wendy and lucy and steve

i saw the movie ‘wendy and lucy’ last night. i wasn't sure what i wanted to see, but seeing as it wasn't up for any oscars and it was a holiday, that movie might be my best bet for a not packed theater so i went for it. it was a beautiful and well acted movie; it was a sad story. wandering around the city after the movie i was thinking about loneliness and consequences of actions and smiling, and not about sex at all.

i know there are people who care about me and love me. at times that is not enough, or it doesn't feel like enough. i would like someone to love and share lots of things with. at this point i don't have that and am not exactly sure how to find it or even if it is worth finding if you have to search for it. i know it is worth finding, but i have my suspicions about the usefulness of searching for it. a guy came over for the first time in a long time yesterday. i had been feeling almost crazed and really longing for sex and when i saw a guy online with whom i usually partied i about saying 'hi,' not that i wanted to get together, or rather, not that i wanted to admit that i wanted to get together. i am trying to avoid the bookstores and hook up online so that i can at least know who i've fucked around with. i don't believe fooling around with them is any safer because, while i know their names and phone numbers, i don’t know how cautious they tend to be when it comes to stds. my chances of having fun, however, are better as are my chances of being comfortable. we had played before and like the last time i had a really nice time: he's a great kisser and has a beautiful ass for eating and fucking. we do talk during our sessions and he is quite the slut. i would like to get to know him better. i asked if he was up for getting something to eat and he declined. i suppose he just isn't interested in getting to know me better, but i want or need to explicitly say: i think you are a nice guy and in addition to eating and fucking and someday getting fucked i want to hang out with you too. as i write this there are guys who have mentioned they would like to hang out together, but they are partnered and while i have hung out with them on occasions and would like to hang out with them again it is not the same. i want sex and a close relationship, not just hanging out when your partner isn’t available. i’m not sure the guy who came over would be up for that but i was hoping. i was also thinking if i only had a partner i wouldn't feel lonely anymore...then i laughed. i am not sure i should have laughed, but i did think it was unlikely that having a partner would eliminate that feeling. i thought about asking people who have partners if they ever feel lonely, but it is a tough question to ask and i haven’t managed to ask it yet. i’m thinking of asking my parents, but that would be a really hard question to ask.

can everything we do possibly be for the best? or is it that you might as well assume it’s for the best because you will never know anyway? that ‘best’ may not be the best for everyone or even a good looking best for anyone. it seems like a crap shoot. our actions ripple across time and people and we can have no idea what would have happened for better or worse if we had taken a different course. regret is useless because who knows what would have happened otherwise. it is hard to keep that in mind though. it makes me think of predestination in a way, but that is not it. what if i hadn’t taken that poz load? ‘who the fuck knows?’ is the only accurate/appropriate response i can think of. so even if i wished i hadn’t taken that load, even if i wished i had never been infected is there anyway to know that that would have been a good thing? it’s very confusing and makes my head hurt because it almost sounds like do whatever the fuck you want and it will work out, but maybe not for the best and maybe not for you/me/whoever. it’s floating and not knowing, it’s existing and accepting; it sounds like a load of crap, but i don’t know that that makes it wrong or inaccurate. our actions do matter it's just that we are unlikely to understand exactly how they matter. that is what conscience, religion and the other influencers on our actions are theoretically for; to give us an idea of what our actions should be. but do these influencers internal or external know any better than our conscious mind does?

shit does happen and you can't smile through all of it. in ‘wendy and lucy’ a fair amount of shit comes wendy’s way and she rarely smiles. i smile a lot. at work, the kids often ask why i smile all the time; i reply: why shouldn't i? after seeing this movie, that strikes me as a poor response. i smile because i am lucky i don't have much to frown about. i have my problems and i decide which ones i’ll frown about and which ones i won’t. things could be worse and there could be very little to be done about it except to struggle on and see what happens, for the most part i doubt if there'd be much smiling involved.

