Wednesday, September 17, 2008


Despite my lack of interest in most things summery, I can't help being a little sad at the approach of the equinox. I love the fall, and I love the winter, most especially the Christmas season, but nowadays when I leave the office at 7 or so, it's often dark or nearly dark by the time I get home.

I shouldn't mind this: I'm not especially enamored of daylight. If I could design my own paradise, I'd probably put it in a house by the beach. There'd be a large patio, then a pool, then two paths, one leading down to the beach, the other up the mountain. And every day the sun would rise and then take an hour to run across the lightly clouded sky. Then there'd be a long, spectacular sunset, followed by six hours of dusk, and ending with a long, long night of clear skies and only the light of the stars. And sometimes the moon. I'd also make it so that the sand was never too hot and didn't stick to you, and there'd be cabanas all around the pool so that you could play with hot guys whenever you were so moved, but that's really neither here nor there.

I don't really care whether summer ends with the autumnal equinox or with Labor Day. I guess that I said farewell to summer last night. Tonight, YFU is over, and tomorrow night I have choir practice, then YFU is over for the weekend, and b&c is coming home on Saturday, and it will be a while before I have another period of unfettered sluttiness. I don't really mind: there are other matters that require my attention, and even restricted sluttiness is still fun.

Anyway, I celebrated the changing of the seasons with one last romp with Judd. I expect that there will be future romps with him, but they probably won't happen any time soon, and in any case, I've promised to invite him to dinner with b&c and probably some other friends, which probably means at least an eventual and partial cooling of the heat between us. I think that's just part of how I'm wired: I always want to make new and lasting friendships, but when it comes to sex, I need, at least in part, the bright, new, shiny thing and the thrill of the chase.

Last night, though, was still as hot as ever. He'd been there about an hour when I had him on his back, his ankles pinned down next to his ears, and I was pounding as hard as I believe to be physically possible. And he was just eating it up, screaming until I pulled off and collapsed beside him, and when he said, "Why on earth did you stop," I just looked at him and said, "It seemed like a better choice than passing out." The ten minutes or so that a lot of guys take getting used to my cock aren't required with Judd, so they're spent pounding. I'm just not used to fucking that hard, and I'm especially not used to fucking that hard for that long. He almost wore me out. Almost.

But when he started making noises at 10:45 (he'd arrived at 8) about needing to leave, I pulled him closer to me and started kissing him deeply and playing with his cock, and he melted and mounted my cock, and then I flipped him onto his back, put him into the same pretzeled position, and gave him another long round of the same pounding. Clearly I need to do some sort of training, but I'm not sure what will target the exact muscles I need to pound him relentlessly for half an hour. He already says that I'm one of only two guys who have ever been able to really pound him as hard as he wants to be pounded (the other guy is an ex-boyfriend of his), but I figure I should do what I can to be sui generis. Anyway, it was a very erotic and very pleasant evening. He left, reluctantly, at 11:30.

I can't remember the last time I had a romp spend the night. I'm not sure I've ever done that while I've been living with b&c, so it may well have been back when b&c and I were still just romping. I'm not sure b&c and I ever actually dated. At first we just hooked up, and then we were FWPs, but there was an assumption -- on both our parts -- that the difference in our ages meant that something deeper and permanent wasn't on the table. But then he decided that he loved me (I had already decided that I loved him, but after previous experiences, there was no way in hell I was going to say it first.), and suddenly we were partners. Maybe you could consider the period between when we decided we were partners and when I moved in to be the dating period, but I wouldn't call it that. It's just as well. I suck at dating. Dating is hell.

Logan -- the tall, fifty-something, Istanbul-born gentleman from the weekend -- had mentioned as he was leaving that he would talk to me, so I sent him a very brief email saying that I'd enjoyed our time together, and he responded that he would like to spend the night with me the next time. I responded that I would like that, too, but when he said that he was free Monday afternoon, I had to tell him that weekdays are very rarely good for me because of work. And then I told him that he was welcome to come later that evening and spend the night or that he could spend the night Thursday, but not until after choir practice. I also told him that b&c (who, after all, he already knew about) would be back on Saturday so that I would not be able to host an overnight guest. And that was the last I heard from him. I have no idea why: I suppose this is another one of those who-can-fathom-the-hearts-of-men issues. And I don't really mind not sleeping with him again, but he had a certain charm and a very cool accent. And I always feel that my life is insufficiently peopled with friends who were not born in the country. Plus, he and b&c would likely have gotten along well, which would have raised the possibility of my attending maybe one less opera a season. Oh well.

