Thursday, Apr. 18, 2002 - 12:00 p.m.
Multi Lingua

Art Appreciation

Did I mention Cyrus is really into art?

Saturday night we were sitting here in my living room. I’m not sure what we were doing. Kissing would be a good guess. (Have I told you about his lips? Oh my god…)

Anyway, out of the blue, he says “I bet I know which panel’s your favorite on that Haring print.”

“Huh?”

“That one,” Cyrus said, pointing.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because, it looks like the yellow guy’s about to—”

“Rim the orange guy!” I exclaimed, laughing. “Geez, you’re a real perv to see that. Keith would turn over in his grave if he heard you talking like that.”

Yeah right.

Thanks to Cyrus, I see the picture in a whole new light eh?

What’s more, I’ve got a new position to try for one of my favorite activities.

Time to add a few more tricep and bicep exercises to my work-out regimen…

Sex Talk

Stuff happened between Cyrus and I Saturday night that’s too personal to write about here.

I just want to make a general comment about what I am learning anew with this loveable young man.

When you really talk about sex with the person you’re having it with, when two people put words to what’s happening, what you end up talking about is so much more than sex. When you’re starting to care about each other, sex is about so much more than itself.

I love that kind of conversation. Not only because of the erotic enhancement—oi!—but also because so much more can then unfold on all kinds of levels.

The words that make us squirm also stretch us.

Wanton Regard

So what happened to Queerscribe the slut?

He’s content, for the most part, to watch. He hasn’t stopped ogling or fantasizing promiscuously. It’s somewhat muted, this inner skankiness, but it’s definitely there.

Cyrus and I have talked about all this in depth. Not for a while, though, and we need to keep that dialogue going. Of anyone I’ve ever become involved with, he knows the most about my history, my inclinations. Nothing has changed for me since our last talk. I shared my view, then, that monogamy is important—crucial—at the beginning of a committed romantic relationship and that—in view of my recent and longer term history—I do not want to jump the gun by making such a commitment prematurely. In other words, I am not sleeping with anybody else right now, but I am not ready to say that I won’t have sex with other guys, that I won’t visit the bathhouse or whatever. I don’t need to have that kind of quickie sex right now, but it’s too soon for me to make a definitive pronouncement.

For right now, I am not looking for sex that doesn’t involve Cyrus. That feels new, definitely interesting, and emotionally right. But I know my past. I’m taking this slow. We both are.

The funny thing is that, since meeting and writing about Cyrus, I’ve noticed myself shying away from writing out any sort of sexual thoughts or observations that don’t involve him. This despite sharing many of them directly with Cyrus. Strangely, I seem to have projected this laughably rigid ‘Thou shalt be monogamous in word and deed!’ voice onto you readers. Silly.

So I intend to write more, again, about the titillatingly interesting things I see, who and what gets my dick hard and makes me think about stuff.

The only ground rule—and Cyrus and I have agreed to this—is that if I do have sex with someone else, he will hear about it from me directly before I write about it here. Good lord, that’s only fair, part of a larger consensus that we not use our online journals as a primary mode of communicating important stuff to each other about the relationship.

It’s refreshing not to feel hurried. It must mean something.