Wishin’, and Hopin’, and Thinkin’, and Prayin’, Planning and Dreamin’

Long before I came out officially, to myself, let alone anyone else, I managed to get myself on several gay oriented mailing lists.  I don’t honestly remember now how that happened.  Once you get on one, it’s not difficult to get on many others, I just don’t remember how the first one came about.

Shortly, after it all started, I was receiving Adam Male catalogs, promotional offers for such magazines as, Men Magazine and Freshmen Magazine, and a myriad of “publications” offering “cheap prices” on porn videos.  I was, at the time, a bizarre combination of disgusted and intrigued by these mailings.  You know how that works, right?  That’s where you sit down (naked usually) looking through the stuff thoroughly (and jerking off) while thinking “I can’t believe they’re sending this crap to me!”

What really concerned me was that every time I moved and those things were addressed to [My Name] or Current Resident, they didn’t get forwarded and the next person who moved in there would receive these pieces of mail and might think that I was gay!  Imagine the horror!

One of the catalogs that I received that always stood out to me was the TLA Video catalog.  I was always a little bit more fascinated with this one, with the combination of pornographic and non-pornographic items they offered.  I would submit that TLA Video could do a better job with these catalogs in that I never realized how “mainstream” some of their offerings were, from the descriptions they had.  Until this week-end, that is.

There is a show on Logo that I have, in spite of myself, become completely addicted to called Rick and Steve, The Happiest Gay Couple in All the World.  It is one of those shows that is just so wrong that it’s so right and if you haven’t seen it (and you’re not easily offended) you should totally check it out.  You can thank me later.

Anyway, Logo is one of those networks that notoriously doesn’t stick to a concise schedule.  By that I mean, that Rick and Steve, may be scheduled to start at, say, 7:00.  The DVR kicks on at 7:00 to record it and it’ll catch the last 90 seconds of whatever was on before it (usually, The Click List: The Best in Short Film).  A couple times now, I’ve caught the tail end of a tale and my response is usually, “Huh?!?!?” so I recently decided that I was going to try and catch some of these broadcasts in an attempt to expand my horizons and avoid the “Huh?!?!?” factor.  Since “The Click List” is more of a filler than a regularly scheduled program I went into the guide to scroll through and find when it airs to set the recordings and along the way I found a number of other gay movies that I wanted to catch.

It’s too late to make the long story short but what I’m getting at is this.  Along the way, I found “Latter Days“.  I read the description of the movie and thought it sounded interesting and then it occurred to me that I remembered seeing this movie in the TLA Video catalogue, with about a 15 word description that A) didn’t do it justice and 2) didn’t sell me on it.  I wish it had.

I watched this movie on Saturday, and let me tell you, this movie really moved me, in a way I didn’t think it would be possible for it to do.  This is the story of a young Mormon missionary – “Elder” Aaron Davis, sent to Los Angeles for two years of “training” in which he is expected to adhere to a whole list of “not allowed tos”, like drink alcohol, listen to music, use his first name, talk to his family, be alone.  And he certainly isn’t permitted to enter into a homosexual relationship.

When Aaron and his three roommates move into their apartment they meet Christian, a young gay man who, despite his appearance in the movie poster quite frequently looks, acts and sounds like Ryan Reynolds (HOT!!!) in this flick.  Christian is a hot, young, shallow, sex-crazed, gay man who works as a waiter when he’s not on a conquest.  This is established in the first few minutes of the movie in, what is actually a very funny scene where “Chris” seduces a straight man who has arrived to pick up a blind date.

“But I’m straight” he protests to which Chris replies that “it’s always that much hotter when they say that.”  He tells the man that he could suck the engine block of an (insert impressive car knowledge I do not have here) through the tail pipe, “That’s right!  I’m gay and I know cars.”  Cut to the men sitting on the floor of the living room after the dead is done when the suitor asks, “Don’t you worry that Elizabeth will walk in on you?”

“Elizabeth?” Chris asks.  “My roommates name is Julie.  Elizabeth lives in apartment 2-D as in, ‘Down the walk’.”

After the Mormons move in, Chris makes a bet with his friends in the restaurant where he works, that he can seduce one of them.  This is not an original concept by any means but it provides the groundwork for further interaction.

We find out that Aaron is gay but that he is fighting his impulses because, of course, he’s been raise to believe that it’s a sin and he would be excommunicated.  You would think that this movie would be formulaic, “boy meets boy”, “boy makes bet he can seduce other boy”, “boy makes other boy fall in love with him only to find out about the bet”, “boy convinces other boy that his feelings are real and he doesn’t care about the bet.”  What is original about this film is that it doesn’t follow the formula.  You’d think the story would draw to a conclusion with the seduction but in fact the story is jut getting started.

When Aaron is caught, by his roommates, kissing Christian in a moment of weakness, he is sent back to his family where he will be excommunicated.  When Chris comes to talk to Aaron and finds out he has already left he chases after Aaron, catching up to him at his lay over in Salt Lake City.

The airport is then closed due to severe weather and the boys must spend the night in an air port hotel waiting for flights to resume.  It is here that they make love for the first time and really, truly connect with one another, but in the morning when Chris awakes, Aaron is gone.  He’s gone home to his family to face is consequences.  Aaron’s family, depicted as very close and loving in the beginning of the movie now is cold and stand-offish.  They barely talk to him and will not look at him.