decisions, decisions

i took my last shot of interferon on december 27 so now all that is left, hopefully, is to wait and see if the treatment worked. while waiting i mean to try to be safe, but it is that odd/hypocritical safe that really isn’t safe at all. stopping by an adult bookstore and fucking whatever sweet ass i am presented with, though i can’t say i’m presented with many, is not safe, but it’s not a premeditated, planned risk; instead it's one of those nice ‘who would have guessed this would happen’ risks.

when a guy who i had a great time over the summer told me that his trip to florida was great and he had had tons of sex i became unsure of hooking up with him, though i had contacted him in order to hook up again knowing he had gone to florida and knowing he had probably had tons of sex while down there. i would love to hook up with him again, but at the same time i fear what he brings with him after tons of sex. i am not blind, not in retrospect at least, to the fact that a guy who backs his ass up to a gloryhole in nyc and takes my load up his ass is probably also having tons of sex and bringing similar things with him, that i would also fear if i weren't hard and needing/wanting it at the moment.

my uncertainty comes from second and succeeding thoughts, not from any new information. my uncertainty comes from not deciding (d'uh! believe it or not this is a fucking revelation to me). i need to decide. decide what i’m willing to do and stick with it. decide that my preferences, concerns, needs should come before the imagined responses of sexual partners who may, or may not take offense to my decisions. decide to do what i decide to do. all this deciding, and sticking with decisions sounds like work though, and it’s so much easier to fool myself and stop at a bookstore and be pleasantly surprised by what happens there (the worry afterwards doesn’t last that long), but then i’d have to write another post like this one and the many like it i’ve written before.

kissing through a wall

there is something about anonymous sex that i really enjoy. then, there is something about it that really troubles me. i can shoot a load up a guys ass in seconds at a gloryhole, but sometimes when we are face to face it can take a while, though i’m usually happy that it’s taking a while as i enjoy the time spent together and cumming, while great, is not the main thing i am looking for. i guess i am troubled because i imagine that it says something uncomplimentary about my relationship with sex. i would think that if you like someone socially you would be able to enjoy them sexually. that does not always happen with me, in fact it doesn’t happen often at all. i don’t know what that says, if anything, about my view of sex, but if it is saying something, odds are it is not saying anything good. all that being said, i do enjoy anonymous sex. you would think that my experiences with stds in the past year would deter me from fucking guys willing to put their asses up to a hole in a partition in an adult bookstore, but that is not the case at all. twice in the last two weeks i’ve fucked guys in bookstores. there were very few preliminaries with either of them: the guy at the blue store on 8th asked if i would fuck him and i didn’t have to think long at all to answer that i felt i could do that. the guy at the store on 6th and 23rd just turned around and showed me his ass, which looked nice, until i reached through and played with his hole a bit and then stuck my dick through and he backed on to it. he had a sweet ass and i held off cumming for as long as possible which wasn’t long at all, then i continued fucking him for a bit and pulled out. we both bent down and peered through the hole and started kissing, to be honest it started as sticking our tongues through and lapping each others tongue, but we did manage to actually get our lips to touch and he kissed very nicely (considering the limitations). i considered asking about getting his number, but decided against it.

i have also decided to try being better about posting again. this decision comes from a staff development day workshop in which the presenter mentioned that just allotting 5 minutes in the morning and 5 minutes in the evening can go a long way towards giving you time to do what you are always putting off. this should mean shorter more frequent posts, but we will see how it all works out. this one has taken a lot longer than the 10 minutes i had allotted (something else to work on who-hooo!)

happy?

