I feel a little bit bad about this picture. Not the blurriness: I don't seem to be able to help that when I use the cell phone. But it really doesn't show the DC Cowboys at their best. I think they were taking a short break between dances. When I saw their float turn the corner from Dupont Circle onto New Hampshire Avenue, the Cowboys were dancing in perfect formation and looking really fine. I don't know who told them to switch from last year's Levis to this years tiny spandex, but sometimes less really is more.
I hadn't intended to go to Pride this year. Which is not to say that I had intended to skip it, just that, as it often does, Pride snuck up on me while I wasn't paying attention. I think it must be impossible to be Pride oblivious if you live in most of DC, but if you're a suburban queer with kids and no active memberships in gay organizations (I sang for a couple of years with the Lesbian and Gay Chorus of Washington, which meant a weekly foray into DC for rehearsal plus actual performances at the festival, so I was much more clued in), it's easy for Pride to be off the radar.
Presumably, if b&c hadn't been out of the country, we'd have arranged to do something, but as it happened, I only saw the parade because while C. and I were romping on Friday, he mentioned that he was seeing the parade and having dinner with some friends on Saturday evening and invited me to join them. Well, who doesn't love a parade?
Anyway, I was pretty busy most of Saturday. There was this guy from Craigslist who said that he wanted me to be his daddy. I've mentioned before that I'm not real thrilled to hear "Daddy" from anyone other than my kids, but I've also mentioned that I'm willing to beat my distaste into eye rolling in the interest of procuring good sex with eager men. Anyway, we'd arranged for me to pick him up from the Metro station at 11. I tried to be a few minutes late -- it's important not to be seen to be waiting for someone who wants you to dominate him -- but when I got to the Kiss & Ride, he wasn't there, so I got back on Georgia Ave, where I saw him walking towards the other Kiss & Ride. I went to 7-11 and got a Diet Coke and looked for something snackish (I hadn't had breakfast), and he called me to say he was at the station. I told him I'd be there shortly, hung up, paid for my stuff, and went to retrieve him.
He got in the car and told me I was late. I shrugged and we started back home. He was kind of cute and had nice lips, but he (not unexpectedly) talked too much. He interspersed repeated assurances of how much he was going to please me with admonitions about the state of my cuticles (he has a manicure every two weeks; he gets his eyebrows done at the same time) and apologies for not being clean shaven. On the whole, though, I'd have to say that he was more sweet than annoying, and I do love sweet.
I got him home and inside and the dance began. I grabbed him and started kissing him and pulled off his shirt and wife beater, then I pushed him upstairs, grabbing his ass all the way up. He said he needed a shower because he'd gotten a little bit sweaty on the walk to the Metro, and I told him it could wait. I pinned him down and kissed him some more (great kisser), and when I got my lips and tongue on his nipples, he asked me to bite them, so I did, pretty hard.
Some day I'd like to make a documentary about dom/sub mating rituals. Nature channels are always showing animals copulating in the wild: shouldn't we have our turn? But while I'd certainly enjoy getting all that salacious footage and doing the Attenboroughesque voice overs, from the dom point of view, there isn't all that much you need to know. Submissives will want to play many games with you, and the submissives' manual would stretch to three volumes, but for doms it's pretty easy: the only winning move is not to play. Or at least make sure that you're really in charge of the game. If the submissive is begging you for something that you want to give him (like permission to suck your cock), then you can lower the waistband on your underwear and snap it back in his face when his mouth gets close. But when he starts to pretend to deny you something, just look bored and take what you want. If he persists in his objections, pin him down and take what you want. He does not really want you to be playful. He wants you to assert your dominance and put him in his place.
R. did try to play a lot of games, but I wasn't having it. He tried to say he was tired of kissing, so I kissed him harder. He tried to say that he needed a nap because he was too tired, so I bit his nipple hard. He tried to say that he wanted me to suck his cock for a while, so I said, "No you don't." I did let him take a shower after he'd sucked my cock for a while (he really is a great cocksucker), and then I started to eat his ass while he went down on me. He liked having his ass eaten so much that it threatened to get in the way of his cocksucking, but I wrapped my legs around his head and held it down on my cock. Then I bit each of his butt cheeks, which really got him going.
We'd been going at it for about an hour and a half -- and I'd bitten him on most of his body, much to his delight -- when I decided it was time to go for the fuck. He said he hadn't been fucked in over a year (when his last daddy moved to Richmond), and he was pretty tight, so I used plenty of lube and an increasing number of fingers. He was still worried about being too tight, so I told him to sit on my cock. It took a while, and I had to grab his hips and push him down eventually, but he got me into him.
Bottom on top is not a very good position for dominance, though, so I put him through a variety of positions. He started out on his stomach, then he was on his hands and knees, then on his back, then on his side, and finally back on his stomach. As always happens, once he got used to it, he was begging for harder, and I complied for a good while. But I could tell that he was legitimately tired, so after twenty minutes of fucking, I jerked myself off just short of ejaculation, then pushed his face down right next to my cock and sprayed all over him. Some of it missed his face and shot all the way over him to the head of the bed. I made him clean me off, and then I held him against my chest for a while, and he fell asleep. I slid out from under him, rinsed off, and went to answer email and change the laundry while he napped for a while. Then I drove him home.
