Sunday, April 4, 2010


It is Easter. I was raised Catholic and so this day has a lot of symbolism for me. I am not always aware of when it is going to happen, a week ago was asked to dinner for Easter by my mom and I had to tell her I had no clue when that was and she told me it was a week from then, what is now today, and I said yes, and today I ate dinner with my family at some really stiff steakhouse in Midtown. I worked today and would occasionally get glimpses of people lying out in their swimsuits along the Westside Highway from some of the room windows. I got a little bummed, more than a little, having to be in this job, any job really on such a beautiful day, a weekend day too, having to work bringing me down, and thoughts about how I needed to remove that feeling from my life, had to get a new job where I would not have to be there at 7 am in the mornings on such a lovely Sunday when I should be one of those people out on the Westside Highway lying around shirtless, soaking up this amazing spring day that we were privy to today, the blossoms energetic and popping all over these streets. People showing skin and these buds showing their blossoms - spring - and since I have become a little more involved with the Radical Faeries, the idea of Easter, of its pagan origins, this celebration of rebirth and new things that Christianity had to anthropomorphize in the resurrected body of Jesus, here it is again on this city streets, there it is in my bed.

And so there is the desire as well to bloom again, to renew the things latent in me suppressed for whatever reasons, be they seasonal, economic necessity of having to work, or otherwise. Jacob fucked me last night, Easter morning technically. It was the first time he had fucked me and it meant a lot to me. I had wanted it to happen for a while, did not like these clearly defined sexual roles that had been established, am not used to being the top role in a relationship, really wanted him to fuck me, to be thrown around, taken down. And for whatever reasons, my fickle asshole, my often weird feeling bowels, or just the circumstance of habit, it had yet to occur, was becoming a thing that I was aware of, that it was a barrier we would have to one day cros, and it happened naturally. And it was really nice to get fucked by this boy that I am loving more and more. I became happy that the roles were more fluid, more balanced, before had been about worried that it was a sexual dynamic based on size and age. It is Easter. I had dinner with my family today. I did not tell them that my boyfriend that I am trying to get to move in with me fucked me for the first time since we have been seeing each other and how insanely happy it made me. This is what I would have liked to talk about at dinner, how my asshole still felt pleasure at being stretched out last night, yesterday the first time I had been fucked in many, many months, how there at that table we were eating at, boring steakhouse with terrible art on the walls and way too dim lighting, that I was thinking of a dick in my ass, of a boy I love, and of renewal, of things happening, blooming, of change.

No comments:

Post a Comment