i just finished holleran’s grief for a book club. i found it engaging and interesting and a book i needed to read. it brought up the question of what is it to live? for me this brought up the question of addiction. what is addiction? i mean i will readily admit i am addicted to crystal meth, regardless of the length of time i have not used it, but what does that mean? is an addiction the adding of too much of something to your life that you want? is engaging in extreme sports an addiction? (haven’t i brought this up before?) what about meditating? is it just called addiction when society frowns upon the behavior? this line of questions came up when i was thinking about the characters in the book and how they were nervous about having sex and becoming infected with any std. this reminded me of a conversation i had last night with a friend who was telling me that 'so many people are catching stuff’ (tell me about it, said ironically) and i thought, what should that mean to me? i started this blog by edging towards the behavior that i wanted, or at least that i thought i wanted, and recently i have incredulously found myself typing the words ‘safe only’ and ‘no pnp’ in my online profiles though with some indication that this is only a temporary state of affairs. is this reality intruding upon my cumslut fantasy or is it me retreating from a willingness to live the life i want, or think i want, regardless of the consequences? seeing as i have played around and done some things i had claimed i would not be doing…i don’t know how to end this sentence. seeing as i have done these things what? does that indicate that one of the two options i presented above is correct? am i willing to let my cumslut fantasy wreck my life and my health, or am i willing to take some risks to satisfy my needs/wants/addictions because that is the life i have decided to lead, one in which i accept the consequences for the choices i make? who the fuck knows? as i started this post with a book i just finished i will end it with a book that i am in the middle of, liking’s the amputated memory, because the quote is one i love and believe and it is quite apropos: happiness comes from the ability each of us has to come up with convincing responses to our own questions.

'c' is for cookie

unless it's for hep c
'c' is for cookie
unless it's for hep c
'c' is for cookie
unless it's for hep c
i'd rather have a cookie than hep c

but i don't.

thank you president's day

sunday i made my way to the east side club and had an awesome time. i got a room on the bottom floor and began with my usual walk around tour to see what was going on and to get the lay of the land. i didn’t get far. this hot guy was walking down the hall towards me and we started making out. we went to my room and had fucking fun. he was a little rough and his pits smelled and i loved it…the worst part was that i was certain that the night would only go downhill from there.

for a while that was how it seemed, but i handled it well. i have less patience with bottoms who just want to get fucked and take a load without any personal interaction. i know there is always some interaction, but there are bottoms who just want me to stick my dick up their ass and that’s it. i’m less and less interested in that. i want someone who can make me feel like they are there with me, at least for that moment. they can spit in my face or cuddle and caress, but if i am posed and slid back upon with no further interaction than that i not inclined to bother with them for long, if at all. i think this comes from my becoming more comfortable with who i am and what i want. so comfortable that i am actually willing to act on these feelings or express them to guys when i am in such a situation. there were two guys like this who i fucked for a bit and then told i needed a break; i suppose that is not exactly speaking my mind, but it’s not accepting an unfulfilling situation either, or at least not accepting it for very long (so maybe i’m not that comfortable, but i’m getting there).

then a solid guy came to my room with a not very long but very thick dick. i was uncertain as to whether i’d be able to take it or not, and when he put on a condom i was even more unsure. but he was a hot guy with a really fat dick and i try not to back down from a challenge, even if it is wrapped up in rubber. he knew how to dominate and called me a tramp and a slut and told me to look at him as he pounded my ass. that was hot, locking eyes with him as he rammed into me hard; usually my eyes are closed and head back. he told me he could go all night, and i’m sure he could have, but after what had to have been at least 30 minutes and was probably more i told him i needed a break. i didn’t want to (because it felt so good and because i don’t like to be the one to end a hot time) and kept delaying my cry of ‘uncle,’ but ultimately i did need to stop or wussed out if you want to see it another way. i told him that i’d be heading home and he expressed doubt, calling me on being a slut. i had every intention of leaving because my ass was sore as hell, but as i was drying off after my clean up shower a guy was watching from outside the bathroom area and cruising me heavily. what’s a slut to do? he came back to my room and asked for a condom. the last guy had used the last one and i was not pleased with meeting yet another responsible and safe guy, but he was nice, sexy and an excellent kisser. i hesitated as he asked if i’d wait while he went to get a condom, he told me if he fucked bare he’d be up my ass already. how could i say no? he was back in no time and it was well worth it. he came while fucking me and after he left i retrieved the condom from the garbage and got a little taste. i considered asking for it as soon as he took it off, but discretion and fear of a disgusted look kept me waiting.

