Well that was unexpected

So, there's this boy. He's tall. He's cute. He's funny, if a bit quiet. In fact, in the one-plus years I've known him, the total time we've actually had a conversation is prolly less than one work week. He's just this guy that is around. We see one another. We smile. Perhaps we make eyes at each other. I'm not sure.

Well, Saturday night was a bit of a throw-down dance off between me and a couple of friends. Suddenly this boy is next to me on the dance floor. We make eyes. We smile. We chat. At some point we exit the dance floor to cool off. In this particular club there is a wonderful spot overlooking the dance floor underneath an A/C vent, which is a just heaven on Earth after being on a crowded dance floor. We make our way there and chat some more.

Now, I may or may not have been a little inebriated at this point in the evening, so what we chatted about is a little less than clear to me at this point. I do know that at one point we kissed in a, "Oh yeah, we're going home together tonight," kinda way.

At some point after 3a.m. when we left the dance floor for the last time we hopped into a cab and started to make our way back to my place. Now, I have to pause for a second to say that me taking anyone back to my place at the moment is a big deal. Why? Well, considering I'm currently processing through all of my worldly possessions for my impending move across the ocean, saying my house is a disaster area is like saying the devastation to Galveston Island after last year's hurricane just needed a little sweeping-up. Well, somehow he convinced me that I had a reason for my place to be a disaster area, whereas his place was equally atrocious but he had no reason for it and we made our way to my house.

Upon arrival there is some kissing. Some clothes are discarded. Smiles make their way across our faces. Good times were had by both of us.

As we cuddle up and begin to drift off he asks me, "So, what took us so long to have sex?"

"Ummm... I wasn't sure that you were interested," I reply. "You're stupid," he says as he pulls my arms around him closer. We slept without moving, waking in the exact positions we laid down in.

The next morning, smiles once again spread across our faces. He asks if we should hang out again. I agree. We exchange appropriate information. We've text'd back and forth a small amount this week. But once again, I can't tell that he's interested.

Trust me. I understand the "Oh, let's do this again sometime soon" thing that is just said and not meant. I will admit that I've done it myself. I'm perfectly fine with this being whatever it was. I'm also okay with this being something more than just a random. The degree that it's something more...? Oh, I dunno.

But for whatever reason, this boy has been on my mind this week.

Let's Talk About Sex

My entries as of late have been far too focused on exercise with little to no mention of... Sex!! Well, there's one minor problem with me talking about sex right now. I'm not having any.

I know!! I know exactly what you're thinking. "How could this be?" And to be honest, I'm not exactly sure myself. I mean, I think about sex. There are numerous boys around town that I have found rather attractive and which induce tightness in the Levi's, but in the end, I'm kinda, "Meh... why bother?"

I think I may need to see a doctor about this soon.

I was out to dinner recently with Kelicious and some friends for his birthday when one friend asked me who I was dating. "No one," I replied. "Oh, you're dating everyone?" my friend then asked, with a wink. I paused for a moment, thought about his question, and said, "Oh hell no. I don't have time to think about anyone else's feelings these days."

Now, this might seem a bit crass and uncaring, but I've just got so many moving parts in my life as I prepare for the next step. Getting laid takes a bit of effort (admittedly not too much for me, really...) and I just don't have the energy for that. However, I'm not really missing sex that much right now. Yet, in the words of my good friend Great Abs Guy, I do miss missing sex.

What can I say? It's been a while.

It's been a long time since I've made a real, true, and significant post. Busy... work... blah, blah, blah.

However, recently I was able to take some time off of work and actually enjoy a quickly warming Texas spring. Texas actually does Spring rather well, which is annoying since every other year I have to pretty much miss the whole thing due to work. Oh well.

