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| mask, street faire, san francisco, ca july 2011 |
the writer had a way with words. his slow seduction started in august and continued through november of last year. he delighted with me when i got the position at the middle school, and he calmed me through the busiest and most stressful of days.
he waited for me after work to tell him how my day was, and i stayed up way past my bedtime to listen to his story.
he loved the way i laughed; i loved the way he painted pictures with his carefully chosen descriptions. he left socal to spend weeks at his parents home in the midwest; i spent hours listening to his anxieties. he sent me pictures of his tattoos; i sent him pictures of me in my white tank top.
one day, i was a bit tipsy, and i called him, and he chided me about how i slurred my words. he loved wine, but i was drinking beer from a small little place that brewed its own stuff in camarillo.
i took pictures for him; he wrote for me. we agreed on nothing; we understood each others language. for a little while.
when he came back to la after six weeks, he was different. he stayed away from me, and i didnt pursue. he was going through his own hell, as was i, and we separated quietly. this was in november.
in february, he wrote to me and two others thanking us for checking up on him. he mentioned something about us being his hope and shit. in march, he wrote to me about his pain in a language that was beautiful and obscure, meaningful only to him. in april, he wrote to me about the night. it was only five words. in may, he sent me an obsure text message. in june, i sent him a text about how beautiful that summer night was.
he asked me then to go for a walk with him. i declined. he called me, and we spent forty five minutes negotiating a time for me to meet him. i succumbed.
there are rules, he said as he entered me from behind. but im getting ahead of myself so ill go back to a few hours earlier.
he opened my car door for me at the corner of green street and lake avenue, and we owned the night. there was an invisible space neither of us dared to investigate for fear of making physical contact with each other. however, after a comment i made, he stopped me in the middle of the street.
just say whats on your mind, m. no matter what it is. let me have it, he said looking into my eyes.
so i explained how he hurt me by disappearing, and as he listened, he looked at me intently. when i finished, he said, is that all?
yes, i said. i wont bring it up again.
well, you werent innocent, either, you know. you left, too.
there is no blame here. im simply following your request to let you have it.
we began to walk again, the conversation lighter. three blocks passed before he stopped me, turned my body to face his, and he lifted my chin to kiss me.
it was fucking romantic. i almost gagged.
he somehow managed to push me against a brick wall, his hands in my hair, his tongue dancing with mine, and i let him.
when he pulled away, he smiled.
i took him to an amazing campus, found a beautiful courtyard, and we watched the moon. we sat on a bench, and he pulled me closer. kissing him was sweet. hearing his story was bittersweet. he was lost, like i was that night. he didnt have a path. i knew mine, but i was resistant to following it. i am no longer.
we walked to a clearing, laid on the grass, and he pulled me over him. i can feel him aroused, and i unbuttoned his jeans to slip my hand in. a student with lights on his backpack walked by us, so we stopped and made plans to go back to his place.
he let me in, and i was grateful he didnt turn on the lights. my eyes would have hurt from adjusting from dark to light. he kissed me on the couch, undressing me down to my tank top. he spread my legs and tasted me. i could not and did not protest. instead, i came twice on his lips.
he got up, and he lead me to his balcony, and he whispered, all those nights we talked on the phone, the way you turned me on, i knew i would have to fuck you out here.
he faced me against the stuccoed wall, lifted my leg, and slipped his fingers in me. there was the shadow of a man on the window across the way, but the writer didnt care. he wanted me to cum again. he worked against my anxiety and excitement.
finally, he gently led me to his bedroom, and we laid on the floor. he let me sleep for a little while in his arms. i wanted to leave, but my fatigue and comfort with him won out.
when the sun began to rise, he kissed me awake. he flipped me over to my stomach, put on a condom, and entered me. he came fast, grabbing my hair as he did. his handprint on my shoulder was visible as i got dressed to leave.
when we said goodbye, i held him longer than necessary. i knew i wont see him again.
