what a weird weekend.
it all started out friday – i took off from work with a case of the fog blahs. here in sacramento, the fog in autumn through late winter is legendary. some of the worst highway pileups in california history have happened here in the fog. i was feeling as if i needed a good amount of sleep, so i stayed home friday, and tried to catch up.
somewhere around 1730 i decided to call a. and ask him what was up for tonight. we had had a fairly successful date the previous friday, and decided to try again. as luck would have it, he was in rancho cordova (which is about to be california’s newest city) and was looking forward to coming ov-
“hold on a second, i’ve got another call,” he said as he clicked over. “ok,” i muttered to the dead air.
he came back and told me that he couldn’t come because he had to drive to concord, which is about 75 miles from here. apparently, there was something wrong with the store alarm there, and the employee couldn’t figure out what that was, so they called him to go take a look. sigh. we decided that he would call me back if he wasn’t too tired from all the driving, and if it wasn’t too late.
later on, i got a call, and notice that it’s from my friend darin. i answer, and this bizarre voice is asking me something about paying $1000 to go on a teledate. whatever, destry. somehow, darin let him loose on with his phonebook, and destry was calling random people to invite them over.
i stopped off for some beer and smokes, and headed over. a bunch of folks were over there, hangin’ out and drinkin’ beer, listening to music, and plotting our next film festival, a martial arts extravaganza to be sometime in january or february 2003, but more on that later.
at around 0115, most of the people had cleared out, and i was going to head for home, too, but darin wanted to show me a soulmotor video of a performance they did in tulsa, oklahoma, back when they were still touring. soulmotor, for those of you who don’t know, was a band made up of my friend, darin wood, vocals; Tesla bassist, Brian Wheat; ex-UFO guitarist, Tommy McClendon, and a series of drummers too unimportant to mention. They recorded two albums for Sanctuary records, the label that is reviving bands like Iron Maiden, the Scorpions, RATT, Motley Crue, Tesla, and others. well, back when the first album was release, a couple of years ago, they went on tour to support it, and this video he showed me was from one of the shows.
the video was largely unimportant to this story, though, except that around halfway through watching it, our mutual friend, r., showed up. it was around 0200 at this point. more watching of bad concert video, more chit-chatting.
0315 and darin had zoned out in his chair, and christy, his wife, wanted to go to bed, too, but r. seemed like he had something on his mind, so i offered him continued conversation at my place, a few blocks away.
he followed me over through the foggy evening to my townhouse and we parked. i opened a bottle of cabernet while he made himself comfortable in my living room. i lit a candle, and he started talking.
somehow the conversation go turned around to his long-time curiousity about gay sex. i changed the subject a couple of times but when he kept steering it back there, i decided to be up front about it, and started directly asking him how he felt about the idea of being with a man. i’m sure you all know the story – i’m not gay, the guy says, but they’re intrigued by the idea. they don’t want to kiss a guy, cause that’s gay. blah, blah, blah. so we talked about oral sex and the comparative differences between male and female technique. in general, i told him, men were better at it than women, blah, blah, blah. he said that this one girl, c., was the best he had ever had, and she liked to do it all the time. i joked seriously that i bet i was much better than she could ever be.
“put your money where your mouth is,” he said. so i got up from my easy chair, moved the coffee table out of the way, and knelt down between his legs. when he saw that i was serious he got all nervous and said, “i was just kidding.” so, i sat back down and proceeded to continue the conversation as if nothing had happened.
sometime later, it was apparent that he really did want to find out. he was relaxed from the wine, and started talking about my legendary massages, which led into another talk about men touching men. man! i wish he would either just come out and ask me for a blow job or go home. i was getting tired, and it was getting near 0600. so, of course, this is what he does. and that is what i do. i can’t believe that this is happening, though, so i make sure he understands what he’s getting into. that i’m not going to put any demands upon him for relationship, that he doesn’t need to feel guilty about satisfying a long-time curiousity, and that no matter what happens, i’m his friend, and will always remain so.
that seems to calm his nerves, so he says let’s do it. now, this is one of my close friends, someone with whom i have shared quite a bit, and i wanted to do it right, so i proceeded to perform a spectacular job of blow upon his decently sized phallic member. i used almost every technique at my disposal, which is considerable, although i didn’t get into any serious chewing and gnawing. he seemed to prefer less suction to more, and that was okay with me. r. started to act like he was about to release several times, but i started to figure out that was actually too nervous to come, so i stopped, but he asked me to continue, so i started back up again. but you know, folks, when a guy is too worked up to come? sometimes it makes sense to take a breather and try again. he got all rigid-bodied, and his dick would start trying to pump, but not quite. again and again, he would get to the point of no return, but not cross over. he would allow himself to relax enough to do it, so again i stopped, and laid back on the floor, staring up at the candle flame. we talked about what was going on, and i told him that i thought that he was too tense to do this. but then he said, “what do i do about this hard dick, though? let’s try one more time.” i told him that he was perfectly safe here with me, and that he should just let go and let whatever happen, happen.
one last time into the breach, and this time, i could hear a change in his voice as i bobbed up and down on his tool. finally, he said he was coming, and at that let loose an enormous geyser of pearly sperm that fortunately didn’t land on the leather sofa! jizz is a bitch to clean off nubuck leather.
breathing hard, he did admit to me that it was better than any woman he had been with. we went on the patio to have a smoke, and i asked him how he felt. he was glad that it was me doing this, he said, because i’m a friend. i’m glad that he appeared not to be freaking out or anything. we went back in – it was not 0830, and i was truly wanting my bed. he wanted to get going home, too, so we hugged, and i sent him on his way, telling him that if he needed to talk about this or anything else, that he could call me. he did tell me that the experience cleared up for him that he wasn’t gay, but that he did like it, and that he felt less confused than he had about himself.
of course, i didn’t get the toaster oven.
