Sunday, December 13, 2009


Not too long ago, I was at Blackbird, drinking some wine and chatting with Bob and some other people. They were probably chatting at this particular moment I am describing, because it was a moment when I wasn't listening, wasn't really participating, was seated at the end of the table and so a bit out of the main dynamics of conversation, and anyways while drinking the wine, fingers near my nose, a whiff came my way of asshole, of this boy's, of Jacob's. The smell made me terribly happy, turned me on, and out of the conversation as I already was, I for a moment got lost in the recollection of the afternoon I spent with him.

He came over to shoot some photos of me jerking off for some photography project for school. That of course led to the two of us having sex. It started on my couch and because my lube was up in the corner of my lofted bed, I eventually moved him up in that direction. We fucked and kissed and came and then lay next to each other chatting, making out, kissing each other's necks for a long while. He had a paper to write and I had things I wanted to accomplish, food I wanted to eat, but we continued to lie there, continuing to kiss and stare at each other. And how quickly things can change. He had been just some fuck buddy from Grindr and over the course of this day became some person with other attributes. He now has a last name. He told me that I was in his phone as Charlie Grindr and I told him he was in mine as Jacob X. We painted in other details for each other, disclosed last names, sexual histories, daily habits, things, details from which to glean some idea of who a person is, or who they might possibly be. I am beginning to like this person. This is good and maybe not, because what does it mean to like someone when there is someone else you still kind of have your heart set on? What also does it mean to like someone so much younger, younger by nearly a decade, that how much connection can there actually be? All questions I do not know the answer to. I do know though that I spent a couple hours lying next to this person today getting really giddy looking into their eyes, feeling their naked skin pressed against mine. I do know that I feel and felt quite happy.

With each sip of the wine, I tried to place the smell, what particular things I was smelling, the pieces of his body, the pieces of mine. People talked and there was music playing and I kept finding myself in my bed, this person's body next to mine, their not-entirely-certain-of-what-this-person-across-from-me-might-be-thinking smile, their beautiful smile. The wine did things to my brain, these recollections did, and I felt quite comfortable there at that table, present somewhere in this world even if not there.

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