*****
a few weeks later, i met the cinematographer at my favorite downtown la cafe. i was running late, and he was finishing up tea.
he had unruly blond hair, glasses, and a melodically deep voice. we walked around the arts district with my camera, and he told me how to frame shots of the street art that decorate the walls of abandoned buildings.
we stopped at a street that was dark, a street that i had gone with the 30 year old to photograph last summer before i left for san francisco. i didnt want to walk that street again, telling him it was too dark, but really because the memories of that night began to fill me too quickly.
come on, he coaxed. theres nothing to be afraid of. ill protect you.
its too dark, j. really. can we go around?
no, its only a few feet of darkness til we get to that driveway.
so, i was a trooper. i walked with my eyes straight ahead, not looking at the mural that the 30 year old and i spent an hour and half photographing with my camera on my tripod.
on another street, j and i sat on a bench and created scenarios of the people who lived in the lofts in front of us. it was funny, and he seemed to be relaxing. i was beginning to.
we walked to a bar, and we ordered two glasses of beer. we tried to ignore the drunken slobs at the next table. we spoke of summer plans, of traveling, of his sisters wedding.
but it was getting late, so i took him back to his car in mine, and i turned off the engine when i was parallel to his. i thanked him for the night, and i said, i wish you didnt have to cut off your hair for the wedding.
i ran my hands through his hair. he moved closer. i pulled him to me and before his lips touched mine, i whispered, im going to kiss you now, if thats all right.
he nodded and let me. we pulled away, looking at each other stunned. then swiftly, he put his hand on the back of my head, and he met me half way. it was frantic, hungry, sloppy.
when we stopped, he said, im going home now. id like for you to join me.
okay. lead the way.
he kissed me before he left my car, and twenty minutes later, i was parking my car on his street.
his house was two blocks from another favorite place of mine, and i remember admiring it once a few years back. the living room was spacious, but it spilled awkwardly in what i thought was the dining room, which was across from his bedroom.
he went to the bathroom to clean up, and when he came out, it was my turn. he was lying on the bed, and he asked me to join him. when i was snuggled under the blanket, he asked me what movie i wanted to watch. he chose one that i had seen with my son.
i laid there, wanting to leave, as he cuddled me closer. my senses screamed, what the fuck? get us out of here now!!!
he must have sensed my discomfort, so he kissed me again, and as he leaned down over me, i moved to my back. he kissed me, and then he sucked my nipples, and i grabbed him before he got any lower.
whats wrong? am i not doing something to your liking? he asked.
i smiled and explained that i wasnt comfortable with someone new eating me. he waited to see how serious i was. he waited as his fingers moved me to orgasm. he put his fingers to his mouth and licked them.
he grabbed a condom from the drawer. before i knew it, i was cumming on his cock. and when he came, he laid on top of me for a few seconds. he went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth to clean me up.
i was about to excuse myself for the night, but he began talking, and soon, i knew he had fallen asleep. i was exhausted, and the beer was strong for a system that hadnt eaten, so i too caved in to slumber.
we woke up at the same time, and then he was in me, fucking me from behind. when he went to clean up, i was getting ready to leave.
where are you going? he asked.
home. the sun is already waking up.
he pulled me back to bed, but i resisted, so he put on his jeans to walk me to the door.
youre fun ,i said. thanks for hanging out.
thank you. youre fun, too.
he hugged me hard, and i didnt let go so quickly. i smelled me on his hair, and i knew he would smell me on his pillows.
*****
the first of two trips to san francisco was sandwiched between fucking the hiker. he has the biggest cock, and he knows how to use it.
he wants to fuck me in the ass, but ive declined sweetly. his size is just not apt for backdoor loving, but hes persistent. patient. but persistent.
fucking him the night before my trip was, as always, good. but it has become routine, and ive become bored. still, he fucked me hard, and he reveled in my orgasms. that was nice, but this between us has lost its spark for me. laughter and talking, the basis of my fondness for him, was few and far in between. we werent silent, but it wasnt the same.
when i left for san francisco the next day with my son, i was exhausted. as soon as i dropped the boy off at his fathers in sacramento six hours later, i was running on fumes. but when i felt the cool from the bay 75 miles later, i had gotten my second wind.
i love my city by the bay, and i loved the hotel room that would house me for three nights. i sat at the balcony after washing up, and i remembered nothing about la. the hiker texted me a few times, and he requested two pictures: one of the bed, the other of my vibrator.
when i sent those off, i slept well into the next day. i made plans of meeting with my cousine and her two boys. when i stepped off the bart and walked the five blocks to where she was, it was dinnertime. we went to an awesome seafood place, and the boy child and i were enamored of each other. oh, thomas the tank, you do not know how i used you to get this kids attention.
