Wednesday, Jan. 14, 2004 - 10:14 p.m.
Out With The Old?
January 1, 2004The final day of 2003 was a fittingly bizarre conglomeration of themes and emotions. Jeepers.
It was snowing heavily and by the time I got into work for 9 am it was a storm. I got an email back from Mark the hunky 38 year old white guy off gay.com, nixing my suggestion of meeting out in public over the next few days--he said he didn't like meeting 'perfect strangers' out in public, it felt too weird, but if I didn't want to entertain I could come to his place once his parents leave town. I played on Friendster.com, found Scott listed there, by complete accident, and excitedly emailed him. Hardly anyone was in on the third floor, and by about 10:45 am Phil sent us all home. Alan and I left together; just before, we were in the men's room together and in the mirror I watched him walk away from the urinal before fully doing up his pants, checked out his undies.
So I called Joey--who was on his way downtown on the subway--and we met at the subway station, and we shopped a bit at the Bay (didn't buy anything) and then went for lunch to the Greek place we usually go to. I was planning to go work out at the gym, as it was only open till 2 pm, but Joey and I didn't finish our lunch-time visit until about 1:20 pm so I didn't go. Joey talked a lot about his sex life with D., their relationship: we had a great talk. Instead I went to the gay bookstore and they were having a 20% off sale. I got a cute birthday card for Alex (on the outside, 'I'll have you know, I only send birthday cards to fabulous, witty, beautiful people' and on the inside 'Merry Christmas!' - ) and The Complete Book of Abs and a $36 (before the discount) jockstrap. $60 in total.
I was walking home when this cute young black guy stopped me and asked if he could bum a cigarette. Smilingly, I gave him one. He had a beautiful smile, and huge feminine-looking eyes. As he walked away, we checked each other out. Several times. With each time I turned around that I caught him looking back and grinning at me, I got more and more excited. We got about half a block apart before we both stopped, started walking back toward each other.
More grinning. His name was Davin. 23. Short, wiry build. Half-Carribeaan, half-Native. Not working currently, said he'd moved here recently, was starting a job at the *** in January. I gave him my card, said he should call me sometime. "Or maybe you're looking for fun right now," I added, mischievously. Davin grinned embarassedly, his eyes telling me I'd probably hit the nail on the head. We stood there in the falling snow, smiling. My dick was hard.
"Well I gotta go home and dry off," Davin said. "Would it be pushing it to call you in about an hour?"
I said sure. Raced home, so excited and open. I was all set to have sex with him in an hour, provided that he could 'entertain'. I vowed not to make an exception to my 'no strangers in my apartment' rule. Unless, of course, we went for coffee first and I got a definite sense that he was okay. But I'd have much preferred to be invited to his place. Came home and chatted exuberantly online, especially with Lorraine. Expecting Davin (whose name I'd promptly forgotten) to call around 3.
I'd all but given up on him when my door buzzer went at 3:30 pm. It was Davin. "Um, who is this?" I said, disoriented. "Um, you gave me your card with your address on it about an hour ago," he said through the intercom. "Sorry I'm late."
I buzzed him up. Feeling nervous and excited. Realized that I'd given him the version of my card that has my full address rather than the one that shows only my email and phone number. It would probably be all right. Wouldn't it? I quickly typed to Lorraine that my date had shown up, rather than called. Then I let him in. He looked so cute and smiley. Brought him into the living room and then told him, in a friendly tone, that I'd expected him to call, not just show up. That I'd had a bad experience six months ago, blah blah. Davin apologized. I said it was okay, but also that I was a little nervous having him in my apartment. He said nothing. I kept talking, awkwardly, asked him if it would be okay if I 'introduced' him to my girlfriend Lorraine on the cam. He looked like he thought my request was quite unusual--which, of course, it was--but agreed. I made the introductions. Davin waved at Lorraine, wished her a Happy New Year. I told her everything was fine. Davin and I sat back down on the living room couch.
