B.O.Y.S.
It’s bad enough I find meeting new boys to be a violation, but actually writing about them is like asking me to slice off my nipples with a razor blade these days. The one question that really needs to be answered is, why do I keep doing things I know will not make me happy?
I don’t understand why sex is such an overpowering desire in the male mind. Or, is it just my own personal downfall?
Last week I was chatting with this one Latin guy all day and very randomly, decided to meet him for dinner after work Tuesday... after only talking to him for a whole of two hours. (Meanwhile, there are two guys I’ve been chatting with for weeks I keep saying I’ll get together with and never do.) Latin guy turns out to be fun though, and for a 37-year-old looked damn good. I suppose it’s the blood of his people that keeps his skin looking 26. The bastard.
I had actually seen him out before at Melrose. He is doing the Internet thing for the first time, and his naivety shows. He just recently broke up with someone (I think after two years) and he thought when he told me he was just "tired of the bar scene" I wouldn’t be smart enough to figure out it meant his ex goes to the bars and he doesn’t want to see him. Duh.
We got along well, and I felt cautionary but actually wanted to see him again as it didn’t seem fast sex was going to happen (which was good). I am not much for judging people on masculinity or femininity. I think skinny queens can be the cutest things something. But, for some reason, he was slightly effeminate and it... not bugged me.. just... I dunno.. stuck out in my mind. I didn’t mean for it to. It just did.
I called him Friday after another brief fiasco for an impromptu bite to eat, but he was busy and immediately threw the ball back in my court that I should "definitely" call him again over the weekend if I wanted to hang out. This bugged me. Why? I dunno... why couldn’t we just talk later depending on if either of us wanted to hang out? Why is the choice all mine?
But, alas, the choice was all mine and I decided I didn’t want to deal with the choice so I didn’t call back.
Friday after getting home from my parents I foolishly found myself on Gay.com so obviously searching for some attention because I seemed to have a slight case of that tragic illness, Loneliness, all weekend. It managed to get me in trouble with this guy who appeared cute in his pictures, who turned out to be not so cute in person.
There is something really dirty and wrong with how easily two strangers can meet and suddenly be messing around. The details are too tedious but we met. If he was athletic like his ad said he was, then I am right below Andy Roddick and David Beckham on the Adonis ladder of fitness. If his member was "Large" then I’ll be damned that I am hung like a Brontosaurus.
Why I got myself into it, I cannot find an excuse for. Thank god it didn’t go far before I think he realized Mr Winky was just not interested... and being the bigger of the two brains I had Friday, he was calling all the shots. The guy was so nasty his elbows were chapped and cracked like the calluses on my heels after I was running for two weeks. It truly was a punishment for my stupidity in thinking I could hook-up offline and be happy. No wonder I only do it once every several months.
Of course, I didn’t get a big enough clue sex wasn’t the key this weekend because this kid I know who’s been away at school in Kansas was in town for break and IMed me wanting to get together. I had actually really liked spending time with him when we met a year ago and was all for it. But, I would have been a fool to think dinner and hanging out would involve any food and the hanging part referred to dangling, naked appendages.
Really cool guy and smart as hell, but it was just sex all the same and made me no more happy than I was before. In fact, I began to find the entire concept of sex, gay or otherwise to be the goofiest thing. If God’s up there looking down he had to wonder what the hell human beings were thinking when I’ve got my finger up this kid’s ass. I was doing it and asking myself that same question. When did the ass come into play as a source of sexual pleasure? Who thought of this??
All in all not to pleased with myself in any of these endeavors and it seems that sex in general is becoming an impossibility for me because I get so immediately bored with it that I just don’t even sustain my erection most of the time. Come to think of it, the Mohawk Boy is one of the few people I have been with as of late I can keep it up for. I don’t feel my inability is any reflection of my manhood... I am just so terribly bored with the whole thing.
I can’t have anonymous sex. I don’t want to date. What is there left to do then? Zero human contact, as appealing as it sounds in theory, seems to get me in trouble all the same. It’s no doubt I am mentally fucked up. That’s not in debate either. I’m not addicted to sex, it’s just something to do when I am bored, like drinking cans of pop. I hate myself for doing it but I am hooked on the taste.
