Monday, December 1, 2003Writing at work - slept in a bit this morning, crawled outta bed (with Miles) at around 7:30.
We had quite a night last night; overall, it was mildly bizarre but not upsetting or bad in any way. As soon as he showed up around 5 pm he said I was really quiet, and kept asking what was wrong. I wasn't aware of being any quieter than usual, but then as we were walking to that swanky seafood place in the park, I commented that probably I feel some sadness tinging my happiness at seeing him lately, since we're almost at the end. He said that made sense.
Miles then told me he'd dreamt about me Saturday night. In the dream, I had met or found someone else, a replacement for him, and he was jealous. That's all he remembered, and it was obvious he felt a bit funny telling me that. Interesting.
I mean, what I said as I was addressing the sadness was that it didn't feel fucked-up, it was just perfectly-understandable, non-neurotic sadness. We've talked everything out, more or less, and it's not like I don't understand where he's at, where I'm at. But there's just residual sort of longings and sadness about the fact that we've only got another month to spend together.
Dinner at the seafood place was nice, but we both found the ambience quite hoity-toity and not our kind of place. Food was excellent. I had fresh salmon.
We rented a really bad movie starring the cute guy from Friends, a WW II spy comedy that had a gay cross-dressing theme. But it was so bad we didn't really watch it all that closely. Even before we started the movie, Miles ordered me to strip naked and he did too and he wouldn't let me pull the curtain on the patio door shut. He said we should watch it naked. That was more than a little distracting, and when we'd both concluded the movie was dreadful we almost started having sex on the couch. He hoisted himself up overtop me and fucked my mouth - oomph, that was hot!
It was sometime around this point that he asked how long ago it was that we met, and I was gonna say four months now, but then I computed and it's actually only three months! We were both shocked, especially me: it feels like a lot longer. A lot has happened during this actually-quite-short time we've been dating. Just acknowledging how short a time has passed puts a lot into perspective too. I mean, of course I don't know enough, yet, about this man to know whether I could be in a long-term relationship with him. That only makes sense. But because things have moved so fast (although not too fast, I don't think), it feels like I should already know.
And sometimes, lately, it's felt like I do know, that I am ready to commit, that if he wasn't leaving town in a month I'd be ready to go to the next level with the relationship. But that's silly; we'd need so much more time to really get to know each other. It's more than a little heartbreaking that we won't get that time and space. (Unless it happens later, but realistically the odds are against that happening I think.)
We got into bed shortly after the movie ended. I had a shower first, as I know Miles prefers me to be completely clean before we have sex. (He'd said Saturday, for example, when I teased him about not sucking me Friday night that the reason he hadn't was because I hadn't showered before bed.) But last night he was kind of weird about it, walking into the bathroom asking why I was showering, and whether he should have a shower or not. Anyway.
Got into bed, and sex happened. Surprise surprise. Actually it was a bit unusual how it began: we lay there necking like mad (yum) and he was grinding his dick into my crotch and then eventually in between my legs right there, especially jamming it up against my freshly-shaved balls. It felt hot. I've never been much into the frottage thing and he and I had never done it before, but I encouraged him (non-verbally) to continue and began actively-bottoming him by squeezing his dick tight with my thighs and rocking back and forth. He was really into it for quite a while but then said it was too dry. I suggested he could use some lube but then he asked if he could fuck me again. (Cute, too, that he asked without coming right out and saying it.) I said no, that it wasn't gonna work that night on account of the big dinner I'd eaten.
So then he asked me to suck him. I really bristled at that, but didn't say anything. It's the first time he's ever asked me to do that, I mean, I don't need to be specially asked to suck his nice penis, I am perfectly eager to suck it all the time anyway! But I don't like it—and this used to come up all the time between Mark and I, especially at the beginning—when I'm asked to performed a particular sex act like that. It kills the spontaneity that's essential to connected, hot sex for me.
Anyway, this was the first time he'd done this, and so I complied. But I don't even seem to enjoy it as much when I'm asked to do it. Nonetheless, we sixty-nined, and it's become more and more apparent to me that it's a major turn-on for Miles when I lick and suck his balls so I did quite a lot of that and he returned the favor, and I swallowed his cum again for the second time this weekend. (smirk) I came buckets too.
Then, literally minutes after we'd wiped up the cum, Miles said he still felt horny and we should have "Round Two". I laughed, but he was serious. He knows I'm not much of a “repeat” man, that I typically have a twenty-four hour refractory period, and so he only teased me about it, not actual pressure or anything. But he was in fact raring to go again so he said he was going to jerk off. I didn't like that, it made me feel funny, my boyfriend lying beside me, the taste of his jism still in my throat, jerking himself off again. He asked me to touch him while he did it, and I very reluctant obliged, squeezed his balls distractedly and he came again in about 3-4 minutes. It was kind of funny.
Then we had a great, fun, light-hearted conversation about sex, which has become a bit of a Sunday night post-sex habit for us. Miles seems to want to talk a lot lately about his insecurities about his body, not so much in an insecure way but just as a way of really talking about what's real for him. I kind of like talking like this with him. I'm really down on myself lately about my aging body, about the belly I can't seem to get rid of, but I didn't speak up too much about it. Sometimes speaking up makes it more real for me or something.
I wish I could remember more of what we talked about, but I cannot. Anyway, he was almost asleep, it was around midnight, and I couldn't stop thinking about having nearly flashed Lorraine on the webcam Saturday. I'd been wanting to tell Miles all day, because I knew he'd find the story funny, but we'd agreed that I wouldn't tell him anything about my "extramarital" exploits so I restrained myself. But lying in bed there next to him, I started giggling; one or two wee giggles came out like farts. "Wa?" Miles said, in that adorable Chinese way he asks "what"? "Wa?" He was persistent—bemusedly so—in wanting to know what was so funny, so finally I told him.
As predicted, he found the story hilarious. But then I felt really weird having told him that. That I'd had cyber-sex with Tom (didn't mention him by name, just said it was a guy from ** who I'd probably never meet), and was about to flash him my dick again. Owning up to that, so as to be able to share a hilarious story, made me feel unexpectedly vulnerable.
So I told Miles I felt weird, and he was all cuddly and soothing and said "I'm pretty open-minded eh?" And that was pretty much the end of the conversation.
I guess because I sometimes suspect or imagine that he's carrying on with someone else or others and I couldn't handle knowing about it right now. So rubbing his nose in my extra-marital goings-on, however minimal and cyber-only that story was, just made me feel confused.
And that's how the night ended.
This morning he was groggy and very very affectionate. So it doesn't seem like there's anything to worry about.
I can be sad without worrying, without fretting.
I can love without always fucking everything up.
I think I can.
