hmmmmm. well, yesterday, another feeble attempt at getting sex. I should've known when he kept yapping on the phone about anything and everything, after we agreed I'd be at his place in just 2 hours, that I should've backed out. But, I figured that I am so disagreeable and unadventurous lately, that I should really take advantage of the only sex-invite I've had in a long while (last Saturday's photo-shoot fluff/blowjob doesn't count). His place was a mess - newspapers, magazines, dogtoys, pots and pans (not dirty, just dusty) everywhere. And the dog, as sweet as she was, really required a lot of attention. Then, at one point, we are sitting on the bed, and the dog (female) comes over and starts humping my host's leg! But it got worse - he started egging the dog on, with all sorts of sex-talk "Oh yeah, you're the best, c'mon, fuck me stud!" and shit like that! Seeing my jaw on the floor, he tried to laugh it off, shook off the disappointed dog, and tried to return his attentions to me. I tried to make conversation, not quite ready to leave, but not ready to get all snuggly with him (his leg was probably still wet). He did the half-way massage thing, and I started getting sleepy. Then he took the dog out for a pee, and put some music on. Which at first was cool, but by the time he came back, the music was that Enya song that is the background for that WTC memorial website that I watched last Sunday morning and balled like a baby for 20 minutes, so I started to get all insular and quiet. We tried the hugging, light kissing thing, which was good, he has a nice body, nice head, stubbly goatee, all salt-and-pepper; but the music went into this Henry Mancini movie soundtrack thing which is really just elevator music that you might know the name of.... we retreated to the bedroom again, but I just couldn't get it up, and once he had me completely naked, I knew it was useless.

He lit up a joint, and while I usually don't like to smoke with strangers, I hoped it would relax me. Well, it did, but in that listless, "sure, do what you want, let me know when it's over and point me to the fridge" way. And after awhile, when he kept moving around, and switching positions, I got suspicious that he was on one of those Chelsea Boy drugs that goes by some letter of the alphabet. Ugh. You know, he takes a few licks, you groan, he moves on to something else, his elbow jabbing in your side, he moves again, sticking some body part in your face, you try to make "slurpy I'm into this" noises, and then just when you 're in a groove, he's gone, disappeared to change the lighting or temperature. Ice cream. It's Saturday Night, shouldn't I be having pizza? Wonder if I have the fixings for brownies at home? Ok, I'm gone, and there's no hope of getting me back. Eventually he senses this, and says "if you need to go home, it's cool" but it takes me the longest while to leave, I'm such a guilt-ridden wimp, I think I have to make sure he cums first. UGH. I mean, I love seeing a guy cum, I love making a guy cum, but again, it took awhile. He could tell I was willing to wait til he came, so he postioned me for the manner that would get him off, and then the noises! I mean, I loves grunts and groans and all that, but this was real loud, and was like something from Hanna Barbera! I kept looking down at him, expecting to see Elmer Fudd and the Tazmanian Devil; and the dog looked real worried, she kept looking at me with these "what the FUCK are you doing to him" eyes! He came, but then started the zone-out post-cum phase, so I got up and tried to find my clothes.

On my bike, discman blasting tunes from BeautifulGarbage, I started to think about what to have for dinner, and as soon as I walked in the door, made some food while spreading the take-out menus on the couch. Then I was a slug on the couch for the rest of the night, disappointed again, knowing that I'm just not cut out for this - I'm really good at the post 3-month thing: once we're dating that long, and I'm secure, I make dinner for you, I'm really great in bed, I'm sailing! But this interveiwing thing is for the dogs, really...............