I thought I'd recognized that penis from somewhere!
For reasons that I cannot explain, I've been avoiding writing this. Maybe it's
because the memory is so bleak it
invokes an image of me dropping my heart like a rock into a dark dry well.
(insert whistling sound, then a "plop" on dry stone. )
So earlier today I was sitting there at work and I could hear the radio on in the the back
production area of Miller's. The song that I'd heard was one of those cheesy 80's
"soft rock hits" about a casual encounter with a long lost love on New
Year's Eve. A silly sappy song reminding me of early adolescence when I was
still a dreamy virgin who had no freaking idea what was going on and what I
was doing. (As opposed to the same freak I am now, only I am not young and
not a virgin.)This song is often played these days during the holiday season
due to it's reference to New Years. So then all of a sudden I'm being faced with a ghost from
Christmas past, a 3 year old imp from 2002. One of the many Christmases that
I was insane. From Nov. 21 through Dec. 20 of that year I was hell bent on
making a series of mere booty calls into a relationship based on a 14 year old sexual
fantasy come true!
Saturday eve. I had the pleasure of going to a CD release party for a one
man band, Toof, quite an entertaining amusing and dare I add, attractive
Austin musician,since he himself is probably reading this blog along with
the rest of you, ( Hi there! Thanks for reading this!)The show was held at
End of an Ear, a CD and record store at 2209 S.1st St. right next door to
what used to be Alternate Current Artspace and the Escaptist Bookstore, the very
epicenter of my performance art glory days. (However that is a whole other blog.) Lately I've been attending several in-store shows there, and whenever I have, I'd always taken a looksie through the bins to see if I'd spot a bargain. At any rate, Saturday evening I happened to come across a home-burnt looking CD, by a former Austin musician, "Cz." Home recorded, it's full color jewelcase cover printed on copy paper likely printed from an ordinary PC. The image was a photo of Cz and a woman, both of them nude, the head of Cz's penis was in the shadows, but I could still see it. For how could I forget the penis of a former lover from only 3 years ago? How could I forget the passion, the secret trysts (though, unbeknownst to me, EVERYONE in my scene knew he and I were... well you know.)
I stood there in that record store looking at that CD, then put it away quickly. I had a bottle in my hands, the drink was Ace Pear Cider, ironically the very same drink we shared when we met for the first time we'd gotten together. I had to drink something. I was so nervous, having crushed on him or 14 years, but for all of those years, he'd been off limits, belonging to a friend of mine and then in mid-'02 they were on the verge of divorce and he was at the height of a weird drug addiction. A drug I too would partake of and nearly lapse into a coma from one night. It was/is an evil evil drug, but because I'd fallen for him all over agin that Christmas, I'd wanted to travel on the same wavelegnth as he.
"Knockin' me out with those American thighs...!"
Why is it always that when men are at the end of their ropes, that's when they suddenly feel attracted to me and want to be with me? It happens all the time, twenty years ago, ten years ago, and seemingly to this very day. It was happening with another very young man hitting his rock bottom last year- August '04, and that's what started the.... well that's a subject I've mentioned before in subtle ways all this past year, and I'm not going into that again! I'll spare you all. Besides this blog is about Cz, not about my N.S. saga!
Any. Way.
Cz was in a crisis, and he was being forced to relocate himself to his parents' home out west so he could pay off old credit card bills, finish his college education, get a better job and most of all, kick it, the drug habits and get help dealing with his other mental health issues. He was scheduled to leave Austin on Dec. 20 three years ago as of tomorrow, and so he spent his remaining days here fucking me in the privacy of my own home whenever he had the chance to get away. We did so many perverse things that we'd never tried on any of our other partners,the many men I'd fucked and his wife. I was merely the 3rd woman he'd ever been with his entire life of 35 years and he was probably the 100th man I'd been with in my 38. I needed his sex, as twisted as it was. It was the ending of a nearly 6 year long dry spell (dry but for a single night in 2000 when I hoping for sex,gave a date head.) A dry spell much like the one I'm in now, nothing- not even a hint or a possibility. As they say nowadays, I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way.
Look I was in love! In lust! I trusted him to choke me during sex, and not to kill me even though his drug nearly snuffed out my breath. I let him photograph my fat body nude and sucking on him, his fingers inside me (is this embarassing you dear readers?) We sent each other steamy emails filled with details of the depravity we would inflict upon one another and how we masturbated over our words to each other. He wrote of an image he had come into his head when he saw the look in my eyes in one of those sex pictures.
He'd felt like a hunter on a snowy mountaintop naked with a burning red cock. Standing over a doe that he'd just killed with his bare hands. And as the life drifted out of the doe's body, the hunter jacked off fast and furious spurting his jism all over her dying face!
And still I grieved over my loss when Cz left. Again as they say, it was the best of times and the worst of times, for during that fall I'd auditioned for and been chosen to appear as the guest artist to perform in a major holiday production at The Vortex Theater, during the night of their December 19, 2002 performance. Three years ago tonight and all the while it was a major step for me since I had not been in any kind of stage production in many many years. As I stood there on the Vortex stage delivering my lines in character, I tried my best to hide the sound of the pieces of my broken heart shifting as the glue holding them together dried.
because the memory is so bleak it
invokes an image of me dropping my heart like a rock into a dark dry well.