So, the other day I was at a local watering hole enjoying some lovely libations with some friends. A very dear friend, let's call him WASP boy, was in town for spell and this was the first time I have seen this friend in at least a year. WASP boy and I used to live together and have been through a great many things with one another - both good and bad. When we saw one another we immediately ran to each other (so cute, right?) and embraced in a pretty damn tight bear hug. In my excitement, and this isn't too unusual with me to be honest, I lept up and wrapped my legs around his waist while we were hugging. His response? Well, he started bouncing up and down like he's fucking me in the frontal rucksack position.

I'm gonna pause for a second to remind y'all that it's been over 3 months since I've seen Brit Boy and as a result, it's been over 3 months since I've had sex. It's even gotten so bad at work that by the time I get home from the office, I have no desire to take matters into my own hands. There just hasn't been a whole lot of... um... release in my life lately. Just wanted to let y'all know where I am currently.

Where was I? Oh right, riding WASP boy in the middle of the bar. Well, we complete our hug and make our way to get our drink on. That's when I notice it. The tightness in my drawers. I squirm. I shift. I adjust. My friend looks at me and asks, "Did I give you a hard-on?" "Well," I start. "A semi..."

At that point, three of my friends walk up and, upon hearing my confession, start inspecting the bulge in my pants.

"Oh you sure do," one of them says. "Yup, there it is right there," says another as he gives it a litle tweak. Now, it takes a lot to make me blush, but damn was I a bright shade of embarassed.

More mature ramblings...

So yeah, it's been a while. I've been busier with work than I think I ever have been before. How am I handling the long hours at work and the constant low-level of stress? Well, a nice dose of mature web-surfing, of course.

awkwardboners.com/2009/04/team-boner/

What can I say? Y'all know I am a bastion of maturity.

You have chairs for those too?

A friend of mine is a staffer for a member of the Texas legislature. Earlier today I stopped by his office to say hi after a meeting, and found him in discussions with the "furniture people." Apparently, his boss was unhappy with the big, comfy chair for his desk. The big leather chair with the seal of the State of Texas across the back. The one that no less than three cows had to give their hides to make. Yeah, he wasn't happy with it. It's not large enough.

So, my friend was in talking with the furniture people. "My boss is looking for one of the high-back chairs. I've seen them in other offices."

"Yeah, I can get one of those for you," the furniture lady stated. "We actually have two models of that chair. They are basically the same, only one is larger than the other."

"Well, which one would you suggest for my boss?" my friend asked.

"Well, that all depends," the furniture lady said. "How large is your member?"

I had to leave.

It's just so...

I woke up in the middle of the night last night. That, in and of itself, isn't anything unusual. I normally wake up at least once a night. Sometimes it's cuz Brit Boy comes to bed after I have fallen asleep. Sometimes the fluids I drink before going to bed result in my body waking me up so that I can relieve myself. Sometimes, and this has been happening with some regularity lately, I'm in the middle of a disturbing, vivid dream, and I wake up with a start.

Last night, however, I was awakened due to the second situation. Sometime around 3am, my body decided that it was time to get up and "use the facilities." There was one little... well not so little... problem. I was experiencing a nocturnal erection. A rather severe nocturnal erection. Urination was, well, challenging to say the least.

So, there I was, stumbling toward the bathroom, still rather groggy from having just woken up, trying to figure out how I was going to quickly relieve myself, return to bed, and get back to sleep.

I start thinking about car repairs. Tree-trimming. Longitudinal studies of student's performance on standardized tests in public schools. Nope. Nothing happening. Or, more accurately, a lot of the same thing was happening.

A few minutes go by, and the blood in my body started to move away from where it had been residing. Finally I was in the... um, position... to be able to experience relief. Once I have that all taken care of, I shuffled, as quickly as possible, back to bed. I curl up with my pillows (one of which is called Brit Boy 2 for when he's away) and hope for sleep.

Nope. I've been awake to long, and my attempts to think on things other than the situation in which I found myself had brought my mind fully online.

Damn it!