now my ass was open and hungry for more and as i lay there the first guy walked by and saw that i was the slut who wouldn’t go home that he thought i was. he didn’t stop in for a second time though. at last a guy came in who had no interest in using a condom. he was hot and we fucked and flipped back and forth. neither one of us came, but had a great time. i knew it was time to go after that. three hot fucks in a row is not something i’m inclined to try to top…at least not that day.

president’s day i went to my therapist early in the day and then had dinner over a friend’s. i needed to go to the west side club afterwards to renew my membership; they had taken my card away the night before because it had expired, and evidently the prospect of walking around the city without a card i only use a couple times a month was too much to bear. i claimed that i might just stop by to renew and then go home because i was tired and had to work the next day. i can’t remember how honest i thought i was being when i said that, but you would think i would know better by now. my friend did and asked who was i kidding? evidently myself.

i renewed my card and, as expected, there wasn’t much question at all about whether i would get a room or not. i met the hot hispanic guy i had fucked the last time i was there and fucked him again. i gave him my number again and he subsequently called, although i haven’t called back to hook up yet. i also met a guy who knew me from bnskin which was cool. i was in my usual position which consists of me lying on the bed jerking my cock with my legs somewhat spread open. i try to have it both ways jerking my cock which tends to be what people notice, especially at the west side where so many have been partying and don’t get as hard as others might want, while at the same time spreading my legs so that there is at least some message going out that i’d like a nice stiff cock up my ass. he had a truly sweet ass, very open, i loved playing with it and watching it stay open a bit after i pulled my fingers out. i was fucking and rimming him for a while but confessed that i probably would not cum and he went off in hopes of finding a load. another guy or two may have stopped in, but it is the last guy of the night that this is all about.

he came in and turned down the light, i assumed he had been partying because while i usually like the light bright so people can see what i have to offer, superficially at least, many guys who have been partying prefer the lights low. he started out fucking me, he slid in bare and it was just what i needed, maybe he hadn’t been partying because there was no problem with him keeping his dick hard. then we flipped and i started fucking him. he had a nice ass, but after a short time i noticed an unmistakable smell. in the past i would have called a time out and said ‘thanks, but that’s it for me’ (or something much less generous), but recently i had been getting turned on thinking about scat (hadn’t done anything except talk to guys, cruise some scat sites and maybe play with my own while cleaning out on occasion), so i figured what the hell and kept fucking him. the smell grew steadily stronger although in the dim light it didn’t look like his ass was that dirty. he apologized for being a little dirty and i told him that it was cool. we flipped and he started fucking me again. i was taking him doggy-style and when i reached down to jerk my cock any uncertainty about how dirty his ass was was cleared up immediately. my cock was smeared and covered in shit. this was the moment of truth: i had the option of and considered freaking out and putting an end to our encounter (it’s one thing smelling someone’s shit while you are fucking him, it is another thing entirely grabbing your cock and finding it covered in shit), but i didn’t freak out, i made a conscious decision to say what the fuck, and i went with it. we flipped again and i knew that i was slipping my cock into an ass full of shit, and i really got off on it. the smell in the room must have been truly intense, but i had become used to it by that point. i would fuck him for a bit and then pull out and jerk my shitty cock and lean down towards his ass. i wanted to lick it, i wanted to eat it. if he had given any encouragement in that direction i’m pretty sure i would have. he didn’t though and i was afraid that if i did he would freak or express some disgust and i knew i couldn’t take that. it was really hot though and after a couple cycles of my jerking my cock while getting my face close to his ass and then going back to fucking him i was ready to cum. at that moment he tells me not to cum in his ass, i did pull out, but probably not as quickly as i should have and i know i shot a little inside of him, but most of it went outside. i did not mention this transgression against his request not to cum inside of him; it didn’t even occur to me that i should have mentioned it until now. he apologized for the mess and i told him again not to worry about it.