(insert whistling sound, then a "plop" on dry stone. )
So earlier today I was sitting there at work and I could hear the radio on in the the back
production area of Miller's. The song that I'd heard was one of those cheesy 80's
"soft rock hits" about a casual encounter with a long lost love on New
Year's Eve. A silly sappy song reminding me of early adolescence when I was
still a dreamy virgin who had no freaking idea what was going on and what I
was doing. (As opposed to the same freak I am now, only I am not young and
not a virgin.)This song is often played these days during the holiday season
due to it's reference to New Years. So then all of a sudden I'm being faced with a ghost from
Christmas past, a 3 year old imp from 2002. One of the many Christmases that
I was insane. From Nov. 21 through Dec. 20 of that year I was hell bent on
making a series of mere booty calls into a relationship based on a 14 year old sexual
fantasy come true!
Saturday eve. I had the pleasure of going to a CD release party for a one
man band, Toof, quite an entertaining amusing and dare I add, attractive
Austin musician,since he himself is probably reading this blog along with
the rest of you, ( Hi there! Thanks for reading this!)The show was held at
End of an Ear, a CD and record store at 2209 S.1st St. right next door to
what used to be Alternate Current Artspace and the Escaptist Bookstore, the very
epicenter of my performance art glory days. (However that is a whole other blog.) Lately I've been attending several in-store shows there, and whenever I have, I'd always taken a looksie through the bins to see if I'd spot a bargain. At any rate, Saturday evening I happened to come across a home-burnt looking CD, by a former Austin musician, "Cz." Home recorded, it's full color jewelcase cover printed on copy paper likely printed from an ordinary PC. The image was a photo of Cz and a woman, both of them nude, the head of Cz's penis was in the shadows, but I could still see it. For how could I forget the penis of a former lover from only 3 years ago? How could I forget the passion, the secret trysts (though, unbeknownst to me, EVERYONE in my scene knew he and I were... well you know.)
I stood there in that record store looking at that CD, then put it away quickly. I had a bottle in my hands, the drink was Ace Pear Cider, ironically the very same drink we shared when we met for the first time we'd gotten together. I had to drink something. I was so nervous, having crushed on him or 14 years, but for all of those years, he'd been off limits, belonging to a friend of mine and then in mid-'02 they were on the verge of divorce and he was at the height of a weird drug addiction. A drug I too would partake of and nearly lapse into a coma from one night. It was/is an evil evil drug, but because I'd fallen for him all over agin that Christmas, I'd wanted to travel on the same wavelegnth as he.
"Knockin' me out with those American thighs...!"
Why is it always that when men are at the end of their ropes, that's when they suddenly feel attracted to me and want to be with me? It happens all the time, twenty years ago, ten years ago, and seemingly to this very day. It was happening with another very young man hitting his rock bottom last year- August '04, and that's what started the.... well that's a subject I've mentioned before in subtle ways all this past year, and I'm not going into that again! I'll spare you all. Besides this blog is about Cz, not about my N.S. saga!
Any. Way.
Cz was in a crisis, and he was being forced to relocate himself to his parents' home out west so he could pay off old credit card bills, finish his college education, get a better job and most of all, kick it, the drug habits and get help dealing with his other mental health issues. He was scheduled to leave Austin on Dec. 20 three years ago as of tomorrow, and so he spent his remaining days here fucking me in the privacy of my own home whenever he had the chance to get away. We did so many perverse things that we'd never tried on any of our other partners,the many men I'd fucked and his wife. I was merely the 3rd woman he'd ever been with his entire life of 35 years and he was probably the 100th man I'd been with in my 38. I needed his sex, as twisted as it was. It was the ending of a nearly 6 year long dry spell (dry but for a single night in 2000 when I hoping for sex,gave a date head.) A dry spell much like the one I'm in now, nothing- not even a hint or a possibility. As they say nowadays, I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way.
Look I was in love! In lust! I trusted him to choke me during sex, and not to kill me even though his drug nearly snuffed out my breath. I let him photograph my fat body nude and sucking on him, his fingers inside me (is this embarassing you dear readers?) We sent each other steamy emails filled with details of the depravity we would inflict upon one another and how we masturbated over our words to each other. He wrote of an image he had come into his head when he saw the look in my eyes in one of those sex pictures.
He'd felt like a hunter on a snowy mountaintop naked with a burning red cock. Standing over a doe that he'd just killed with his bare hands. And as the life drifted out of the doe's body, the hunter jacked off fast and furious spurting his jism all over her dying face!
And still I grieved over my loss when Cz left. Again as they say, it was the best of times and the worst of times, for during that fall I'd auditioned for and been chosen to appear as the guest artist to perform in a major holiday production at The Vortex Theater, during the night of their December 19, 2002 performance. Three years ago tonight and all the while it was a major step for me since I had not been in any kind of stage production in many many years. As I stood there on the Vortex stage delivering my lines in character, I tried my best to hide the sound of the pieces of my broken heart shifting as the glue holding them together dried.