I've become a surrogate

Tonight, I was asked to become a surrogate. "But Cary," you might say, "you're not able to carry a baby!" Well, I was not asked to become that kind of surrogate.

My straight boyfriend asked me to read a straight sex letter sent to him by his lover cuz he couldn't read her handwriting.

Me, I like the sexy-thing. You?

It should, by now, be abundantly clear that I'm a pretty open-minded guy when it comes to sex. "Whatever juices your pickle" is pretty much my mentality. Do what you wanna do, but be informed about it. Which is one of the reasons I love Sue Johanson so much.

Well, with Sue leaving the tv airwaves (she's focusing on her Canada-based radio call-in show) there is now a gap in the availability of sex-information that needs to be filled. The need for frank, to the point, truthful information about our bodies, sex, and our sexual interactions with others is paramount. Ignorance is not bliss in this matter. Its dangerous and deadly.

There is a group in the midwest that is doing their part to chip in. Yes, the midwest. The red states. The flyover states. The states where it's not appropriate to talk about such things. Well, they're talking about it . In a funny, engaging, and open manner. In the midwest. Which means their job is doubly hard.

And they need help. They're raising funds to keep going. Stop by and see what you think. And contribute if you can.

Homo-say what?

Let me set up the situation:

I'm out having a few drinks with friends. The watering hole where we are partaking of these libations is giving away tickets to the current running of The Altar Boyz. I end up winning a pair of these tickets. Immediately, several of the other gayz start asking if I'll take them with me to see the show. (Really? Tickets aren't THAT expensive, just buy one). Several of these individuals know of my current situation with Brit Boy being gone, and me not having had sex since I last saw him in Thailand. Several of these individuals joke that if I take them with me to the show, they'll put out.

After a few times, I finally look at one of my friends and say, "You know, I don't even really care about sex anymore. I don't think I've masturbated in over a week. Put out, don't put out. Fuck me, let me fuck you. Or don't. I really just don't care about it right now." To say that my friend was shocked is the understatement of the month. Me. Mister take care of things four times a day. Me. The guy that has had sex six times in a 24-hour period. Several times, actually. Me. The guy who's laptop hard-drive is over half-full of porn. Yeah, I'm not really feeling the sex thing.

Which I guess is a good thing since I don't really have an outlet for it right now. But it does kinda concern me. Since when did I become an old man?

ouch... OUCH!!!

I am of the opinion that it is a good idea to keep yourself in a presentable state. Keep your hair maintained. Shave or keep up the trimming of your beard. This even applies to body hair. Legs, perhaps not, but chest hair should not be all out of control.

And yes, this also applies to where the sun don't shine. Not only is it nicer to look at a well maintained crotch, it's just polite. I mean, really. Who likes to be picking hair out of your mouth when you've been rather friendly with someone?

Seeing as a group of people see me naked at least once a week, it is rather important that I keep up with all these personal hygiene routines. Well, for anyone that has ever had to shave anything on their body on a regular basis, you might very well be familiar with a certain malady that accompanies frequent shaving - ingrown hairs.

Now think about having an ingrown hair in that special place. An ingrown hair that is irritating and painful. An ingrown hair that is preventing me from... umm... taking care of other matters.

This is not a good situation.

Tasty, flavorful snacks

I ride my bike to work most mornings, and I have a fairly set route that allows me to dodge most traffic heading into downtown. Since I travel this route regularly, and am quite familiar with all the houses, potholes, and dog walkers, I do tend to zone out slightly. However, when I round a corner and see a tall, attractive, naked man leaning over a series of grey plastic trash barrels, it definitely catches my attention.

I slow down slightly and give him a slightly gutteral “morning.” He quickly lifts his head from his task, his bright eyes instantly connecting with mine. “Morning,” he replies with a smile. When I ask what he’s doing, he very casually responds that he’s washing peanuts in order to season them and sell them as snacks.

