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A Fulfilling Overnight (or, “And to think just the other day you were illegal!”)
Skill Seekers and Fantasy Finders (…In Disparate Scenarios) (For the first part of this experimental entry, click here.) (For the second of this three-pieced series, click here.) …“And just to think the other day you were illegal!” I imagined myself exclaiming as soon as I’d enclose us in my apartment as we advanced toward my read more..
Skill Seekers and Fantasy Finders (…In Disparate Scenarios)
(For the first part of this experimental entry, click here.)
(For the second of this three-pieced series, click here.)
…“And just to think the other day you were illegal!” I imagined myself exclaiming as soon as I’d enclose us in my apartment as we advanced toward my high-rise. After retreating from the backseat, I’d call out your tension and we’d laugh away these nerves, as I premeditated the impulsiveness that would inevitably proceed. As I smiled at your wide-eyed expression in the back of the cab I detected your half-hard manhood working down the length of your thigh, legs widened as the city lights begged through the windows to briefly affirm that pre-cum was working through your pants. And I wondered how in my maddened lust I would happen to integrate the pieces of the night to come to profoundly situate you in an initiation into man-to-man-love.
And as I witnessed you spill beyond the binding of your briefs, I recalled the constrained bulge in my once best friend’s dad’s Fruit of the Looms when I was approaching your age, as my masturbatory material had been mostly stashed underwear ads and the neighbor’s trashed International Male magazines. And as my mind revolved, I pondered my past inexperience as I expected your apprehensions to stem from being porn-informed and expectation-laden. So I resolved to strip you of your youthful apparel and expectancies of this advertised man’s professed prowess in a rare mirroring of one another as I’d take in a rear view and make out its real value before you’d swallow my pole as I’d hallow your hole. Then, instructing you to get on your hands and knees, I’d suck your downcast shaft, tickling your nads with my tongue just to roll it up your taint to probe your junk again simply to nibble on your trunk, causing you to giggle in anticipation of a gleeful free-for-all as I’d ready you for a heady enthrallment.
And after I’d reached around in lubed charge, I’d jerk you until you baptized my palm with jiz while working your backside to bust a nut inside you. And I’d wipe the sweat from your forehead as the torridness would simmer to a warm experience of two men with practiced tools, compelling one another in unceasing optimism to increased possibility… And with your fresh scent on my face, and your young flesh against mine, we’d revel in having allowed each other to be alive and awake to ourselves and our tribe, employing this passing moment to be more aware in our interactions with varied others upon our pensive parting… And we’d take a bit of this and a tad of that in the spirit of creativity and connectivity as we’d lie broken in our devotion to arise and take our leave more open-hearted – our eyes less closed to a wondrous world as we’d commenced this overnight, overcome by insightful delight.
However, ahead of hailing the taxicab, we enact your imagined prearrangement, which is turning out to be mutually amusing. You spot me cruising you from across the café – leisure-using Generation Z looking up from his cell to lock looks with pleasure-pursuant Generation Y, 14 years your senior and 16 feet from you – you, at 18, assume I handhold the answer to every “why” and each “how” as, playing with chivalry frivolously, I haphazardly gesture for you to sit next to me. You eagerly make your way, outwardly on top of the situation to get to the bottom of things.
While we’re no thingumbobs, we don’t yet know one another from Adam. Still, the hesitancy and haste in which you await an awakening is all too familiar. You beseech me to teach you – how to locate a fantasy in a two-way while one-sidedly lacking the skills to encounter your first time with confidence and competence. And while I focus on each facial feature – rendering your handsomeness random, surrendering to this calculated happenstance – you ask away, going astray from the moment at hand in a grasping for certainty, as I exist in every way as a many-sided question. Then you ahem a somewhat sidewise ”AHA!” as you work out that an instant with me is a window into yourself as I wrap you into chance with my charms as we dance forward toward desires we can’t quite identify as I inwardly consider my newfound love for this newcomer whose hands I hold across the counter. And no words are offered, as you capture me, headlong, in rapturous youth.
HOMEWORK
So much of what I do includes assisting men in connecting what they crave with what they require. Often we are confused over what is underneath our attraction, signaling for its symbols in a struggle for fulfillment.
