This, That, and Some More of This

I took a couple of days off earlier this week, and on Tuesday, I had five guys over, though I never had more than two of them over at the same time. I'm too beat to tell you about it right now, though, so prepare yourself for miscellany.

Last night a friend of mine had his fiftieth birthday celebration at the Chart House in Annapolis. It's a restaurant that sits out on the water, so the setting is awesome. (The service and the food not so much, but perhaps I should have known to order crabcakes instead of mussels. Still, when steamed mussels arrive at your table and they're only barely warm, there's a problem somewhere. The side order of asparagus didn't arrive at all until I reminded the waiter, and then it was woody. It's just not that hard to snap the woody ends off asparagus.) There were eight of us at the table, and at least six of the other seven guys were Republicans. They are all pleasant people, and they all hold their liquor much better than I do (I stuck to Diet Coke until the waiter inexplicably refilled my glass with iced tea.), and they are all men of means but not, I think, of substance. I don't mind not being a man of means, but I live in fear of not being a man of substance.


Recently, my daughter sat me down in front of her Facebook page to make me play Word Challenge because, she said, her boss was very arrogant about his high score, and she wanted me to play for her so that she could shut him up. I played until I beat his high score, but it wasn't easy because when you get a bonus round, you have to unscramble the name of one of your Facebook friends. EFU is not a quick unscrambler, so I would have to shout out possible names from the letters supplied until she recognized one. Now I am mildly addicted to the game, but I can't get the bonus round because I have no friends. On Facebook, anyway. It's just as well, I suppose. I'm already an anagram cyborg, without the friend bonuses, and I should probably do work at the office instead.


Very late one night last week, when I'd already hooked up with a couple of people, I was on gay.com, and a local Asian lad, with whom I'd chatted before, said he wanted me to come over with my condoms and lube. He gave me the address and told me that the door would be open, but when I got there, the door wasn't open, and when I pushed on the knob, a dog started barking. I assumed he'd just forgotten to leave it open, so I knocked, and, a while later, someone asked who was there, and when I gave my name, he told me I had the wrong door. It was 1:30 or so in the morning, and I wasn't in the mood for any crap, but I apologized and started down the sidewalk. The door open and a (different, cuter) Asian lad came out to ask me who I'd come to see. He said again that I had the wrong door, which -- later, upon reflection -- made me wonder whether he knew the right door. But it was the middle of the night, and I figured I was just lucky he wasn't really pissed off, so I drove home. I sent an angry email to the guy, and he replied that he'd seen me, but that I'd gone to the wrong address and didn't see him waving at me. I rechecked our conversation and confirmed that I'd gone to the address he'd given me and then went to bed, annoyed.

Late last night, when I got home from Annapolis, the same guy was on gay.com again, and he told me that he was housesitting and that I'd gone to the wrong address (1630 instead of 1620). I told him he was full of it, and he said that this time he had the right address. I told him to call me, and he said he couldn't, so I told him not to bother me, at which point he decided that he could call me, after all. It was after midnight, but he was 22 and smooth and Asian, and (I assumed, correctly) he had a small, uncut cock, so I got in the car and drove over. He was waiting for me on the front steps.


This guy had sent mixed messages saying at one time that he wanted to cuddle with an older guy and then that he wanted to be fucked, but it was clear that he really wanted the latter. I grabbed him and kissed him hard, and he returned the kiss, but he started going for my pants immediately. I had to force him to wait, push him down on the sofa, and resume kissing him. He had great lips, and when I went for his nips, he started groaning like no one had ever played with them before (probably not far from the truth). He kept struggling to get up and pull my pants off, and I kept pushing him down, but he was pretty strong, and I was tired, so we weren't there long before he had me out of my pants and was going down on me. He was pretty good at that. He wanted me to fuck him right away, but I insisted on eating his ass for a while after that. I don't think he'd ever had that done to him, either, but he clearly loved it. It wasn't his house, so we stayed on the sofa until we moved to the hardwood floor, at which point he demanded the condom and lube and sat on my cock. He told me it was "too thick," but he really wasn't all that tight, and he took it pretty well.


We went on for another fifteen minutes or so until we were both exhausted, lying on the hardwood floor, covered with each other's sweat and cum. At that point, he actually consented to cuddle, at least for a couple of minutes. When we got up, he said, "That was great! Now that I've got it out of my system, I can get on with my life." I chuckled and said, "That was all that was standing between you and the rest of your life, eh?" He said that he figured he needed to try everything once and that he'd already fucked a pretty Latin boy and now that he'd been fucked, he could go back to girls. Then he asked me to delete his number from his cell phone, and I was all "Paranoid much?" He said that he might want to run for office some day. He's 22, mind, and still hasn't finished college. I said that he must be a Republican, and he said, "No, Democrat," and I replied, "The closet cases are always Republicans." At which he smiled and said, "Yeah, I am a Republican." Then he told me that I was a really nice guy and offered to send me a picture of the crossdresser that he was on his way to Boston to see. Whatever, right? The boy was cute, and the sex was hot, so if he's not a man of substance, it's nobody's problem but his own.