he left and i tried to figure out how to get to the shower without anyone seeing how covered in shit i was although it was just my cock and right hand for the most part. i wound up wrapping my towel loosely around myself while holding it up with my hand on the inside of the towel, awkward, but i felt it was the best way to go. i got to the back shower, no one was there and i began to clean up. it took a lot longer than i thought it would; shit, it seems, is rather sticky and takes some scrubbing to get off. a guy came in while i was cleaning up and i am sure he saw how dirty i was looking at me with disgust. i’m not really sure, but at the time i was so paranoid that there was no chance of him not noticing it in my mind. once cleaned off i went back to the room. the sheets and towels were a mess, and i wasn’t sure what to do. could i just leave the room like that? would they check who had been in that room and revoke my just renewed membership for excessive messiness? serendipitously there was an extra set of sheets left on the shelf above the clothes hooks so i decided after more debate than was probably necessary that i would change the sheets. i wrapped the dirty sheets and towels in a clean looking ball dropped them in the laundry bin on the way out and left a nice tip on my way out.

i felt sick to my stomach and somewhat disgusted as i walked out. what the fuck had i just done? i was hungry, but wasn’t sure if i could keep anything down. i walked down to the starbuck’s on union square and had some green tea, yoghurt and banana loaf; that seemed to be as stomach calming as i was likely to get after 1 in the morning. i just sat and ate, thinking about what i had just done, i was a bit freaked out. there was a guy i knew from scatboi who i desperately wanted to talk with, but when i got home he wasn’t online so i just went to bed somewhat troubled and thoroughly exhausted by an eventful weekend.

fuck you valentine's day

valentine’s day really didn’t have a chance i suppose. i opted to wear black and maybe that is where i went wrong. i doubt red would have made a difference though. i still had my meeting downtown, which meant i still would have had to get off at the borough hall stop. that is where i broke up with my ex. there are those who plan their entrances and exits from trains with precision and those who just get on and off with no advance planning. this advance planning means that you will get on a particular car and sit by a particular door so that as soon as you exit the train you are in front of the stairs that lead you outside or to the next train. i am one of these advance planners, my ex was not (though that is not particularly important it is something i remember with a smile as i write about this). so on valentine’s day i made sure i got on the front of the train so that i would detrain right in front of the tunnel that would lead me to the stairs that would lead me to the exit that was closest to the library where the meeting was being held. as the train slowed for its arrival at the station i remembered that this is the spot i had left my ex for the last time…we had been talking outside and i broke up with him again, this time with no ambiguity, i left him and ran down the station stairs and, conveniently for me, the train pulled up opened its doors and closed them in time to leave him standing sadly on the platform in his bright blue shirt. as i remembered this and as i made my way out to the street i began to cry. i kept walking and do not know if anyone noticed i was crying; my face tends to crumple up when i cry, but i was bundled up for the ice storm so who knows. i was concerned that someone who might be going to the same meeting might see me and ask what was wrong. the storm was terrible and ice drove straight into my face as i walked to the library and i stopped my sobbing and concentrated on keeping my head down and not falling. i think about my ex a lot…it was nice having someone love me in that relationship way, even if when it was a fucked up relationship. i cried because i miss that love and also because i feel bad, and as usual focus on that feeling bad, for leaving him the way i did, sad on the subway platform, but also for ending the relationship in a lousy and dishonest way.