I had time to get to Costco and back to drop off the groceries, but then I had to go back to the Metro to pick up my afternoon massage guy. He's a married guy who I'd done once before. He'd mentioned in his latest email that he was really looking forward to having my hands and lips on him, so I thought there might be a bit more than the usual massage. When we got inside and he headed for the massage table, I grabbed his shoulders from behind and pulled him towards me, and he turned to face me and we started making out. The guy's just an awesome kisser, and after a couple of minutes of high-quality osculation, I asked him whether he'd like to go upstairs and fool around for a bit before the massage. His reply was affirmative and enthusiastic.
When I got him upstairs, I manhandled him a bit and threw him down on the bed (always with a smile, naturally) and got his clothes off and we made out more. Then I moved on to his nipples, a lot more gently than with the boy from earlier in the day. We rolled around on the bed some, and then I went down on him briefly.
M.'s diabetic, and he had been telling me on the way over how he'd met earlier in the day with a personal trainer who had promised to help him with his erectile dysfunction. I'd looked quizically at him because I was pretty sure I remembered his cock working just fine. He said that he often has trouble getting hard enough to penetrate and that he couldn't just "fuck the crap out of someone" the way he'd like to do. I mentioned that perhaps he should learn to bottom (which he should do, anyway, because he's got a pretty small cock), and he replied in a way that gave me to understand that bottoming was a project that both attracted and intimidated him. Anyway, his cock was rock hard when I was playing with it, and he was appreciative. We made out a little more, and then I started to play with his ass a little. He pulled off my clothes and started to go down on me, so I started to rim him. Oh, brave new world. At least from his point of view.
We were only upstairs about twenty-five minutes. I wanted to get to Pride eventually, and there was still a massage to be done. He wondered aloud whether he'd be too excited to get a massage. I said I had ways of relaxing him, and I grabbed his cock and started to kiss him while I stroked. Within thirty seconds, I was starting to wipe up the cum and he was trying to get his eyes to focus again. I was a little bit worked up, but I didn't want to take the time to cum. Besides, I'd shot a pretty huge load all over the boy earlier, and the boy hadn't cum, so getting M. off without getting myself off restored some sort of ejaculatory balance to the universe. (This would make a good plot element for the gay porn version of The Ring, no?)
We went downstairs, and I started the massage. I was afraid that I wouldn't feel grounded, but I got in the right frame of mind and body pretty quickly. It was a relatively quick massage. I was thorough with all the major body parts, but since he'd been pre-released, I only needed about forty-five minutes to do a good job. The first time he'd been on my table, he'd had a lot of trouble with my attempts at prostate massage. But I've gotten better, and he's loosened up, so I worked his prostate fairly thoroughly, and it was all good.
He hopped in the shower, and I went upstairs to clean up and change. Then I drove him to the Metro, and we took the subway downtown together. He said that he was still somewhat intimidated by Pride, so he got off at an earlier stop to get dinner and catch a movie. I exited at Dupont Circle, which, not surprisingly, was something of a mad house. The parade had already started, and I tried calling C., but I only got his voice mail, so I found a spot on New Hampshire just northeast of the Circle and watched the parade. The crowd was pretty thick and it took a while to work myself up to where I could see well, but I got a pretty good view, especially of the hot police officer who was trying to keep people back far enough to let the floats pass. There were beads and candy flying through the air, and I was too far back for most of it. I did catch a Blow Pop at one point, but I passed it off to a cute young Korean lesbian who clearly wanted it more than I did.
After the parade, I tried calling C. again, but he wasn't picking up, so I wandered around a bit and tried again, still with no luck. I was about to give up and get on the subway when he called me back. They were already at the restaurant. I'm so far out of the loop on Dupont Circle (and DC gay life generally) that I didn't know where Mimi's was, but I did find it, eventually. I don't believe that I'd ever been to a singing waitperson restaurant before, and I probably won't be in any hurry to return. The service was painfully slow, and the vibrato was just plain painful, though I suppose at least a couple of the waitresses could get jobs piercing ear(drum)s. My burger was very good, though. C.'s friends were okay, but C. is about ten years older than me, and he's one of the young guys in his crowd. Eating with a bunch of guys who've known each other for twenty years has its challenges, but it's fun to be in a crowded, noisy restaurant in Dupont on a Saturday night, and heaven knows there was plenty of eye candy. It was nearly ten by the time dinner was over, and most of us walked back to the subway. I rode all the way to the end of the line, and everyone else got off much earlier. Fortunately, I'd found a copy of The Onion on the train, so I was amused the whole way out.
This here picture has nothing to do with Pride or sex or even the weekend: I produce it as a matter of general, albeit mild, interest. Last Thursday night, my elder daughter graduated from high school, and we had dinner beforehand in a restaurant in DC. When I went to the men's room, I saw this on the stall wall, next to the door. I have no idea. It certainly was a comfortable stall, easily big enough for a threesome and probably even a fourgy, but I don't think my legs felt any more comfortable than they do in most bathrooms. I probably should have gotten a picture of my almond-encrusted, yellow-tailed flounder, instead. That really was superior.