I just got a text message from Judd. He was thanking me for last night. He's also indicated an interest in spending the night some time, but he keeps a mad busy schedule, so I'm pretty sure that won't ever happen. Which is just as well since I'd likely need days to recover.

I texted him back, "I just feel like less of a man because I didn't give you a hickey. I cried myself to sleep last night." This was the first time we'd been together where the evening didn't end with the two of us standing next to the mirror having an argument over whether I'd given him a hickey. I think my goal should always be to leave him with a hickey that's so light that it can be plausibly denied, but last night I didn't even manage that, despite significant neck biting. Fortunately, failure is a bitter pill that I'm well accustomed to. And I can console himself by remembering that between the first and second hard poundings last night, he rode my cock and shot all over my chest. Being shot on doesn't do anything for me, really, but I still have a good sense memory of the way his ass clamped down on my cock as he was coming. Also when he coughed. Yum.

Speaking of shorter days, the only time that b&c and I can find to take a vacation together (i.e., the only time when he's not traveling, and I don't have a deadline), is the beginning of January. I was noodling around some travel sites and found some very reasonable tickets to San Diego during that time period. Originally, inspired by Tony's fab trek earlier this summer, I wanted to drive down the pacific coast of Baja during that period. But then I checked some travel advisories, and we decided that we would rather explore San Diego and some of the California desert parks. I will reserve Baja for another time, and probably a different season. Late spring, perhaps.

In early January, though, San Diego gets only around ten hours of sunlight a day. Ten hours is plenty for me, in general, but we want to be doing a fair amount of hiking in Anzo-Borrego and Joshua Tree, and it seems wise to do our hiking in daylight. Also, the daytime temperatures in January, especially in Joshua Tree, are somewhere between cool and chilly, but when the sun goes down, it gets quite cold.

I've come up with a two-pronged strategy to deal with the relative lack of sunlight. I mentioned it to b&c, and he seemed receptive, though he has yet to think about it enough to fully sign on. We're supposed to fly out on January 1 (which happens to be our fifth anniversary) and arrive in the afternoon. I figure that we should do the desert parks towards the beginning of the trip, probably on the 2nd and 3rd (and possibly the 4th). Sunrise out there is around 6:50 am, and that's an hour when we wouldn't normally be up, especially on vacation. But that's almost 10 am Eastern Standard Time, so if we stay on our own time for at least the first few days of the trip, we should have no trouble rising before dawn and seeing some spectacular desert sunrises.

The second part of the strategy is to drive by night. If we leave San Diego late in the afternoon on the 1st, we can drive to Anzo-Borrego and arrive after dark. After a nice dinner, we can retire to our room with a nice bottle of California red and be ready to go early the next morning. Then after a day in the park, we can make a similar drive to Joshua tree the next evening. I'm figuring that we'll drive through the park at night so that we can stop so that I can have a long, chilly stare at the brilliant night sky. Then another day of hiking, perhaps a day in Palm Springs, and then a return to San Diego, where, b&c tells me, I must devote a full day to the zoo, and another to a hike up around La Jolla. As usual, we're only going to have about a week, and then we'll fly home, and he'll fly off to Jordan (or somewhere) a day or two later. But it should be a great week.


John said...

I am saddened only to remember that you always change the name of your playmates, because Judd is such a mad-sexy name that it really suits this guy. I'd rather not think his name could be Jerome.

The Neighbors Will Hear said...

Judd's real name is neither Judd nor Jerome. He is not especially butch, but he's not feminine, either.

By the way, I think that "Jerome" is at least as sexy as "Judd," probably sexier if the so-named person is French, though in that case there would be a couple of accents on the name.

Jérôme said...

Oui, en fait il y a des accents :
Mais tous les Jérôme ne sont pas sexy... ;-)