30 Days and 30 Nights (Assess to Asses, Butts to Butts)
The season of Lent is upon us. Like a good Catholic, I went in and had ashes applied to my forehead. I find weird comfort in this ancient, symbolic gesture. Ashes to ashes…
Ash Wednesday marks an end of Carnival, the celebration enjoyed by all the heathens in the world (tongue-in-cheek; for I certainly more than qualify as one). My own personal Carnival has been going on for quite some time, so I am using this as an opportunity to attempt something a little different. For the season of Lent, traditionally, folks are supposed to give up something that they enjoy in order to more closely relate to the suffering endured by Jesus during his forty days and forty nights of fasting in the desert.
Now… what exactly do I enjoy more than (almost) anything else in the entire world? Let me think… hmmmm.
I managed to get some at the tail end of Fat Tuesday, so with that in mind, I have decided to go on a sex fast! I would attempt forty days and forty nights, but I kind of missed the very start of the season (by three days) and the season is actually only 36 days long. So, instead, it will be thirty days and thirty nights of ‘just say no’ to sexual acts that involve another human being (or any other sort of being). Hey, I’m a realist. And if I make it for the full thirty… I will be fucking amazed! But I gotta try.
Ground rules: Masturbation is allowed, but not with the aid of pornography – simply whatever sexy I can conjure up with my mind. I will also be refraining from going on the internet in search of porn or to ‘chat’ with people. Scruff, Grndr, and Jack’d are also off limits. So is Recon, Adam4Adam, and Manhunt. Craigslist? Somebody else will have to flag those inappropriate sex ads! I will be allowed to gather a suitable photo each week for this blog, but that is the limit on viewing naked man parts. Now, there happens to be a loophole written into the whole” giving up something for lent” thing: Sundays are actually free days, a time where anything goes. However, I will not be observing that practice, and will attempt a full thirty days and thirty nights. Yep, I’m serious about this!
It will mean changing a ton of habits that I have developed. I will need a new place to hang out at after work. In order to avoid tricks I have known and loved as well as any potential temptation, I will not be able frequent the same hiking trails that I have been frequenting. My home laptop will feel unloved and lonely. It will gather cobwebs, as I have very little use for it that is not sexual in nature – well, writing, yes, but that IS usually sexual in nature, so... hmmmm. My cell phone will become this thing I drag around with me for no reason, as I never actually talk on it, using it primarily to text, Scruff, etc. I will also have to deal with the ennui of my work place and find something to do with all my extra time.
One nice thing? No anxiety about STDs! I am seeing my doc today for an unrelated matter, but will request a complete STD screen – just to make sure I am starting my fast with a clean slate.
Oh, yeah. This is fool-proof. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this plan. Right? (Roll eyes here.)
So, part of Fat Tuesday was spent with that lovely black gentlemen I met on Grndr. I wrote about him a couple of weeks ago – check it out. Since our first tryst, we’d been playing phone tag and I was beginning to think that I’d never get to see him again. Especially after having once made a date for fun, with me showing up, ready to go, and having his ‘roommate’ answer the door! In my defense: I did not know about his ‘roommate’. In his defense, he did tell me to call before I arrived (I texted). In both our defenses, I should point out that it is a two bedroom condo and both bedrooms appear to be in use. It would explain the rather bare-essentials living room. I have not seen the kitchen. Bottom line: I don’t care if he’s partnered or not (and I am thinking he’s not).
Anyway, two days later, we’re good to go, and we end up having a great time. My memory is usually pretty accurate when it comes to dick size, and if anything I tend to remember dude’s dicks as larger than they actually are, but in his case, I underestimated. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised (and royally fucked!).
The kisses were fewer this time, but fine. I’d also forgotten how much he loves to eat ass. We fucked on the bed, again. It was great. For the final round, I was on all fours, facing the headboard, with him on my back. My fuck-back went into overdrive, with my ass basically pummeling the cum out of his dick. I sort of took his breath away. We played safe, which is now my game of choice. This time we lingered less, for time seemed to be of concern as the roommate could return at any moment. All told, we were both kind of giddy in the afterglow and left one another’s company pretty impressed with one another.