Asked him more about himself. His effeminate manner--especially his high-pitched squealing laugh--reminded me of Dick back in Toronto. (Not a turn-on.) But I was also very much attracted to him. Davin told me he'd previously worked as a male escort and as a stripper at the seedy hotel/gay bar in town. I didn't react well, inside myself, to this oral resume. I presumed he was a drug addict, not an honest trustworthy person, with such a background. I grew uneasier about having him in my apartment. I tried to put all that out of my mind and just go with it. Which, ultimately, is what I did, or allowed to happen--however uneasy I felt.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" he asked, teasingly. I moved over closer to him on the couch, began fondling and kissing him. We got into it. I say this a lot, but each time it feels true: I don't think I've ever had my dick sucked so expertly. Former hustlers aren't all bad. His dick was thick, shaved and cock-ringed. Stretched my throat.
"What do you want to do now," he femily inquired, straddling my lap, facing me. He leaned over and reached into his pants for something. I was sure it was a condom he was reaching for, not a knife, and for some reason this didn't make me feel nervous at all. He retrieved a tiny bottle of lubricant. "We need a condom," I said. Davin asked if I had one. I did. I put it on me. Davin asked me to lube up his ass. He stood up, I admired his taut smooth buttcheeks, leaned in and rimmed him. Delicious. Finger-lubed him up. He sat on my cock, facing me, kissing me.
For the first time since my ill-fated encounter with Diego, I was fucking a boy. He rode me like a porn star--"Fuck me, yeah!"--jerking off. He came first, got off me. I jerked off while he sucked my right nipple.
We had a smoke together. He was cigarette-less. Within about 5 minutes, awkwardly and hesitantly--almost endearingly--Davin asked me for a loan. To buy cigarettes and $4.50 to buy Chinese food. Almost endeared, but also chagrined, I said sure. That I had to buy smokes for myself so I'd buy him a pack too and give him $5 for food. We dressed and left. I grew quieter and quieter. Sexually satiated, humming along on the post-erotic level, but wishing the entire thing had not transpired. Left a five dollar bill near his clothes on the couch while he peed. Swooned at the sigh of his big dick wagging when he sauntered back into the living room.
Got to London Drugs and Davin asked if he could be a real jerk and alter his request. Instead of buying him smokes, could I give him more cash so he could get a pizza instead of Chinese food? Frowning, I said that I was planning to use Interac and had no more cash. Did he still want the smokes? Yes. I transacted the tobacco purchase, handed him his smokes and said goodbye with almost heart-breaking impersonality.
Came home and phoned Joey, then chatted with Lorraine, told them what happened. Felt odd. This had happened for a reason, shoving a potential New Year's resolution squat in my face: cute young boys don't usually stop on the street to talk to me because they're overpoweringly attracted. They usually want something. Not necessarily to murder me, but their intentions are not necessarily to be trusted. I'm not as young as I used to be, but when a pretty boy smiles, I feel twenty again. That's not what they see. That's not what they're reacting to. It's not that there aren't young men who might be legitimately interested in me. It's that I need to have it proved, now. This little romp with Davin was sexually exhilirating but psychologically disturbing. I need to act differently. I need to start now.
Played around online, chatting with various folks on my Messenger lists and also on gay.com. That's all a blur now. Had a couple hours to kill before I went to the gay AA New Year's eve thingey down the street. Wore my new black button shirt. Thought I looked fine. Knew I'd probably be uncomfortable going to this social event, and when I arrived there weren't many people there. I did feel uncomfortable. But I gently pushed myself to interact. I began to relax a little. More people showed up. Young John asked if I got the emails he'd sent me. I had not. Maybe I'd accidentally deleted them with all the spam mail, but whatever: he said one of them was a forwarded message he'd really hoped I would read before the New Year was out. That was sweet.
I browsed through the community centre program guide, and saw lots of exercise classes (Pilates, Yoga, abs-workout, etc.) that I'd like to take that are later evening or weekend classes that I could actually fit into my schedule. Resolved to do so.
The AA meeting was fantastic: I was the second person to share, and I spoke groundedly about where I was at, reviewing the year, about having accidentally had a sip of an alcoholic drink the other night, how important prayer has become to me, etc. Felt so good.
Then the potluck dinner and dance. I hung around with John and with Nelson and the boys, chatted sociably with many others. Danced a lot, often by myself. This felt liberating. No shame. Or, shame, yes, and a determination to dance anyway. That was the most important part of the evening for me, really.
