He giggled over the jockstraps hung on the doorknob, he enjoyed the music I played, and our bodies seem to click even better than I had remembered from last Friday night. Great face to kiss (not that it's the only place I kissed), cuddliest body, and the sweetest sounds we caused each other to purr and moan; when he had to go ("you know, there's room for one more in the cab") it took a long time for him to leave - but it wasn't sad, as we both acknowledged that we'd see each other soon. He lives way way above 14th st., a fact we've laughed about because of my "downtown only" rule, and I look forward to taking that A train way way uptown very soon.
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Meeting someone for the first time at a sex club, any sort of subsequent date rarely goes well. Suddenly you have to have things to say, you worry about your grooming, your face framed by ridiculously crooked glasses, not to mention the "I don't really do that stuff, it was just a fluke me being in that sling" concern that you won't really measure up sexually-speaking. But meeting him at Union Square, both of us smiling widely as we gave the light hello-kiss, the walk to the restaurant was filled with silly playfulness. Catching each other looking at discarded furniture in the trash, me teasing about how the restaurant wasn't where he said it was, then him teasing me about not knowing my own neighborhood, and noticing what a handsome face he has. Solid, expressive, and eyes that could keep my attention for many years. Dinner was good - tasty, relaxed, and then we slowly walked toward my home. We hadn't discussed going there, and we both work in the morning, but it was a good night for a walk, and when we got to Avenue C, he was very nostalgic about when he lived down here, and couldn't believe how much it had changed, all the bars and restaurants (actually, at one point he exclaimed, rather loudly, "where did all these white people come from? Who are all you white people?" - until I reminded him of his whiteness, and we fell into a laughing hug).