The scene in this movie that really felt familiar to me takes place in the Davis family home when Aaron is alone in the house with his mother.  Suddenly, his father works long hours and won’t come home and face his son.  Aaron is sitting at the table and picking at his food and his mother takes his plate away as she’s clearing the dishes.  He hears a crash and walks into the kitchen to find his mother cleaning up a broken plate and the food that was on it.  She’s on her hands and knees as he stands in the doorway.

“Mom” he says as she continues to pick up pieces of plate. “Mom…. Mom.”

“What?!?” she finally says, exasperated but without looking up.  “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he says as he lowers his head.  “I was just wondering if you might be able to bring yourself to look at me.”

She finally looks at him but with anger and disappointment in her eyes.  She asks him, “What did that boy do to you?” and proceeds to tell him, as she had recently found out, that the whole thing was over a bet, which Aaron refuses to believe.  “Do you even understand what you’ve done?” She asks him.

“What if it’s not something I’ve done?  What if it’s who I am?” he says a split second before she slaps him across the face.

“Don’t say that!” she screams.  “Don’t you ever say that.  God can’t forgive you. He can forgive you for what you’ve done, for making a mistake….  But who you are?  He can never forgive you for that.”

I’ll ruin the entire movie if I tell anymore about it, and I highly recommend it to all two of my readers.  Suffice it to say that what happens in the remaining minutes of the story is, in my opinion, very poignant, moving and encouraging to any young (or not so young) man, struggling with the contradiction between what he’s been taught in his religion and what he’s feeling within himself.  At some point we each have to learn to go our own direction.  We have to learn not to blindly accept what others tell us, but to learn what’s true for ourselves.

Having been raised in, what I’m now hearing referred to as, a fundamentalist household, it was very hard for me to come to terms with my sexuality.  I was told, over and over again, my entire life that homosexuality is a sin.  That homosexuals are going to hell.  It was made abundantly clear to me from a very early age that it was not an acceptable way to live.  And as a result, never once have I discussed with my family the possibility that I may have different feelings and desires, let alone what I now know to be a fact, that I am gay.

As I sat in my chair, and watched as Aaron said, “What if it’s who I am?”  I felt that slap across the face as if I were the one standing in that kitchen.  I felt the contempt, the lack of compassion, of understanding, the inability to “love the sinner”, as if my mother were standing in front of me telling me that it’s not ok to be who I am.  That I must live the rest of my life denying how I feel so I can spend eternity in heaven and not in hell.  And in the end, I felt Aaron’s strength and resolve as he decided for himself what is right and what is true and how he wants to live his life.  And as he set out in the world and took his destiny in his own hands and found a life for himself it occurred to me, that I have to do the same.

Maybe it was Aaron’s strength when he went home to face his family and his church.  Maybe it was his resignation when he finally gave in to his desires and made love with Christian.  Maybe it was his determination when he left his family and his home for the last time to live his life on his own terms.  Maybe it was entirely a coincidence.  But when I turned off the TV after the movie was over, I sat and stared at the darkened screen lost in thought about what I had just seen.

And that’s when it occurred to me.  For many years now, I have been “Wishin’, and hopin’, and thinkin’, and prayin’, planning and dreamin’.”  Anything but doin’.  And if there’s anything you can count on, it’s that wishing and hoping, thinking and dreaming will get you nowhere, and it will get you there real fast.  Only doing, only taking action will get you what and where you want in this world.

And so from that moment I have made up my mind to take action.  Some actions are smaller than others.  Some are as simple as getting up and cleaning up the house instead of sitting in front of the TV wishing the house was clean.  Some actions are larger.  I’m making a plan.  Making a concerted effort to take control of my life and get my finances in order.  I know it will take time, but I’m going to do it.  No longer can I allow myself to throw my money away on wishes (“I wish I had…”)  I’m going to plan and be more frugal and pay off my debts and make the best use of the money I have.  I’m going to stop being afraid to lack, to go without something for a time.  And when I get my finances in order, I’m going to start pursuing more interests.  I’m going to take classes in the things than interest me.  I’m going to join a gym (and actually use it.)

I’m going to make my life mine and I’m going to live it for me and no one else.  No longer will I make my decisions based on what I think someone else wants to see, or how someone else wants me to act.  People don’t have to like everything they see, they just have to respect me the way I am.

And on that note, I’ve got to close this down.  I’m still at work and I’ve got to get home.  I have dishes to wash, and dinner to make (a salad I think), and push-ups and crunches to do.

Batman’s Return

About a year ago, I had a dream about Batman and the Mrs.

I was sitting in the corner of a dark, noisy and crowded Cantina reading a book and eating a burrito.  There were neon signs all around advertising Coronas, Pacificoes and Tacates, and there were fluorescent representations of donkey shaped piñatas and sombreros and cactuses (cacti?) on the walls.  Suddenly what little light there was for me to read my book was blocked by a figure.  I looked up and there he was.  He was gorgeous.  Much the way I remember him, and yet, somehow different.  I couldn’t put my finger on it at first.