Your homework is to assess what you ask for, and penetrate the surface. In this three-part piece I have explored resolution with father figures past in light of my apparently “aberrant” sexuality, the duplicity of adultery in lieu of my singleness, and recaptured youthfulness via sexual conquest. Perhaps what’s beneath each scenario is an urgent yearning for self-love and the esteem that comes in parenting oneself, faithfulness to myself as I follow self-made models, and the vibrant aliveness that comes in experiencing the mundane anew. I don’t know. I’m forever in the process of figuring it all out.
One thing for sure is that just as I’ve loved merging former happenings and current fancies with those of clients in these episodes, I’d be inspired in collapsing a fantasy to its essence with you. I’m here. ☺
(Note: I’m still seeking meaning in Morocco, but return stateside in two days’ time! The time is right now, and it’s an opportune one too. ”YEYUH!”)
(Participate in part seven here.)
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Still in Teutonic land and with Wagner resounding in my ears each night, in the unbearable heat of this unusually torrid Nordic summer, I had a brief opportunity to read your last entry: Delightful! It is a chant to audacity and a permanent search for meaning in instincts, thoughts and actions, in spite of conventional creeds or personal doubts or limitations and beyond external and internal repressions. Yes, my dear friend, you got it again and after reading your entry I needed what I call a “home remedy”. But your entry is as hot as the environment in which I am writing this note, and at the same time, refreshing! Contradictory? Sure. It is in the contradiction where we find harmony. Looking forward to hearing from you about your experiences in “Al-Magrib” although our sky will lack the stars. They prefer to shine in the desert where they do not have any competition.
This is the most eloquent you’ve ever been in English, dear man – I dare say, writing poetry is serving you well. 🙂 Eagerly… Adam
Every time I leave your apartment I am a better person than when I went in. You helped me integrate long-forgotten fantasies, expand my sexual horizons, and just plain enjoy myself. And I can still smell you on my skin, which is just hot.
But it’s your concer for me as a person, rather than viewing me solely as a client, a source of income, that really makes you extraordinary. Thank you, once again, from the bottom of my heart. And other places on my body.
All we have is one another, Mike, and it’s glorious to revel in that personal expansiveness with you. 🙂 And, for what it’s worth, I still smell you on my face. Mmm… That scent will be informing this coming Friday’s labor of love. From the bottom to the top – and all the parts that make up the whole. 😉 Adam
Salacious. Rapacious. Overwhelmingly stimulating. Your words…as intricately woven as a monk’s painstaking tapestry, encapsulates and embraces with caresses that excite beyond belief…almost. If I hadn’t experienced the experience first-hand it’d be hard to fathom as real. You so very much make it real. You are a GIFT to me and to so many. You are sublime. You are a manifestation of healing love so complete to so many. So good that it provides a measure of the same to you, too.
A measure of the same is a matter of gain then, dear man! Love is truly in the giving. I am going to re-read this and relish every morsel… Adam
It occurs to me that you might be saying that fantasies, struggling to emerge, need to be fluid. It really is impossible to act them out and match what has been on the inside for so long, with what is about to happen. But thank goodness the goal isn’t to make an exact fit of fantasy with reality, then it would just be a repetition. I believe what you’re saying is that the fantasy, the expectation, is not the end point, it can be the start of something big. Perhaps reparative. Restorative.
From my point of view, Adam, your talent, your gift, is your ability to enter into the fantasy, but as yourself, not as an empath. But as a partner. In my own case, as you know, the fantasy was no longer around desire, it had hardened, it was unchangeable. I somehow thought I needed to abreact it, remove it by matching it as exactly as I could. So there would be room for—what? But you insisted on becoming co-creator, making something old, something new. Making something I thought I needed, something I wanted. Skin to skin. Heart to heart. Moving. Cumming. Being still. And now amazingly, changing each time: again and again.
Goals make us move, Chris – right on, and then to the – say – left! 😉 Again and again… If we are all idiosyncratic parts of the whole – if our experiences are nuanced selections from the same source – then… God! However we repeat, it’s going to be what it is. The point, perhaps, is to be, as you wrote, “fluid.” Play with expectation so its collapse is that much more felt. And then take delight in the collapse itself. 🙂 It’s so good to be back in New York. Thank you for this welcome! A very jet-lagged Adam