beer, sex and self analysis
as suspected, everything is back to normal. the change of heart, or sexual temperament, was only temporary and i went to the west side club tuesday night.
every trip into manhattan is a walk through a minefield in terms of getting into sexual situations. just wanted to check home depot to see if they had longer shades than bed bath & beyond (they do) and as i walk out i see, right across the street, a porn shop, went in and sucked this indian guy off. then just wanted to finally get some 2 cent (why the hell do i have to write out cent? what happened to the little c with a line through it?) stamps at 34th st, stopped by the tick tock diner for something to eat, knew i shouldn't have a beer or 2 or 3 but did anyway, and hit the porn shop across 8th ave, didn't do anything, but it got me charged enough to head towards the studio, stopped at mustang sally's for another beer or 2 and then proudly walked past the studio and into the waiting arms, asses and cocks at the west side club. had a good time only got fucked raw once, don't know if the guy came or not (he seemed like he had parkinson's disease, very tremorous). did end on a really sweet note as this hot black guy came in and i fucked him shooting a huge load deep in his ass, i ate him out as he oozed cum, some finding it's way into the straps on his jock (sucked that as clean as i could too) and finally he rode me some more until he came.
WARNING, BORING BELLY-BUTTON EXAMINING AHEAD, PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK
i did try and think about why i do the things i do. what follows is the text of my drunken scribbling in mustang sally's:
why do you want to forget about how people love you? why don't you want to think @ how you affect others? why just ignore it all? if you are dead you can't help at all . . . is that why? you don't want to help??
who knows, but i suspect there is some truth to be gleaned from these thoughts. shuck responsibility and fuck everyone, steve just wants to have fun; regardless of the possible/probable unpleasant/unwanted? future consequences. unpleasant yes, but unwanted deserves that question mark. do i want aids? i don't want to believe that i do, but on some level i think i must. maybe i think i deserve it and the unpleasantness that comes with it. blah blah blah . . .
lastly, i have been feeling a bit ill lately (since tuesday actually). mainly achy and tired, probably a sinus infection, i'm always getting them. i have felt this way before which is why i haven't checked in with the people at the nyu vaccine trial. they said that if i find myself with the symptoms of initial hiv infection i should call and let them know. i was waiting for night sweats or a rash or some additional sign but nothing thus far. still, the spectre of infection stands in the wings of any illness as far as i am concerned. i suppose it always (or at least often) has, even back when i was so safe in college. i remember one night, lying awake because i felt so crappy, dazedly listening to wrsu, which had some really nice programming on at 3 in the morning. i was so out of it i looked out across the street at alexander library, and thought that it looked lit up and open, but i was certain that it couldn't be. (i don't remember this, but wouldn't be surprised if even at that low moment i wondered what action might be going on in the basement bathroom). i promised god that i would be safe from then on and not let anyone cum in my mouth anymore if he just let me escape my certain fate this one last time. now god and i laugh about those conversations, or at least i do. it seems funny how freaked i used to get after just giving a guy a blowjob and now, almost 20 years later, i'm taking raw cock and loads of cum up my ass. i can't say i still get freaked. worrying a little is at least somewhat accurate though.
every trip into manhattan is a walk through a minefield in terms of getting into sexual situations. just wanted to check home depot to see if they had longer shades than bed bath & beyond (they do) and as i walk out i see, right across the street, a porn shop, went in and sucked this indian guy off. then just wanted to finally get some 2 cent (why the hell do i have to write out cent? what happened to the little c with a line through it?) stamps at 34th st, stopped by the tick tock diner for something to eat, knew i shouldn't have a beer or 2 or 3 but did anyway, and hit the porn shop across 8th ave, didn't do anything, but it got me charged enough to head towards the studio, stopped at mustang sally's for another beer or 2 and then proudly walked past the studio and into the waiting arms, asses and cocks at the west side club. had a good time only got fucked raw once, don't know if the guy came or not (he seemed like he had parkinson's disease, very tremorous). did end on a really sweet note as this hot black guy came in and i fucked him shooting a huge load deep in his ass, i ate him out as he oozed cum, some finding it's way into the straps on his jock (sucked that as clean as i could too) and finally he rode me some more until he came.
WARNING, BORING BELLY-BUTTON EXAMINING AHEAD, PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK
i did try and think about why i do the things i do. what follows is the text of my drunken scribbling in mustang sally's:
why do you want to forget about how people love you? why don't you want to think @ how you affect others? why just ignore it all? if you are dead you can't help at all . . . is that why? you don't want to help??
who knows, but i suspect there is some truth to be gleaned from these thoughts. shuck responsibility and fuck everyone, steve just wants to have fun; regardless of the possible/probable unpleasant/unwanted? future consequences. unpleasant yes, but unwanted deserves that question mark. do i want aids? i don't want to believe that i do, but on some level i think i must. maybe i think i deserve it and the unpleasantness that comes with it. blah blah blah . . .
lastly, i have been feeling a bit ill lately (since tuesday actually). mainly achy and tired, probably a sinus infection, i'm always getting them. i have felt this way before which is why i haven't checked in with the people at the nyu vaccine trial. they said that if i find myself with the symptoms of initial hiv infection i should call and let them know. i was waiting for night sweats or a rash or some additional sign but nothing thus far. still, the spectre of infection stands in the wings of any illness as far as i am concerned. i suppose it always (or at least often) has, even back when i was so safe in college. i remember one night, lying awake because i felt so crappy, dazedly listening to wrsu, which had some really nice programming on at 3 in the morning. i was so out of it i looked out across the street at alexander library, and thought that it looked lit up and open, but i was certain that it couldn't be. (i don't remember this, but wouldn't be surprised if even at that low moment i wondered what action might be going on in the basement bathroom). i promised god that i would be safe from then on and not let anyone cum in my mouth anymore if he just let me escape my certain fate this one last time. now god and i laugh about those conversations, or at least i do. it seems funny how freaked i used to get after just giving a guy a blowjob and now, almost 20 years later, i'm taking raw cock and loads of cum up my ass. i can't say i still get freaked. worrying a little is at least somewhat accurate though.
posted by cosmaz at 9:24 PM
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