There was a difference in his presence.  A maturity that wasn’t there before.  An intensity in his gaze at me.  He greeted me with an exuberant handshake and before anything else happened Mrs. Batman approached.  My heart sank a bit.  I was happy to see him and I didn’t want to be holding a grudge against her but it was hard not to experience those negative feelings and emotions from so long ago.  Mrs. Batman said hello, and I offered them both the seats across my table from me.

I realized, there wasn’t just a difference in him.  There was a difference in both of them, in the way they were together.  They didn’t touch.  Batman didn’t put his arm around Mrs. Batman.  He didn’t put his arm on the back of her chair, or over a shoulder.  He leaned forward on the table and focused his attention directly on me.  Mrs. Batman, didn’t lean toward him.  She didn’t put a hand on his leg.  She didn’t glance lovingly in his direction.  All the tell tale signs of a couple in love were absent.

They didn’t look unhappy, in fact they looked very much the opposite.  Like they were content with their lives and the directions they had gone in.  As I looked at them and noticed these changes, I also noticed that there had been some definite physical changes in Batman.  He was leaner.  Not thinner; God knows there was no room for that.  Just fitter.  The gut was completely gone, replaced by a complete absence of shirt pucker.  His clothes weren’t skin tight but they left little question as to his condition.  Where once there had been a gut, and then, in Stockton, a slight lump, now there was nothing but a flush, smooth line from puffed up chest to his belt.  His hair was shorter with more of a spiky look, and he had bleached highlights I hadn’t noticed until he sat down and the light was above his head and not behind.  The glasses were gone and in their place his beautiful, intensely blue eyes as blue as the Caribbean sea on a perfect day, and they were focused directly on me, looking into my eyes.  And then I saw the most notable physical changes.  His ears were pierced.  One small, simple hoop in his left ear, but in his right, he had the matching hoop, with a stud next to it.  He also had a bar running through the top of his ear lobe, and a small hoop through the cartilage just in front of his ear canal.  In addition, there was a hint of a tattoo, showing beneath the bottom of his short sleeve on his right arm.

“What happened to you?” I asked aghast.

“What do you mean?” was his response.

“Your ears.  The Tattoo.  Mrs. B was always opposed to those things.”  I couldn’t contain my complete surprise.

“I still don’t like it,” was her simple reply.

“What I do with my body, stopped being up to her a few years ago,” he said matter of factly.  “We’re divorced.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather.  There’s was never, by any means, a rock solid marriage, but they’d had a mutual determination to stay together forever.  The two of them just looked at me as though he had just informed me of the time and not that their marriage had ended.  And then he continued.  “We split up about three years ago,” he said.  “It was a difficult time for us but we worked through it and for the sake of the kids (they had two the last I knew) we’ve worked out a deal.  We still live together in the same house, just separate bedrooms, and we are friends.”

“Wow.  Well, that’s really great that you could do that, but uh, wh-what’s happening tonight?  You’re out together?  Without the kids?”

“Oh,” piped up Mrs. Batman, “I was actually just dropping him off here, and thought I’d come in and get some dinner to take back with me.”

“My car is in the shop right now, and I’m supposed to be meeting someone here.  Mrs. B was nice enough to give me a ride.”

“Oh,” I said, some what deflated.  “Well, it was good to see you.  I don’t want to keep you from your…  Date?  Meeting?  Friends?”  I had become quite engaged in the conversation and was really enjoying the time with and attention from my long lost friend, and so I was quite disappointed to realize it would be cut short.

“Anyway, I need to get going,” Said Mrs. B, as she was standing up from the table.  “It’s nice to see you again, Kevin.  Maybe I’ll be seeing more of you,” she said.  It came out laced with hidden meaning I did not yet know.  Why would she be seeing more of me?  Batman and I were no longer friends and I didn’t really think their divorce was going to change that.  Especially not if they still lived in the same house.  Before I could say anything, she turned toward Batman, shot him a knowing glance and walked away.

I heard a chuckle from his direction and as I turned to look at him, I realized my mouth was hanging wide open betraying my shock and amazement at the whole thing.  As he moved over to the seat in front of me I asked, “What are you laughing at?”

“Just you.” he replied, smiling.  “Obviously, this all catches you very much by surprise.”

“Uh yeah, you could say that!  I’d love to hear the rest of the story, but I guess you better go find your party.”  I answered, disappointed.

“Eh.  He doesn’t know what I look like.  Never seen him before in my life.  I think I’d rather stay here and catch up with you, if that’s OK?”

“Um–  OK.  Yeah.  I’d love that but what am I missing here?  You’re meeting a guy here you’ve never met before and who wouldn’t know you if he saw you, and whatever the reason it’s unimportant enough to ditch him and hang out with me?”

Batman just laughed and smiled and stared into my eyes.  “That about sums it up,” he said.  “Look, Kevin, the reason why Mrs. B and I split up is because after you were gone from my life, I realized something I never knew before.  Our friendship meant a lot more to me than I ever realized, and in ways I never realized.”  His perpetual grin slowly drained from his face and where just a few minutes prior he had been up-beat and joyful, suddenly he was somber, his eyes were moistening and welling up and there was a quiver in his voice.  “After we stopped being friends and I realized what I’d lost and the part I played in it, I also realized that there was a hole in my heart because of it.  Over time, I realized that what I was missing, wasn’t just your friendship.  I had been in love with you, and I didn’t even realize it.”

