When it rains...

Boy does it fucking pour.

Note: this entry gets a little NSFW later on, so... there's that.

I've been doing some thinking about relationships. I'm currently in that very grey area before we actually use the b-labels and right now we're just flirting and spending the night. This guy is smoking hot. Beautiful brown eyes, very tight body and the cutest smile I have ever seen. And he was discharged from the military under DADT, which is kind of a turn-on. We had been flirting on and off for a few weeks, but things got crazy at my last job and we kind of lost touch a bit, he started dating someone else and so we didn't really talk a lot. Then one night he comes up to me and (very drunkenly) starts flirting with me kind of aggressively.

In this situation I tend to deflect. This is the same guy I mentioned earlier, who had approached me before and I had lied and said I had a boyfriend. We laughed a bit and he apologized, as it was his breakup strategy to drink and just have fun. Apparently he had broken up with his boyfriend about a week ago. Long story short, we spend the night together. We've been trading messages and texts and emails and have yet to go out on a date, but we meet up at the bar, have a few drinks, and spend the night doing amazingly depraved things.

I find myself getting.... anxious if he doesn't respond within a day. Is that desperate? Maybe. Will it scare away someone who doesn't want a relationship? Maybe. Is that bad? No. If I want a relationship, why would I spend time and energy in someone who doesn't? Either way, I think this is a non-issue now, so I no longer check for replies with anxiety, and more with excitement.

Here's the other thing I'm finding out... we're pretty sexually compatible, which is fantastic, but... hm. This may not be work-safe, so proceed with caution. I enjoy porn, and the porn I really get off on tends to be raunchier than most... lots of rimming, pissing, cum-eating, bareback (although I am well aware of the risks involved, so I think I watch that kind of porn to live vicariously through it... I have never intentionally gone bareback, and I don't plan on it anytime soon. I was stealthed once, but all my tests miraculously came out negative) and this guy is an aggressive top who can really pig out, which on paper is hot, but in practice? I get performance anxiety when he starts getting dirty and it pisses me off! I've finally found a partner who, sexually, is pretty much everything I get off on, but I freeze when we start getting into it. I have no idea what that means, because the idea of vanilla sex makes me kind of bummed out.

I dunno what the deal is exactly, but I am determined to find out. I guess I just have to have more sex to figure out what's wrong. Darn.

Stream of... Something

As I sit here, watching Season 1 Episode 8 of Ally McBeal (...yeah, that's right.) I realize something.

Two things.

One, is that I am more drunk than I thought I was. Hm.

Two, I realize that the more I talk about sex, the more this blog will be read.

But do I want this blog to be read. I don't know the answer to that, so I figure an experiment is in order. Not yet though. I am too drunk to accurately write about my sexual exploits. Right now at least.

I am sitting in an apartment right now with two people that I admire greatly. One is a woman who has involved herself in numerous campaigns and is at the point in her career where she can be showered with job offers, decline them all and know that her reputation is not in jeopardy.

The other is a guy. A guy whom I consider to be my older brother. And I have never told him this because I feel that he would be insulted by me calling him my older brother (because he is older, yet trying I think to cling to his youth). But I feel so much affection for him and he is the kind of person I imagine an older brother to be. He... is just great.

As the oldest of four, I don't know what an older brother should feel like. Which opens up a whole host of guilt, in that I feel like I should have been a much better older to my siblings.

I get the feeling that this post is exposing more of myself than I have before. And that comforts me. I feel like I'm chatting with a friend, but I'm really just chatting with myself,

I like you.

"When you make love to a guy, do you look him in the eyes?"

YES.

Calista Flockhart just seems goofy on Ally McBeal after watching her on Brothers and Sisters.

(I am currently downloading the complete series of Ally McBeal, so I look forward to watching it in it's entirety. That and "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia".)

LINES. We are drawing lines.

I was so right!

Totally regretting the last post! But it's not my style to delete, I prefer to backpaddle.

It has been a long time since I've been in anything that can be described as a relationship. A long time. So when I get those relationship pangs, I know I'm in no position right now with my job to actually have a relationship for two reasons: first and foremost, it's against the rules. Sort of. Staff can't date staff and staff can't date volunteers. And, martyr that I am, whenever I meet an interesting, funny, smart guy my instinct is to recruit them for a volunteer shift. It's like I'm flogging myself with a chastity belt, but so much less sexy than that! Secondly, I don't have the time and energy left over after work to be able to engage with anyone. I spend all day listening to life stories of the people I'm fighting for (and don't me wrong, it's the most fulfilling work I have ever done), so when I get home I just want to crawl into bed with a movie and turn my brain off.

At times when I do actually go out and socialize and am able to get my mind out of the campaign, that's when the desire for a relationship starts to seep back in. So one of the guys from another office (whom I love dearly, he's like my older brother and I admire him endlessly for the work he does and has been doing) calls me up last night at around 10 and asks me if I want to head into Philly to go to a couple bars in the area and out of some twisted place in my head I say yes. It's about an hour away, so I knew after the bars close at 2 I wouldn't be getting to sleep before 3. We meet up (and I meet his new boy... a hot, thug-ish guy who I never would guess was a catcher, let alone gay) I get some alcohol in me and suddenly all I want is contact. All I can think about is taking some guy home and... well, you can probably guess from the last post just what I wanted to do. Naturally, I deny any and all advances from everyone at these bars and go home alone. Not ideal, but I have a long day today (I'm writing this on my lunch break) and I just wanted to sleep in my own bed.

So somehow that desire for an actual relationship mutated into me talking about what I like to do in bed, and I realize that's awfully forward. The way I see it, I have enough great, intelligent people around me every day that I can get the physical stuff from a random stranger and everything will balance out. I know I'm wrong. I have no illusions about that.

So, sorry if the last post was too much! Again, it's how I roll. Especially when inebriated.

Anyways, now I'm hungover but it's not too bad, and I have good people around me again and I'm so freaking excited to see my family on Thursday. Life is pretty okay right now!

And yet, while I may regret this later...

Having just returned back to NJ after a night in Philly at a gay bar, I feel as though this post needs to be prefaced with the following:

I am drunk.

I pride myself on being a person who does not easily succumb to addiction. There was a period in university where, for at least 2-3 months, I smoked pot every day. Granted, I was a leisurely pot smoker all through university and to this day, however at most it's once or twice a week now. Seriously, 2 or 3 months where I got high every day. I kept my grades up, I was never high in class, I even consistently went to the gym, but as soon as I was done for the day, the joints came out and the pipes breathed easy once more. Then one day, for no particular reason, I decided to stop. Cold turkey, I didn't smoke again for a year, maybe more. No reason, I just didn't feel like it anymore, proving that pot had no control over me. I have of course resumed smoking pot, but not because I felt I needed to. I had just remembered how wonderful it felt. I think I can attribute that to the fact that I quit for a while, so that initial high never became complacency...  I never really got used to it and so I never felt the need to get higher and higher... I would only ever just have a good buzz going.

I tell this story because there is a vice I have that, no matter where I am or what I am doing, I have never been able to shake. It's a thought that is always in my head and it has led me to dangerous, foolish situations.

At this point, there's no dancing around the subject. I am addicted to giving head. There is no sexual act I enjoy more than going down on another guy and it's not really something I can control. Craigslist, manhunt, adam4adam... friends, teammates, classmates, teachers... it's somewhat alarming that I'm still STI free (I was tested a couple weeks ago).

Why I feel the need to share this I can't really explain. Maybe the few who read this can offer me some insight.  Maybe because it's been so long since the last time I've felt that irreplaceable feeling of a man that causes me to be so forthcoming.

Then again, I have been drinking.