.  He’s an Asian man.  He shaves his head.  And he’s about 8 inches shorter than I am.  I fantasized this morning about him servicing me.  Using his mouth to bring me to the brink, and then putting some time into my…  Undercarriage seems like a good word…  And while he was doing that, I jerked it till I came, blowing my load all over his smooth, freshly shorn head.  What a blast!  Too bad he wasn’t there to enjoy it!

Hmmm.  I seem to have gotten a bit side tracked…  Albeit a good side track.

So where was I…  Ah yes, the bathroom.  I’m thrilled with the progress Adorable Little Contractor has made today.  It feels like things are really starting to come together now.  I narrowed down my paint selections today.  There are three options of three different shades that I’ve narrowed it down to.  It doesn’t show up very well, but the sample in this picture is the most likely choice at this point. 

I’m not especially thrilled that the border pieces of the tile are far whiter than the squares, but I don’t guess there’s anything to be done about it now.

It’s not terrible but it’s not great either.  Maybe it’ll stand out less once the project is done.

The paint sample is called Livingston Olive, a light olive color.  I was not at all sure about it at Home Depot, and when Unsvelt Girl and I went to the Expo today to look at the samples against the console, it was the third choice and Unsvelt Girl thought it was too yellow.  I ended up having to come by the house right after that (Scared Kitty, somehow liberated himself from the kitchen and I had to rectify the problem.)  While we were here, I taped the samples up to the wall.  Next to the tile and in the natural sunlight it was a completely different color.  It was suddenly first choice!

Moving on.  Remember this?  Today, it looks like this… 

The medicine cabinet is also coming out.  There will be a larger mirror over the vanity and there will be a second outlet on the other side of the vanity.  The new vanity is taller than the old one but the back splash will be standard four-ish inches above the surface.  So there will be some wall repair to be done.

The next obvious step for this area is to tile, grout and seal the floor before Adorable Little Contractor can bring in the new vanity and hook up the plumbing.  The other two paint samples are in the top right corner of this picture, and while you can’t get a great look at those either, you can see that they are darker than the first choice.  The real deciding factor will be when the floor is done and the vanity is in.  The tile on the floor and the slab on top of the vanity are all the same as the shower so between that and the large window, I’d think there’d be a lot of light, however, the vanity is a dark stained wood….  Decisions, decision…