todays topic is brought to you by the letter -F-, BECAUSE PEOPLE LIKE TO -*F*vCk-!
I went to go visit the bone zone today with a new buddy today. the sex was hotter than usual. and i think it was because I was FEELING sexy. my sex life has been on an upward swing the past few weeks, maybe its because ive been taking better care of myself? . someone said i had sex appeal today, and it really boosted my confidence. and i thought to myself, why dont gay men give out more compliments? were always so busy talking about ourselves. If we all took a sec to compliment a buddy on something, it might make someones day. it sure made mine. and if we keep surrounding ourselves with this positive sexy energy, it can give us more confidence, and make us take better care of ourselves. dont you agree? i always believed that kindness make the world go round. Men should be more aware of there sexuality, I like to think people who are comfortable in their own skin and who are knowledgeable about sex have the most sex appeal. what are your thoughts on sex appeal and sexuality?
Meanwhile....
im still on my quarterlife crisis! i cant wait untill this weekend, im going up to bellingham, to be with my GROAN! maybe this is what i need, a nice relaxing weekend to getaway, and to re-focus. I hope everyones doing well, and if you have a sec, check out my new myspace page.
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Here's my story.
It was a relatively conservative town, but large enough to have a decent gay bar. Bartenders all lost their shirts about midnight, boys humping on stage, Madonna blaring with some screensaver-esq projection behind them. I can never help but feel both mildly uncomfortable and incredibly attractive herding through the mass of people. Knowing that someones checking out my ass, couples are looking and whispering and the dance floor bounces to celebrate your entrance. In my mind at this time it is all for me. I know the whispers are about the people beyond me, the glances are blinded by the flashing lights, the whispers are those of dreams about how they would like to take me home but instead about whether the music choices that night are "gay" enough. Regardless. In my mind the gay bar is all about me... well it's not a gay bar, more an everyone bar. Old couples are dirty dancing, men women, transvestites, straight people, everyone who isn't out to judge. Those who don't want to be judged find unity in this place. Add a little alcohol and some music and it might just be the most honest place I've been. Everyone's a little more honest with who they are and what they want... even if it's a little sluttier than you might imagine.
The night blurs and alcohol flows. Friends laugh and pictures are taken. I go outside to breath. The night air is cool and refreshing. A change from the noise, sweat, and people who are merely feet away. But the muffled sound of them seems to disappear as you stand on the balcony and look out over the quiet city. A few drunkards wandering and there are clusters of activity outside each bar as the smokers gather for their ritual.
He approached me. Cute. I had seen him inside. I was on my game making eyes while I danced. But really the music was on my mind. I passed him a few times but I was intent on getting the next drink. He walked up and introduced himself. Timmy. I said hi and we talked a bit. I took his beer and finished it. I'm that classy. He told me about wanting to move, I told him about not being from there. We discussed getting pizza then were mobbed by the friends. More pictures were taken. He was sweet and everyone was drunk and got along. We all departed our ways. I went with him to get some food, but told him I wasn't hungry and we walked the two blocks to his house.
There I met crazy roommates, drank more, told racist, sexist, anti-gay jokes. It was weird. Like I had known all these people for so long. I was incredibly awkward though masked by the drunken stupor. I knew I should be comfortable but my guard was up. It didn't matter though, I ignored myself and enjoyed myself. We flirted and I assured him I wouldn't have sex with him.
That's honestly not what he wanted. He might have done it, but he was fine. Comfortable. We hung out then went to his room.
It was one of the most fun times I've ever had in bed. From the moment we were alone the compliments poured out. For the next couple hours ever time we stopped and took a breath he was telling me how sexy I was. How cute. Wonderful. Hot. Fun. Repeatedly.
I was shy and a bit awkward. But I'm always a bit insecure. I had never had someone I don't know be so flattering. I don't think I have the best body in the world, but the things he said made me feel like a god. We got kinky and had some non sex fun. And after promising I had to leave at least six times I finally left his room after the sun was up. I crawled over people strewn about the living room as I left, walked to my car in this familiar but unfamiliar town. Found my way to my friends only to realize I was locked out. But it didn't matter. I felt beautiful. Hungover, tired, sweaty, dirty, smelling of jizz I felt beautiful. And at that I crawled in my back seat and fell asleep.
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