With that he reached across the table and gingerly placed his hand on top of mine and looked deeply into my eyes for my reaction.  I was frozen in place.  I could barely feel his warm, soft hand on top of mine.  I couldn’t form any words with my mouth and for a moment it seemed as if we were the only two people in the room.  The music was gone.  The voices that had been straining to be heard over the din were gone.  There was nothing but the sound of my own heart beating in my ears as I struggled to process what had just happened.

And then just like that, it all came rushing back.  The noise, the vibrations, the physical sense of all the people around us.  I blinked, and a single tear fell from my eye and ran down my face.

“Please say something,” he spoke.  “Whatever you have to say, I can take it.  I just need to hear your reaction.”

“I- I never thought–  I mean- I…  I was in love with you too.  It’s part of why the situation was so difficult for me living with you and your family.  I wanted to be friends and I wanted to be accepted by your family so that we could continue to be together in the only way I ever thought we would, but I secretly loved you and was so jealous of all that they had of you, that I could not have.”

There was a long pause as we both just stared into each other’s eyes, not knowing what would come next.  And then I spoke, but the words seemed like they were someone else’s.  I had never imagined this moment could be possible so I certainly had no idea how I could or would react.  “Would you like to go back to my apartment to talk?  I think the peace and quiet would do us both some good.”

I opened the front door of my apartment and looked around, glad that the cleaning lady had been in.  Stepping aside, I held the door as Batman walked past me to explore.  I closed the door behind him and when I turned around, he was right there, looking me in the eyes, and he put his hands on my shoulders.  “I don’t think I want to talk,” he said, as he pushed me against the door and tenderly kissed my lips.   He was so unashamed, uninhibited it took me by surprise.

I’d never done this before.  I’d never brought a man who, for these intents and purposes, was a stranger back to my home.  I’d never immediately launched into a physical encounter barely after the door was locked.  I’d never locked lips (or anything else) with a friend.  In fact, I’d never locked lips (or anything else) with any man, ever, before in my life.  Of course, I had fantasized about it many times before.  I had known for some time that it was something that appealed to me, but it had only been a year or two since I’d finally accepted and stopped denying my sexuality, and thus far, I had never physically acted on those desires.

Batman on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he was doing.  He started out tenderly, gently, almost like he knew this was a first for me.  And then his kisses became more intense, more emphatic, and before I knew it, I was responding in kind.  I reached out for him and wrapped my arms around his back.  My right hand was on the back of his neck and my left hand was around his waist as I held on to him almost for dear life, afraid this moment wasn’t real, that it would end suddenly.  I tilted my head into his kiss and as I parted my lips to kiss him harder I felt his soft, warm tongue slide between them and press against mine.

I felt his hands pressing my shoulders against the door as he dove into my mouth and then I felt him press away from me just a few inches as his hands slid down to the center of my chest and grab the placket of my button down shirt.  In one swift moment he ripped his hands outward, popping every button off my shirt exposing my chest and abdomen to him.  It was every bit as erotic as I dreamed it would be.

As I heard the buttons bouncing off the walls and along the floor, I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist under my shirt and then, while continuing to kiss me passionately, I felt him lift me off my feet and carry me over to the end of the couch where he put me down and shoved me over the arm and down on to the cushions.  And then, with one swift motion he crossed his arms in front of him, grabbed hold of the hem of his pull-over shirt and slipped it right off and over his head, revealing the rock hard abs and perfectly toned, smooth chest that I knew were under there just waiting to come out.  He still wore his military dog tags which nestled nicely between his hard, brown nipples.  And as he looked down at me and grinned, I inhaled sharply, taking in this beautiful specimen of a man that stood before me.

And then he pounced!  He climbed on top of the couch, on top of me and began running his tongue all over my upper body.  My smooth, pale chest and abs were his for the taking, and take them he did.  As he was licking, kissing, nibbling and stroking my body, I could feel my erection beginning.  Just a slight heat at first, but soon, it was pressing against my Calvin Klein’s and my jeans and he could feel it pressing against his chest.  As he was kissing my six pack and sticking his tongue in my belly button, he looked up at me, made eye contact and smiled.  He opened his mouth wide and bared his teeth.  I was excited and nervous all at the same time, not knowing where this was going.  But it was perfectly clear, very quickly, what my friend had in mind.  He tilted his head down and grabbed hold of my belt, the part, in front of the buckle, with his teeth and began to wrestle it free.  He pulled the strap a few inches out of the buckle until it formed a small bump on my waist and then he grabbed it with his left hand, pulling the strap the rest of the way free.

My cock was rigid by now and was pressing uncomfortably against the soft fabric of my briefs and I couldn’t wait for it to be freed.  Batman feverishly worked and within a few seconds he’d unfastened my belt and the button on my pants waist and pulled the zipper down.  Then he reached up and put his fingers inside the waist band of my underwear at the corner of either hipbone and cocked his head slightly.  Without saying a word he conveyed his intent and just as he tugged on my clothes I used the slight leverage of my feet on arm of the couch to raise my ass off the couch cushions making it possible for him to pull them down and away from my now fully engorged penis.  Thwack!  As he was standing up and pulling my lower body attire the rest of the way down to my feet, my erection snapped out of the restraints of my underwear and slapped into my quivering abdomen.  Batman began to laugh as he was struggling to pull my pants all the way off, not remembering I still had my shoes on.