“Washing… peanuts…” I think to myself. Kinda odd. Only after I myself lean over the trash barrels do I realize what he’s talking about. In each of the three consecutive barrels are hundreds of Styrofoam packing peanuts floating in water.

“Interesting,” I finally say out loud. “Need some help?” I ask, as if it’s the obvious reply in such a situation. I mean, really. Attractive naked man. Washing Styrofoam packing peanuts. What would you do?

As I start helping him dunk, strain, and lay the peanuts out to dry, another cyclist rides up, also asks what we’re doing, and offers to help. He’s cute-ish. Not my type (translation – shorter than 6’2”), but not bad eye candy.

At this point, the entrepreneur states, absent-mindedly, that he needs to apply sunscreen to his legs. Nothing too out of the ordinary about that statement. This is Texas. In June. It’s damn hot. However, the not-totally-cute cyclist offers to help. My ears perk up. I look over and watch him apply sunscreen to hot, naked guy’s calves. To his thighs. To his inner thighs.

At this point I’ve stopped washing the peanuts and start to think, “Hey, haven’t I seen this porn?”

It’s when not-so-cute guy starts to ensure that our studly entrepreneur won’t get sunburned where the sun don’t shine that I drop what I have in my hands and walk over to… help.

The rest… well, I can leave that up to your imagination. All I can say is that with two and one-half months left before I get to see Brit Boy again, I can only imagine that my dreams are gonna get more and more… um… explicit.

So... hard...

I leave tomorrow morning to meet up with Brit Boy. When we meet in Bangkok, it will have been three months and one day since I last saw him. I know some things have changed - he no longer has a mohawk for one (he thought it best to cut it off when traveling through SE Asian countries that are a little less than stable. No need to draw extra attention to oneself.

Excited can not even describe the feelings I have right now. I'm bouncy, I'm smiley, I'm joyous. I'm pent up.

I started withholding from myself on Sunday. Yes, you read that right. Me, the guy that takes matters into his own hands at least twice a day has gone without since Sunday. Three days ago. I wanted to "rev up the engine" for when I get to be with my man again. However, right about now I feel like my crotch is about to burst out of my pants.

Excuse me?

A couple of weeks ago, it was a trip to the STD clinic. Shortly thereafter I went and got shot. In the arm. Several times. (Vaccinations for my impending trip to Thailand).

Today I went in for my physical. And I'm not really sure why it is, but why is it that when the doctor is cupping my balls, asking me to turn my head and cough... AND when he's rolling my testicles between his fingers for the testicular cancer check... why does he try to make small talk?!?

I mean, y'all know I don't have any issue being naked in front of people. Nor do I have any issue with men touching my junk. Just... um... small talk? Really?

And, I gotta tell ya, for someone that hasn't had sex in lord knows how long, I sure am getting poked, prodded, and having my genitals fondled by strangers a helluva lot.

umm... wait. What?!?

"CRAP! I think I just accidentally set up a trick."

That was my call for help yesterday afternoon. I'll explain.

There were a couple of new guys in my Saturday morning Yoga class, and I was talking with one when class was over. Turns out he's in town for an extended business trip, and kinda came across the class by accident. As we're chatting, he mentions hanging out sometime, as he doesn't really know many people in town. I'm a friendly guy, so I agree and we exchange numbers. At some point in the afternoon, as I'm taking a nap, my phone rings. It's Dancer Boy (he's a dance choreographer) seeing if I'm available to hang.

"Sure, man. Sounds like fun. Wanna grab a bite to eat or something?" I ask groggily. I mean, I was taking a nap. "Why don't I just come over to your place, you're close by where I am, aren't you?" he responds. I agree, hang up the phone, and put my head back on the pillow.

"Wait! What?!?!" I exclaim as I bolt upright.

At this point, my mind starts racing. Is he thinking this is a hook-up? He know about Brit Boy, right? I mean, I was talking about him after class, as well as my upcoming trip to Thailand to meet up with him. Was I flirting with him when we were chatting after class? I don't think so. Crap. What is he expecting?