I am not closing out the year with too many fine moments.
I don’t understand why sex is such an overpowering desire in the male mind. Or, is it just my own personal downfall?
Last week I was chatting with this one Latin guy all day and very randomly, decided to meet him for dinner after work Tuesday... after only talking to him for a whole of two hours. (Meanwhile, there are two guys I’ve been chatting with for weeks I keep saying I’ll get together with and never do.) Latin guy turns out to be fun though, and for a 37-year-old looked damn good. I suppose it’s the blood of his people that keeps his skin looking 26. The bastard.
I had actually seen him out before at Melrose. He is doing the Internet thing for the first time, and his naivety shows. He just recently broke up with someone (I think after two years) and he thought when he told me he was just "tired of the bar scene" I wouldn’t be smart enough to figure out it meant his ex goes to the bars and he doesn’t want to see him. Duh.
We got along well, and I felt cautionary but actually wanted to see him again as it didn’t seem fast sex was going to happen (which was good). I am not much for judging people on masculinity or femininity. I think skinny queens can be the cutest things something. But, for some reason, he was slightly effeminate and it... not bugged me.. just... I dunno.. stuck out in my mind. I didn’t mean for it to. It just did.
I called him Friday after another brief fiasco for an impromptu bite to eat, but he was busy and immediately threw the ball back in my court that I should "definitely" call him again over the weekend if I wanted to hang out. This bugged me. Why? I dunno... why couldn’t we just talk later depending on if either of us wanted to hang out? Why is the choice all mine?
But, alas, the choice was all mine and I decided I didn’t want to deal with the choice so I didn’t call back.
Friday after getting home from my parents I foolishly found myself on Gay.com so obviously searching for some attention because I seemed to have a slight case of that tragic illness, Loneliness, all weekend. It managed to get me in trouble with this guy who appeared cute in his pictures, who turned out to be not so cute in person.
There is something really dirty and wrong with how easily two strangers can meet and suddenly be messing around. The details are too tedious but we met. If he was athletic like his ad said he was, then I am right below Andy Roddick and David Beckham on the Adonis ladder of fitness. If his member was "Large" then I’ll be damned that I am hung like a Brontosaurus.
Why I got myself into it, I cannot find an excuse for. Thank god it didn’t go far before I think he realized Mr Winky was just not interested... and being the bigger of the two brains I had Friday, he was calling all the shots. The guy was so nasty his elbows were chapped and cracked like the calluses on my heels after I was running for two weeks. It truly was a punishment for my stupidity in thinking I could hook-up offline and be happy. No wonder I only do it once every several months.
Of course, I didn’t get a big enough clue sex wasn’t the key this weekend because this kid I know who’s been away at school in Kansas was in town for break and IMed me wanting to get together. I had actually really liked spending time with him when we met a year ago and was all for it. But, I would have been a fool to think dinner and hanging out would involve any food and the hanging part referred to dangling, naked appendages.
Really cool guy and smart as hell, but it was just sex all the same and made me no more happy than I was before. In fact, I began to find the entire concept of sex, gay or otherwise to be the goofiest thing. If God’s up there looking down he had to wonder what the hell human beings were thinking when I’ve got my finger up this kid’s ass. I was doing it and asking myself that same question. When did the ass come into play as a source of sexual pleasure? Who thought of this??
All in all not to pleased with myself in any of these endeavors and it seems that sex in general is becoming an impossibility for me because I get so immediately bored with it that I just don’t even sustain my erection most of the time. Come to think of it, the Mohawk Boy is one of the few people I have been with as of late I can keep it up for. I don’t feel my inability is any reflection of my manhood... I am just so terribly bored with the whole thing.
I can’t have anonymous sex. I don’t want to date. What is there left to do then? Zero human contact, as appealing as it sounds in theory, seems to get me in trouble all the same. It’s no doubt I am mentally fucked up. That’s not in debate either. I’m not addicted to sex, it’s just something to do when I am bored, like drinking cans of pop. I hate myself for doing it but I am hooked on the taste.
I am not closing out the year with too many fine moments.