Laughing as well, I sat up and grabbed his wrists.  As I slammed my body back against the cushions I pulled him back over the arm of the couch and down on top of me.  I doubled over slightly as he came down on top of my solid member laying out on my stomach, but I didn’t care about the pain.  I wanted to be in contact with his hot flesh!  Again, I placed my hand on the back of his head and pulled his mouth down onto mine.  This time there was no time for tenderness.  I needed to feel his skin against mine.  I needed to touch his warm lips and probing tongue and for a few minutes I explored every part of his mouth, his chin and his neck and shoulders.  And then I became the forgetful one as I found some leverage and pushed to roll over on top of him, not remembering that we were on the couch and there was no where to roll to.

My downstairs neighbors probably had a start when they heard the thud on their ceiling, and for a moment I had to stop and laugh at the idea that they had no knowledge of what was happening right above their heads.  And then, there we were, Batman splayed out on the floor, pinned beneath my body.  My pants were still around my ankles and the restriction that provided had me straddling my friend, with my feet between his knees and my knees on either side of his hips.  Then I felt his own erection pressed against the inside of my naked left thigh.  He resisted slightly and I gently took hold of his wrists and pinned them above his head on the floor.  I leaned down to kiss his face and made eye contact with this beautiful creature beneath me.  I stopped abruptly and just stared into his eyes.

“What?” he asked, slightly out of breath but sounding worried.  “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.  I just–  I guess, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long and now that it’s here…  I just don’t want to ruin it.  I want it to be special.  Meaningful.  You know?”

He smiled so tenderly at me.  “I know,” he said.  “Here.  Get up,” he told me as he began to sit up on his own.  I climbed awkwardly off of him and sat, bare-assed, on the couch.  Batman sat up on the floor and tuned to face me.  He placed his hands on my exposed thighs and looked into my eyes.  He just looked, tenderly at me for several seconds before he said, “If you don’t want to do this, I understand.  I think it would be really beautiful though.”  I smiled slightly.  “Besides,” he said as he ran the back of his hand along my waning erection, which jumped lightly at his touch, “You do seem like you want to do this.”

I smiled.  “I do.  I really do.  Let’s just…  Let’s just make it count. OK?”

He didn’t answer.  He just smiled sweetly and then looked down at the floor.  Slowly he reached down and lifted my piled up pants from the top of my left shoe and pulled the end of the lace.  The laces came untied and he loosened them before he pulled my shoe off.  Then he gathered the material of my pants in his right hand while gently lifting my leg out of the pants leg with his left.  When my leg was free of the fabric, he used his right hand to remove my sock.  After doing the same with my right leg he uncrossed his legs and effortlessly stood up from the floor in one muscular, fluid motion.  Standing in front of me naked from the waist up, he tugged his own shoes and socks off and kicked them to the side before extending his hand to me, palm up.

I reached out and placed my hand in his and he lightly supported my weight as I stood up from the couch now completely naked and with my half mast sicking straight out in front of me and rubbing slightly on his still shrouded crotch.  “Which way is the bedroom?” he asked.  I turned to the side, took his hand in mine and led him, silently, to the bedroom door.  The sheets were fresh and the bed beautifully made, thanks, again, to the cleaning lady.  After I opened the door, Batman silently walked past me and led me to the bed.  He delicately pulled back the linens and then guided me to the edge of the bed to sit.  As I sat facing him I watched as he began to loosen the belt on his own jeans.  He unfastened his belt and his pants and slowly began to push them to the floor.

As his own solid cock sprung from his clothes I again took a sharp breath.  I’d never been in this situation before.  I’d never been in the same room with a real live hard erection that wasn’t my own, and never been about to do what I now knew was going to happen, and was certain it was what I wanted.  He stepped out of his jeans and took a step toward me, motioning with his hands for me to climb into the bed and lay back.

I carefully slid to the far side of the bed and lay my head on the pillows.  My breath was shallow and quick and I could feel the nerves rising in my stomach.  This was really happening and I was ready!  As I felt the mattress sink at the weight of Batman climbing on, I closed my eyes and waited for what was to come.  I sensed, more than felt him hovering over my hard-on and then I felt the light, moist touch of his tongue starting at the base of my cock where it meets with my balls and working it’s way slowly up to the tip where he licked the opening that was already releasing pre-cum.  And then I felt him take my cock in his hand and lift it up to his lips, while the other hand began to lightly fondle and squeeze my nuts.  Suddenly, I felt a wet warmth as my dick was engulfed in his mouth.  Slowly at first he ran his mouth, up and down, up and down running his tongue over the sensitive under-side of my engorged tip.  I couldn’t believe how incredible it felt.  Just as I knew it would, it felt like the most perfect, natural thing in the world.  Not even coming close to the sensations I’d experienced in my few previous encounters with the opposite sex.  This was as God had intended for me.