thursday was much better. i had gotten up ridiculously early and went online. usually i am not looking that early and just go online to browse or force of habit, but if anyone asks i am up for it if it is early enough, though at that hour most guys are partying or have been and are looking for more. this young guy messaged me and even though i wasn’t partying he still wanted to hook up. i always worry about younger guys flaking out and once lost out on getting well fucked because i didn’t want to bother cleaning out as i was certain he would end up not showing up (he did and we still had an awesome time). he sounded like he was serious so i got my ass moving. i figured it would be faster to get a car service than to take a bus out to bushwick, not sure if that was true or not considering how long i had to wait for the car. the wait was delicious though, knowing that everyone else was hurrying to their day of drudgery at work and i was going out for some early morning sex with some club kid. he was cute and had some awesome ink, especially on his chest and head, but he wasn’t that into kissing. he lowered his sweats and out popped his cock; i sucked him and then he fucked me, still with his sweats on, which i wasn’t a big fan of, and he came rather quickly and with no warning. after i sucked his dick some more i told him i wanted to eat his ass; that finally got his pants off and he was on his back on the floor and i went down and rimmed his ass, really nice, a little musky, but not dirty. i had him nice and wet and slowly eased my cock in. he had a tight sweet ass and with some extra lube i was in heaven. now he was into kissing, and we made out as i plowed his ass. i was getting close and i figured, he didn’t tell me when he was coming so i am not going to say anything either, i was breathing heavier and giving all the signs that i was going to cum soon. he was squirming around or maybe it was my imagination, i figured if he wants me to stop he will say something. he didn’t and i came buckets up his ass, it was so fucking needed. he asked if i came and i told him i had and kept on fucking him. he kept squirming which was hot, but didn’t tell me to stop and i got hard again. he wanted to fuck me again so i pulled out, a little dirty, but nothing a towel couldn’t wipe off and went down on all fours. he slipped into my ass and shot another load. a little small talk while i cleaned up (somewhat), dressed and then left to go home and get ready for work. this time i took the subway, i was in no rush now. it was wonderful riding the train and thinking about the sex i had just had while everyone else, i assumed, had not. maybe it was the imagining of doing something normally not done (an early morning hook-up) or that i was just so happy i had fun and still had the day ahead of me to enjoy, even though i was going to work. i rode home, got a seat so i could read my book and stopped every now and then to think about how good life can be on a beautiful winter morning after a storm.

friday i went to a concert at the mercury lounge. this was the first time i had been to the lower east side since the closing of el mirage. i went with a straight friend so i felt i couldn’t ask that we go pay my respects at the dept of health notice plastered door. it’s a shame that a city with so many hot and fun guys is so hung up on keeping them from fooling around with each other. on my vacation i had been to houston, san antonio and new orleans and those cities, having lots of hot and fun guys too, have no problem letting them fuck around with each other in baths, clubs, bookstores and the backrooms of bars. the bands that night were good for one reason or another. the lead singer for the xyz affair was fucking hot, music wasn’t so great as far as i was concerned, but i enjoyed watching him sing in his v-neck t-shirt. the teeth rocked and were my favorite band of the night. the high strung were good too, but i really enjoyed the bass player who was grinning a mile and i imagined he must have taken something to bring this huge smile to his face. he still rocked though and was a great showman, but i couldn’t get over his smile and his cool, groovy ‘thank you all’ comments. truly a fun night, and no sex, what?

not to worry, saturday i worked, but after some dawdling over cleaning my ass i went to visit a buddy in jersey city who is lots of fun. he’s got a beautiful cock and loves to kiss. he always has some piss for me and along with real good fucking, sweaty armpits and some rough, but not too rough, nipple and ball play we have a great time. i didn’t cum though. he joked that i wasn’t leaving until i came, but i am sure there was some truth behind it. i don’t know why, but i don’t always cum when i am with a guy. i got to thinking about the selfishness of that, but he told me to stop worrying about it and i did. it is something that deserves looking into, but just not at that time, and not now either. afterward, i was beat so i took the path back to the city, and went straight home not veering off to a bookstore or bath. that is a good thing because sometimes i will continue with my sexual escapades even though i am completely exhausted. i will revive and rally once i am caught up in the sexual tide, but it is far better to just go home, get some sleep and see what tomorrow has in store for the well rested slut.