He reminds me of Blair Underwood, just a bit. Yes, he’s taller than Blair, and his body is more rocking, but yeah, he has that Blair Underwood thing going on, for sure.
And that should have been the end to my sexual exploits, but for some reason I found myself the next night, sitting in my car after choir practice, scanning my neighborhood on Scruff and Grndr. I guess I wasn’t quite ready to start my thirty day and nights. After chatting with a few – one dude was 515 feet away, another in Plymouth - I get hit on by this guy that is kind of a legend in my mind. He’s been on-line as long as I have and I know he knows who I am, for I have sent him numerous photos, but we’d never met. He always had the same sepia –toned body shot / no face pic in his profile, that is up until two weeks ago, when he replaced it with a close-up of his pecs. Surprisingly, he is interested in playing. Turns out he had a trick lined up and got stood up; that trick’s loss / my gain.
I head on over to his house (he’s two blocks away). He ushers me inside. He’s already communicated that this needs to be quick, and I am cool with that. Looks-wise, he’s not what I expected. The images on-line don’t exactly match up, but nothing that’s a deal breaker. I could list all the things that were not as expected, but the thing is – it was all perfectly fine. I liked the mustache, the furry little (very little) belly, etc. He was taller than I expected – always a good thing. His dick was smaller than advertised and, to be fair to me, I have to point this out – if you are going to advertise your dick size in your on-line handle then you had better be accurate! That said – his dick was perfectly pleasant and more than adequate.
After the fact, I find out the reason he has never played with me is because he has a partner and was fearful that I would not be discrete. No problem, I tell him. I am discrete and I do not care – just fuck me.
We go down to his basement where he has a sling set up. All in all, a very nice time was had by both of us. I could nitpick (and I fear, already have), but then so could he (and he sort of did). He sucked my dick, I sucked his, I ate his ass, and he put me in the sling. I thought he would eat my ass, but I think he didn’t like the looks of my pucker, as he made a comment about how my hole appeared to “like to be used”. I could have been insulted, but I’m on my back, in a fucking sling, in his basement – who am I to have an opinion about anything. After slipping on a condom, he fucks me. It is a fun fuck. He likes his nipples played with, as do I. I’m not allowed to touch my dick, and it turns out, he’s not that into kissing. Oh, well. After ten minutes in the sling he tells me to get on all fours in front of a full length mirror. Well, to be honest, I am more than happy to get out of that sling. The last time I was in one, I wretched my back. This time turns out to be less traumatic, but the next morning, I’m feeling it in my shoulders and lower back all the same.
In front of the mirror, with me on all fours, he kind of squats behind me, riding high up on my ass. It makes a nice picture, and actually feels much better than the sling. He blows his load this way rather quickly, which surprises me, but I’m glad he got his cookies. I get on my knees and work my cock up to a nice hard on. Standing over me, he watches. I ask him to kiss me just before I blow my load and he obliges. All in all, not bad. We clean up the scene and I am out the door pronto, promising not to acknowledge his existence should I see him in public.
In a way, the encounter was everything I could ever hope for: convenient, fast, nice set-up, nice scene. We did lots of fun stuff, everybody got their cookies, and we played safe. Yay!
The fact that I am less than enthused about last night’s encounter is what lies at the heart of why I need to take on the challenge of abstaining from sex for thirty days and nights. Because this was a perfectly great encounter and should have left me feeling very happy. There was nothing inadequate about what we did and, in fact, it was pretty great. But I come away feeling it was merely adequate. Because I was merely adequate. I was merely adequate because there is a part of me that was just not that into it. My bad. You bring your ‘A’ game every time, or you stay the fuck home!
My encounter with ‘Blair Underwood’ really should have been enough. That should’ve been the end point of casual sex and the start of my thirty days. The reason that I was firing on all fours (interesting pun) with ‘Blair’ was due to the fact that I had not been fucked since the first of the month and had practically been climbing the walls. At one point I was actually begging a dude via text to fuck me (and I’m so glad that did not happen – story for next week). So, where ‘Blair was concerned, I did bring my ‘A’ game. Not so with Bachelor #2.
So I’m glad I’m taking a break. It’s time.
How successful will I be? Time will tell.
Thirty days and thirty nights begins…