So I send out the text at the top to my Twitter friends. I talk with my friend Sincerity as we have plans to get together for dinner and drinks later on. Basically, I try to figure out if this is all harmless hanging out time or if he's wanting something else.

As it turns out, all that worrying was for nothing. When I talked to Dancer Boy I brought up the issue of what he was expecting. "I was just thinking it'd be cool to hang out."

It was fun. Sincerity thought he was a cool guy too. He showed up about the same time that Dancer Boy came over. I mean, I needed to make sure someone would know if I was dead. Killed by some psycho killer.

OUCH!!!

I'm all about lessons learned as of late. Today's installment?

Cotton swab inserted into your urethra when you're hungover = not fun. (Honestly, it's never fun)

Yes, boys and girls, this morning was the six-month trip to the STD clinic. I went mostly out of habit. Brit Boy has been my only sexual partner since my last trip, but I've said it before - I'm a creature of habit.

I feel there's something growing between us.

I was in a meeting this morning, a meeting to which I was only tangentially associated. As such, I wasn't really paying close attention to what was going on and was daydreaming. My daydreams, as is usual these days, were focused on Brit Boy.

Suddenly I have a raging hard-on straining against my slacks. And then I hear someone say, "Well that's about it for right now everyone..."

*shit* Meeting's over. But... um... I can't stand up. *eeep*

Is that hair gel?

Conversation on the way to a BBQ with my friend Sincerity:

Me: What the hell is that woman trying to do, ram her car up my ass?
Sincerity: Have you (and I'm paraphrasing here for propriety) taken care of business in the last couple of days?
Me: Ummm.... actually no, I haven't.
Sincerity: You need to take care of that pronto!!

See!?! All work and no... er... release makes me a grumpy gus!!!

The Scent of a Woman

I spotted my target relatively early in the evening. From across the patio I saw the spikey blonde hair, stylish leather jacket, and the nonchalant stance. I swooped in for the kill. My pick-up line? "Hi, I'm Cary." It's the simple ones that work the best.

One minor problem. My target was a lesbian in town from Phoenix. Good thing the pick-up wasn't for me.

I have to say this is the first time I aided a heterosexual(?) girl pick up a lesbian.

And then he kissed me.

I like to think of myself as a mature, emotionally stable person. Someone who uses logic and reason to move through a situation or a problem. Cuz you know... that's what mature, stable, rational grown-ups do.

(You know... you could at least wait till you finished reading till you started laughing)

Saturday night. I'm out with Kelicious having a few margaritas. Followed by a few more. And just for good measure, a couple more. We were having a great time, hanging out with C, JM, and a venerable cast of characters. I went off to the bathroom, and while standing in a line that seemed to last forever, who should walk up? Shot Guy.

"Oh Cary, I've missed you. How are you?" He snuggled up close to me. Put his arm around my waist.

"I have a boyfriend."

"Oh... When I saw you I was hoping..."

I feel a hand on my crotch.

"...um.. that we could..."

And then he tried to kiss me.

I tactfully declined. Tempted? Sure. Remember all those margaritas? But really... if memory serves me right, it wasn't *that* great.

And then I turned, left the bathroom. "Fuck, fuck fuck!!" went through my head. "Is this what the next several months are gonna be like?" I walked across the patio. Completely bypassed telling Kelicious what I was doing. Made my way through the bar. Got outside. Hailed a cab. And went home.

See. I told you. All the actions of a completely rational, sane, well-adjusted adult.

C's Birthday

Tonight was C's birthday. I met him out for some drinks after my evening class, and... damn... we had some fun times. Between Sweet Georgia Brown, Take On Me, and various other 80s dance songs, we had a fabulous time. Even while hanging out with a former barback that admitted to not having had sex since the 90s... (I mean really... who hasn't had sex since the 90s?!?!?)...

So I'm off to bed... curling up with my fabulous pillows...