Thursday NightYeah, that impromptu date. The evening started off in the usual me obsessing over finding some disco-tune from some 70's porno-flick (Super Nature by Cerrone). Then I caught up with some pals for beer at The Phoenix. One guy and I had previously flirted, but nothing materialized, and recently, via email, he mentioned not being in dating-mode, so I figured that was that. While I didn't plan to stay out til 4 am, these guys kept going, and while I didn't match them beer-for-beer, I stayed. At some point, late, between awkward pauses and a few long looks at each other, flirt-boy pulled me between his legs and we kissed. Surprising, not just for the suddenness of it, but also for the strong, yet sweetness of it. We stopped quickly enough, perhaps acknowledging our surroundings, our pals being so close by. Then a few whispered "gee it's late" and "I couldn't do anything 'cept sleep, after all that beer"; another kiss. Gee, he's good. When the lights came on, we all laughed, joking about the hour, and pulled jackets on and headed out the door. I had the luxury of stepping away from the group to unlock my bike, while they discussed who was going in which direction. Walking back to the group, I looked at kisser-boy, and merely said "Hop on" - being such a good boy, he did. I pedaled off as we waved and shouted goodbyes. He was a bit wobbley from the ride, and yeah, an extra 150 pounds wasn't too easy on my beer-filled 140 pound self, but we managed to get up the 4 flights.
In the apartment, we quickly had some water, he undressed fast as we repeated the "we really need to get some sleep" bit. Kissing and nibbling lightly, we cuddled up, and I was ready for sleep. One more mouth-on-mouth kiss, and he pushed my head downwards, either having read bits of this blog knowing what I like, or merely (and more likely) just knowing what he liked. But once I was down there for a bit, I got the giggles, which, fortunately, I kept to myself. Managing to still enjoy what I was doing (and from the sounds above, him too) my head strayed to thoughts of a pal who teases me about my "faux rimming" technigue, and Andy's routine about the inadvisability of rimming on the first date. Not to mention realizing that this man would no doubt be reading whatever I wrote about this within a few hours. We finsihed up just fine. He complained a bit about too much to drink; not in a bad way, but in a matter-of-fact way as he gentley held me as we trailed off to sleep.
I remember waking a couple times, being conscientious of the fact that he had a job to go to; but he seemed not too worried. On one trip to the bathroom, I returned to him, diagonally taking up the whole bed. But each time we returned to sleep, there was a gentle kiss on the head, a warm touch. I gave him clothes, and coffee, when we finally got out of bed. We didn't mention the clothes ever coming back, which was cool, but I found myself throughout the rest of the day smiling, remembering little kisses from him as we slept. Sometimes I really miss the sleep-overs, I've had them so rarely this past year. But, I don't miss the bad sleepovers of years ago, the alcohol-breath, or when I couldn't wait for the guy to leave, or the restless "cant fuck, but lets try for a few tiring hours" routine. This was nice. This was being let in a bit, seeing someone's gentle warmness, and being relaxed enough to enjoy it.