March 10, 2013
Crazy things going on this weekend. Friday night I went out with Pete, Danika, Ayla, John, and Dave. I asked Hasty and Patrick to meet us at the bar and so it was cool that they showed up. At some point during the evening I went to the men’s room and while I was at the urinal Pete came in to use the one beside me and said that he was sorry to bug me while I was busy–he was a little drunk–but he needed to talk to me privately and it’s hard to get me alone. So I was like, no problem, but don’t lean so close when you’re talking to me at the urinal.
We told the others we’d be back in a minute and took a walk to buy cigarettes. He told me he wanted us to get a two bedroom apartment together because he can’t afford an apartment on his own, and he wants his own room, not sleeping on the couch, or feeling like he’s crashing with me. He wants a home. He also says he wants to have sex and bring home dates and stuff. I was like ok well that all makes sense, so why not. I don’t blame him either, although I would have sex on the couch I was living on, but I’m glad he’s not since I jerk off on that couch.
Then Pete admits he’s a virgin. By this time we’re already back at the bar and so we stay outside to have another cigarette (we had one on the walk back) off to the side away from other smokers. I asked if he was a virgin for both guys and girls. He said both, but he’s kissed girls, but not guys. I was like, “you’re gay and 23 and have never had any kind of anything even a kiss with a guy?” Then I asked him about way back before his cunt parents kicked him out. They were away and he had a party and he seemed to hitting it off with some guy, but he said they were just talking about me.
Well whatever, but I told Pete he should take some girls with him to the gay bars, and not me. He agreed and said I got all the attention, but I didn’t understand why since he’s a good looking guy. He said that I came across as confident, but also straight, and a lot of gay guys like straight guys. I said, “why?” And he asked me, as a straight guy, since I like women, do I like women that are like men or women that are like women.
I said I like women that are like women, of course. So he said, well guys who like masculine guys most often find the most masculine guys to be straight guys. But there are the guys who prefer feminine guys. Then he looked at me like I was an idiot. I said, “Oh. Ok let’s change the subject.”
Then he got all awkward and weird, kicking his foot like a shy little kid. I was like, “what’s up Pete.” He said, “You’ve kissed a guy before.” “Um, yeah but I was on ecstasy, it was an accident.” “That’s not the only time.” “But I was on something, really drunk, high as shit, you know.” “Are you drunk now?” “Yeah. What are you getting at Pete.” “Uhhhh…” “I’m not gay Pete.” “I know that. Believe me I know that.”
Then I got kind of arrogant. I know he wanted to kiss me. I also trusted Pete enough to know he wouldn’t be mislead by it or confused, or expect it to be a regular thing. And the arrogance came in when I started to think that maybe I’d be doing him a favor. He’s pretty shy and I thought that maybe if he just kissed a guy and got it over with, then he’d have more confidence and wouldn’t be so nervous about it. Then I slipped for a moment into an imaginary sitcom world where some kind of scenario such as, ‘getting it out of the way to make it easier later’ happens frequently, and I got annoyed by my cliché thoughts.
I said, come on, and I led him around the corner of the bar so we were between the two buildings, went in the back where it was private. Then I kissed him. It wasn’t a long kiss, but the second I stopped I saw Ayla standing there. She had come out to have a smoke with us and caught us as we were ducking between the buildings. She said, “Holy shit that’s so hot.” I said the classic line, “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
I never thought people really said that, it’s not what you’re thinking, but now I realize that in some situations, it’s the only thing that comes to mind, and it’s always when you’re caught doing something that has a subtext in your personal life plot.
Anyway, she was like, “whatever it is, it’s hot.”
I told Pete to go away. Sorry Pete. Then Ayla gave me a blow job. I love blow jobs in the alley. Can people choose to have fetishes or are they uncontrollable? I choose to have a blow job in the alley fetish. It’s been a while, I think, since Ayla gave me a blow job, and I came my brains out. I swear I lose brain cells every time I cum, I just feel so stupid after. Or peaceful. Ignorance is bliss.
So Ayla came home with me and Pete Friday night. Sweetheart was asleep and so I didn’t want to be rude, so I had Pete sleep on the floor in my room and Ayla and I messed around on the couch. Maybe that was still kind of rude, but I mean, it is my apartment, and Sweetheart’s not my girlfriend, so, I don’t know. Alcohol is a great excuse. Now and then, you do something when you’re drunk that is bad enough that alcohol is considered no excuse. But most times, alcohol is the best excuse. Kissing a guy when you’re not gay–alcohol is the best excuse ever. Robbing a bakery or killing someone–alcohol is no excuse. So yeah, there are extremes.
And the end of my journal entry is this. Yesterday, Sweetheart and I went out to lunch and she told me she was pregnant. She started to tell me her thoughts and ideas on it and everything she pre-planned to say to me, but I stopped her. I said I didn’t want to hear anything in any way that she thought might probably let me off the hook or shape my ideas around her thoughts. I told her that I just want to take in what she said in my own way. Then we can be on the same page after I’ve had time to think about it. And then we can equally talk about it. Then we resumed our day as if nothing was said.
Today I suppose I should talk with her about it, but what to say, I’m no clearer than I was yesterday. And to top it all off, come to find out, Pete’s mad at me, I guess because of the way I just blew him off Friday night. So that’s something I have to deal with too.
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