My friend continued his ministrations and I could feel my ball sack tightening as he continued to take all of my eight inches into his mouth and throat.  He was clearly quite skilled in this area, so to speak, and as my body began to stiffen and quiver, he stopped his motion, with my erection deep in his throat and began a light sucking motion that I had never experienced the likes of before!  “I’m gonna cum!” I whispered, as that was the most sound I could produce.  I expected he would pull my cock from his mouth and let me shoot my load, but instead he kept my dick deep in the back of his throat and increased the intensity of his suction.

“Unh-  uh, Ahh.  Ahhhh! AHHHHHHHH!!!” I cried out as I felt the cum leaving my body and shooting deep into his throat, nine, ten, eleven, twelve times I felt my entire body convulse as I shot load after load into his belly.  When it was done, and I was completely still, he slowly began to extract my now softening penis from his mouth, keeping his lips tight while sucking, licking and pulling every drop of cum from my spent member.    When he was done, he looked up at me and smiled.

“How was that?” he asked, knowing what the obvious response would be.

My chest and abdomen heaved as I struggled to stabilize my breathing.  “Hmmm,” was all I could muster at first.  “Tha-  That was incredible.”  A few more breaths, “Best I’ve ever experienced, for sure.”

“Well, hold on to your hat, sweet cheeks,” he told me, “‘Cause the fun has only just begun!”

I had no idea I had so much story to tell.  Stay tuned for Batman’s Return, Pt. 2, coming soon!

Theraputic Mistery

Therapy was tough tonight.  There was a moment that kinda slipped by me until after it was all over.

Insightful Therapist and I briefly discussed, at the end of the session, the fact that I had been honest with the Match Support Specialist (MSS) at Big Brother’s and Big sisters, on Thursday, about the fact that I’m gay.  IT asked me if that felt significant to me, to have “come out” and been so honest with the Specialist about something that is so intensely difficult for me.  I said that it did not, because much to my surprise it wasn’t nearly as difficult for me as I thought it would be.

It was a little difficult to say, but far less so than what I had anticipated.  The MSS asked me about my relationship with my family and in particular my parents.  Describing my relationship with Dead Beat Dad was easy.  I pretty much don’t have one.  I’d like to.  And I am sort of working on it, but for the most part it’s just too difficult.  Vengeful Mother on the other hand is a little more difficult to explain.  I just told the MSS that my relationship with VM is strained, that I wish it wasn’t and it’s a work in progress, but that VM is very emphatic about her Christian beliefs and that she and I have some conflicts of interest, namely that I’m gay and VM wouldn’t be OK with it if she knew.  I informed the MSS that my family is not yet aware of this.

What I was expressing to Insightful Therapist, though possibly not completely clearly, was that despite my expectations, it didn’t feel like such a big deal to tell the MSS that I’m gay.  IT was asking me if that felt like a significant experience to me and I said, “No.”  But what I was saying was, “No. It didn’t feel terribly significant to tell the MSS about my sexuality.”

As I was leaving the waiting area of Insightful Therapist‘s office, it suddenly dawned on me.  She wasn’t asking me if it felt significant to tell a virtual stranger about my sexuality.  She was asking me if it felt significant to me, that it didn’t feel significant to tell a virtual stranger about my sexuality.  My answer to that question is, “Yes!  That’s huge!”

There was a lot more to our session tonight.  I’d hate to suggest that I’ve got it all worked out and narrowed down to a handful of factors, just to be wrong, but it seems to me that I’ve stumbled upon something.  It’s my fear that’s holding me back.  I am, truthfully, and shamefully, terrified of taking any steps that might move me forward.

I’m terrified of going to AA meetings, or Coming Out Support Groups.  I felt sick to my stomach and like I might pass out when I was seriously considering the possibility of volunteering with the HRC.  It’s not that I don’t think I can do anything with them.  I know I can.  But there are people there.  People that I don’t know.  And when I began to imagine what might come next after filling out the volunteer form, I was in agony… sick to my stomach… light headed.  I felt like I might just faint, right here in my chair whilst I considered such an absurd thing.

I’ve had so many experiences of rejection by people in randomly public situations that I don’t really feel comfortable taking the risk any more.  It’s easy for Insightful Therapist to nod her head and say, “That must have been so painful.”  But it’s so much more than painful.  It’s debilitating to think of taking the risk again.  To consider putting myself out there for such treatment to be issued, because what IT doesn’t convey that she understands is that it will happen again.  Maybe not on such a grand scale.  Maybe not in such an oppressive manor, but it will happen again.  And it will happen every time I put myself out there.  For every person who will treat me with a modicum of respect, there will be fifteen who will treat me like so much dog doo on the sole of their shoe.  Like I’m something to be dealt with and forgotten about.  I just want to be welcomed, treated with respect and dignity and love, just for being who I am.  To be treated like I’m Somebody’s Somebody, but I can’t shake the fact that, no matter where I go or what I do, There will always seem to be a majority who does not like me.

Just Like Riding a Bike

I wasn’t very good at sex, and if you don’t believe me I’m sure “She” will agree with me. There were certainly some mitigating circumstances, like chemically induced erection rejection and anatomical disinterest that was yet to be detected. I’d like to think that if and when I get another chance, WITH A DUDE, that will change.

But the phrase “It’s just like riding a bike” took on a whole new meaning to me yesterday.