As the evening wore on, I kept thinking about how I almost didn't make it. How close I came to being killed. My mood fluctuated dramatically. I thought a lot about the sexual encounter with Davin in the afternoon, how foolish it was of me, really, to just buzz him up like that. How inappropriate it was for him to just show up when we'd agreed that he would call me. How uneasy I was, him now knowing where I lived and that I was going out for the evening.
Big changes are called for.
It got closer to midnight. There was a cute young man there, a friend of someone's in AA I think, rather than a program member himself. He cruised me a lot. I smiled at him, felt how easy it would be to pick him up and see the New Year in with another cute boy. But I couldn't smile at him wholly; soon he transferred his attention to sexy blond Travis. Who could blame him. Travis is so hot. And I thought, well if I'm going to be displaced, if the only other guy this cutie shows an interest in is the hottest man in the room, there is no need to be insulted: the complete opposite, really.
But I grew more despondent. Not about the cute young man. About what a horrible year it's been, about the fact that 2004 would demarcate no radical "after" phase at all. Feeling mired, confused, called upon to make intentional alterations if I wanted to keep safe and sane in the new year. Wanting sex, knowing it was the absolute last thing I needed.
No kisses on the lips at midnight. Even though I'd danced a lot over the course of the evening, I refused to get up and dance as the clock struck twelve. I did get up and hug a lot of people.
Then I was ready to get the fuck out of there. Travis having ignored the cute young man for a while, the cute young man flashed me a big smile as I was standing outside smoking moments before leaving. I was paranoid about going home alone. Would Davin be there with a knife? Would my place be robbed? I acted on an idea I'd had most of the evening; I left when Pierre left, and I asked him to walk back to my place with me so I could check to make sure it was okay. He unhesitatingly agreed, and we had a really good talk as we walked along, and inside my (empty, safe) apartment. Pierre stayed maybe ten minutes, and then I was alone.
Went back online--of course--where I hadn't even bothered to log out of gay.com earlier. Young John from AA messaged me, asked me if I was okay, that I'd looked really sad at the end of the night. My heart melted at this tender query. We chatted for a couple minutes.
All the online chatting is a blur now, but I made no serious attempts to find sex. Chatted with Matt and Trevor online, with the cams on. They were both tipsy and hilarious. They both mooned me; I thought I would pee my pants, it was so funny. As I said goodnight to them, I said "I love you guys."
Then went naughty-camming on a Yahoo chat room, while I was chatting up this slightly-tipsy and drop-dead-gorgeous 26 year old Asian guy on gay.com. He was horny, his boyfriend was in another room also online, and while this Asian guy expressed little interest in me sexually, he was a great conversationalist and when I told him I had the cam on Yahoo he watched me there as we chatted. Soon I had 10+ guys watching me on the cam, and I began to get naked. I jerked off while the Asian guy told me a long, rambling story about how he'd almost cheated on his boyfriend a couple weeks ago.
Minutes after cumming, I turned the computer off. Went to bed and read several pages of the abdominal work-out book. Realized how motivated I was to read it, as compared to the shame book. Surely I can do both? After about half an hour--it was 4 am or even later--I prayed aloud about all this, about the bizarre, crazed beautiful day and for guidance to not let sex bend me out of shape again. To not fixate on getting into physical-shape so I could get bent out of soul-shape. Prayed for Howie, etc. Thought about Miles. Did not pray for him.
Turned the lights out (well, all but the nightlight and the bathroom light) and turned the radio on. Dr. Joy Brown was on; I love her, but she was in a grumpy mood. I started feeling horny in a weird way; peeled the covers back and began spanking my jock-strapped butt. Hard. I could hear boys chatting just outside my building, drunkenly and homosexually. I wanted to go out onto the patio with my robe open and seduce them, expose myself to them, jerk off for them. I actually did go out onto the patio thus attired and it was frigging cold and they had just left. Came back to bed, shivering, with my double-header dildo in tow, and fucked myself silly. Got my exhausted dick rock hard from that. Jerked off trying to summon up Keith's prong inside me. That didn't work; I couldn't incarnate him in my ass. It was just a dildo that felt good; the fantasy of Davin fucking me was more accessible. My mind was all over the fucking map. But I did make myself cum eventually; barely a drop of cum.
Then I lay awake, for a long long time. It may have been 6 am before I fell asleep.
Happy New Year.
1:10 pm