Thanks to the time change, I managed to wake up before noon on a Sunday. More importantly, I woke up before what would have been noon even if the time change hadn’t happened. I decided this was a good time to go out and blow the dust off the bicycle I bought more than a month ago with the intention of getting my sorry ass out for some much needed exercise. I got up, had some breakfast, fed Scared Kitty got dressed and went out to the bike. I took the bike down to the street, hopped on and started peddling… badly.

I haven’t been on a non-stationary bike, in more than 20 years so this turned out to be a much more difficult proposition than you might expect. It became apparent that my tires were under inflated (Even though I inflated them when I bought the bike) and that my seat was too low (I was kneeing myself in the chest with each revolution.) I only rode one time around the block and nearly got myself killed twice.

This is a 21 speed bike which I selected mostly based on the scientific conclusion that it’s orange and I like orange. But I have never been on a bike with “speeds” before. My last bike was a red and silver BMX bike and I was half my weight and two feet shorter then. Anyway, this bike has 21 speeds and I don’t have a clue what “speed” I should start off with and I’m pretty sure I was getting too much speed/distance with each revolution of peddling and I had a lot of trouble controlling my speed (not unlike with sex.) I made a wide turn that almost ran me into a curb (not unlike sex) (OK, even I don’t know what that means.)

When I turned the next corner I turned out in front of an on coming car that almost took me out. By the time I got back to my house I was done! I carried the bike back up to my locked porch, inflated the tires some more, raised the seat and called it a day. I was exhausted and drenched in sweat after only a few short minutes of effort – not unlike— Well you get the idea.

Nude, Nudism, Nudist, Naturism, Naturist is the key

My all time most viewed post is here: http://startedliving.wordpress.com/2008/07/14/national-nude-recreation-week-pt-2/  No real content to speak of…  All the searches come from the categories listed above…

So apparently all you have to do to get views is to tag your entries with these words.  It’s interesting, but it’s kind of sad too.

What can you do with a stopwatch?

In the first season episode of the Brittish television show “Torchwood” entitled “They Keep Killing Suzie” there are two references made to a stopwatch. The first time Owen makes a comment about “give Ianto a stopwatch and he’s happy.” Ianto says, “Its the little button on the top.”

The second reference comes at the end of the show when Jack is putting Suzie back in the morgue and Ianto says to him, “You know I’ve still got that stopwatch… I can think of lots of things you can do with a stopwatch.” Jack gets very excited and says “I’ll send the others home early.”

I will admit to a certain amount of naïveté, but short of timing either how quickly you can come, or how long you can hold out, I’m at a complete loss as to what he might have had in mind.

Anyone have any thoughts or suggestions?

I Did the Right Thing?

Ok.  So, it’s late.  I’m drunk and I shoulda been in bed a long time ago, so I’ll make this quick…

I was instant messaging earlier this eveng with a 14 year old kid I met through an on-line support group type website….  He’s a nice looking kid, and most of our conversation was about his relationship with his parents now that he’s come out to them…

Toward the end of our conversation, though, he mentioned that he was horney and looking for someone to get him off.  He was clear that he wanted me to be that someone…  But I wouldn’t work with him because he’s a child and I’m an adult and I know better thatn to get involved in a child’s world…

He kept insisting that it was ok…  That I can’t get in trouble for on-line conversations…  But I told him, cute as he is, it wasn’t worth the risk for me…  he’s just too young…

What does the world at large think?  I pretty much know that I did the right thing by not getting involved….  But did I have anything to be afraid of?

It’d be good to know.  It’s also good to CYA!!!!  🙂

My First Gay Date… Sort Of.

I’ve had my job, in the Facility Management office of my building, for just over six years.  In that time, I’ve had interactions with many types of individuals, vendors, repairmen, engineers, etc.  When I started I was, among other things, responsible for approving and coordinating building wide events in our building lobby.

There is an individual with whom we have dealt on a number of occasions, who coordinates education fairs.  He works for the University of Phoenix here in Oakland, CA.  I will call him UOP Guy.

UOP Guy and I communicated on multiple occasions about education fairs in the lobby.  One day when I was sill an Administrative Assistant UOP Guy invited me to lunch as a show of appreciation for my efforts to help him coordinate his education fairs.

I spent the next few days after the invite, experiencing anxiety over the possibility that this might every well be a date, I just wasn’t sure.  I was still very closeted, and still in denial to myself.  And yet, I was willing, at least at that moment, to take the chance that this was in fact a date.  How would I handle it if it were?  I had no idea.  Part of me hoped that it was just that.

UOP Guy and I met up for lunch that day and I was very nervous about the whole thing.  I imagined it was a date.  I tried to make sure I said the right things.  I complimented UOP Guy on his choice of restaurant and the type of food/environment it provided.  I smiled politely, I laughed at all the right moments.  I commented on what a great time I’d had and how we should do it again.

When the lunch was over, UOP Guy walked me to the door and bid me farewell…

I walked back to work befuddled as to what had happened, and what might come next.  While we had a few interactions in the interim, UOP Guy and I didn’t communicate much for a good year or two.  By that time my title had changed and UOP Guy and I didn’t have much interaction at all, yet he invited me to lunch again.

It was at this lunch that UOP Guy began to talk to me about his girlfriend and their living arrangement as a couple living together in San Francisco, apartment life, parking problems, et. al.

I was even more befuddled.  My instincts told me that UOP Guy is gay, and I’ve fantasized about a lovely life as a same-sex couple living in San Francisco with a great social life, healthy bank account and a great apartment in which we’d live.  If only that damn bitch (he said playfully) weren’t in the way…  Assuming she even exists.

To this day, I have very little interaction with UOP Guy.  I wish I had the courage, strength and knowledge of our culture to know what is welcomed and whether/how to make an advance, but I don’t.  I just get to wonder…

I would sure like to find a guy with whom I have things in common, and I can be myself.  But from where I stand now I don’t know how to tell who’s who and what they represent.  I sure wish we wore signs or something.

Unexpected Outing

I hadn’t actualy planned on doing so any time soon, but I ended up coming out to Unsvelt Girl Who Runs today.  She was in my office and we were having one of our MANY random conversations when the subject of gays came up.

“I wish I had a gay friend,” said UGWR, “They’re usually just as catty as I am.”

“Actually, you do.” I said.

“I do?” she asked, confused.  “Am I aware of this?”

I smiled, “Well, you weren’t.”

She quickly changed the subject and brought up her former co-worker, Margalo, the one I previously heard her talk about and had the reaction that made me quetion whether coming out to Unsvelt Girl was the right thing to do.

After a few minutes of Margalo conversation, I said, “See, I can’t tell if you’re glossing over what I just said, or if you’re not understanding what I just said.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” she said as she continuted to converse/monopolize the conversation.  I became a bit anxious about what that meant and if I was going to have to decide whether to explain it or not, when she said, “Why did we decide to share today?”

“It was time?” I replied.  Unsvelt Girl has no gaydar and in her earlier days, dated a number of guys who turned out later to be gay.  She equates it with her lack of an internal compass….

I asked her, “Given your…  lack of sense of direction…  does this come as a surprise to you?”

“Not really.” she said.  “You’re very… fastideous.  I can’t really put my finger on it.  I’m just not surprised.” 

Later, afer this conversation had come to a natural conclusion, I asked her, via Instant message, “It’s because I added Clay Aiken as my very first albun to my first iPod isn’t it?” 

She laughed and said, “That’s it.  Becuase, you know, every one who…  Is…  does that…!”

I think that means she’s ok with things and acepts them as the are…

Perhaps, the Hardest Step

On Sunday, M&M, who, at 33 years old (me not her),  is the one and only woman I have ever been physically intimate with, took me out to dinner and a movie as a belated birthday celebration.  I had already made up my mind at that point that I was determined to come out to her.  

 

Strangely, I didn’t really think it would be that difficult.  Man was I mistaken!  I was very nervous and visibly shaking.  “So,” I started, “If someone had something to tell you that you may or may not want to hear, how would and when would you want them to do it?”

“Um.  I don’t know,”  she said.  “In a joke maybe?  I don’t know.  Just come out and say it I guess.  Why?  Do you have something to tell me?  Are you sick?  Are you dieing?”

“Yes” I said, “I’m sick.  I have an inoperable brain tumor.  I have six months to live.”  She laughed but she did not get the joke.  

 

With a mouthful of California Pizza Kitchen, Hawaiian pizza, eyes averted and my hand in front of my mouth I murmured, “Would it come as a surprise to you, if I told you I was gay?”

She didn’t hear me. 

I moved my hand, swallowed and said more clearly, but not much more loudly, “Would it come as a surprise to you, if I told you I was gay?”

 

There was what seemed like an eternity before she said, “No.  Not really.”  The rest is a blur actually.  I was still anxious and shaking, I was less interested in discussing it further than I thought I would be.  We talked about something else, she asked another question.  I answered as best I could.  She stared at me like there was supposed to be something more.  We discussed other topics.  She asked me if I was ok.

“No, I’m not.” 

And so it went for nearly another hour before we called it a night and parted ways.  I feel better today.  It’s out there, and I can’t take it back.  That’s something.  I feel that I have a lot farther to go.  I do believe, though, that telling M&M was one of the biggest hurdles I had to face.  Now that she knows I don’t have to worry about things getting back to her.  I would think, though I can’t be sure, that telling the next person should be easier.  

I’m having second thoughts about telling Unsvelt Girl Who Runs.  We’re friends and I’d like to feel like I can share this with her, but we work in the same small office with three other people, and she tends to be loud even when she thinks she’s not being.  She also can get very upset with people, myself included, and I’m not entirely sure I can count on her not to use this as ammunition the next time she thinks I’ve done something wrong against her.  I’m not in a huge hurry to tell my coworkers and I‘m not sure I can count on her to keep my confidence.  That one will require some further thought.

 

For now, I’m just glad to not have to hide it all the time…and I’m glad that M&M handled it well.  In a way, she’d have had every right to be hurt and angry, but she’s not…  Well not really.  She seemed to be genuinely disappointed that I told my friend Center o’ the Universe (Don’t believe me, just ask her), who lives 1800 miles away, has believed I was gay from the day we met, is the only person I knew who I knew exacly how would respnd, and oh yeah, I’m head over heals in love with (pussy and all)  a year or so ago but couldn’t tell her (M&M) till now.  She’ll get over that.

(Sigh, a long heavy breath of relief.)