they dropped me off a few hours later, and i felt empty and alone in my hotel room. i slept it off, and i went to the city the next day. i rushed to a mass at noon at an awesome church in chinatown. then i walked my circuit from north beach to ghirardelli square, and then back to the embarcadero.
the next day, i hung out with my cousine, just us girls, and we had lunch at a vietnamese place at the mall. i fell in love with vietnamese coffee, and i have been hunting for it here since. i am disappointed because i havent found a place that served it to my liking.
we watched a freaking hilarious movie. i liked this one better than the first. and no, they werent the same. the second one was way good.
after the movie, we met up with the two boys and had dinner in north beach before i drove back to my hotel. the next day, i hung out until the afternoon where i drove to the city for a quick meeting with a man. after the meeting, i had dinner with my cousine, and i told her all about it.
i love living vicariously through you. you have great adventures, she said.
sometimes, i responded.
that night, i drove to sebastopol. the hotel was on a major street, but at one in the morning, it was crazy deserted, and the parking lot was a bit dark and scary. i used my suitcase to prop the door to the hotel open, and i ran to it after i parked my car.
the next day, i drove to bodega bay because the argentinian had said once how romantic it was. i hated it. the drive there was beautiful, though, very scenic, but i felt mislead by bodega bay. i messaged the argentinian to tell him so. he was surprised.
i drove home to la the next day. the 30 year old called me. he was in new york, and he needed my friendship. we talked for awhile about God, about how uninspired i had been, how i havent been able to photograph. he was encouraging, and we made plans to hang out soon.
i stopped at the mission san juan bautista, but it was under construction, so parts of it were closed. but i snapped pictures and sent them to the 30 year old, and he wrote, look at you taking pictures. im so happy for you, friend.
thanks, friend, its because of your support, i messaged back.
the hiker and i began an exchange of texts that were at first casual and friendly but changed to sexy and erotic. we made plans for me to see him when i got into town.
the drive back was long and hot. i was in some beautiful 60 degree weather in norcal, but central california was at a dismal 90 + degrees for a good 4 hours of driving.
when i finally got in to his city, i was tired and sweaty.
he opened the gate, and he was smiling widely. he grabbed me to give me a hug, but i pushed him away. inside, we sat down on the sofa, and he leaned in to kiss me. i hate to admit, but i love his kisses.
he pulled off my hoodie and lifted my tank. he unbuttoned my jean shorts, but i stopped him.
whats wrong? he asked.
i want to shower first.
let me taste you, and then you can clean up.
no, come on. i feel hot and sticky.
good. he pushed my hands out of the way as i tried to pull my pants up. i heard kids in the pool.
i got up from the couch to go take a shower, but he caught me, and he laid me on the floor. he was on top of me, kissing me, and i was feeling a bit dizzy. maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was him, but i needed air.
i went to his balcony, and he came up behind me. he grabbed my hand and lead me to his room.
he pushed me on the bed, and i didnt want to resist his tongue. he licked me as his fingers found my ass, and he continued until i came.
i was too tired to fight him, so i let him undress me. he fucked me hard, and i let out a yell that surprised us both. i came many times like i always do, but after, all i wanted to do is sleep. we used to stay up all night talking and laughing. and fucking. now, not so much.
we fell asleep. it was still dark three hours later when he moved me down to his cock. i sucked it the way i knew he loved, and i did the things i knew he loved me to do. he pulled me on top of him, and he fucked me this way. neither of us were fully awake.
i moved off of him, and i fell asleep again. in the morning, when we woke up, he fucked me hard, and we both came. he cleaned me up, and i got dressed and left his place.
*****
i dont want to see him again, but today, he has been persistent. he accuses me of being difficult to woo, of not taking him seriously when he says he wants me. i told him, dont fall in love with me, please.
too late, he replied. this is why i dont take him seriously. because he plays too much.
i was an ass to him earlier. he was stung. he asked me if i was sleeping with someone else. i didnt answer. its none of his business.
*****
but the answer is no. there hasnt been anyone since the last time i was with him.
while my body hasnt been violated by another, my mind and attention have been reserved for one.
the situation is less than ideal. he is geographically undesirable, he is not available, he is a dilf.
he is in my dreams, in my inbox, in my thoughts throughout the day.
i crave to feel his breath in my hair, to have his hands all over me, to have an opportunity for him to make my skin sing.
will it happen, i do not know. i do not want to think too far ahead. actually, i do not even want to think.
i just want to be.
with him.
there is something about his essence that feels familiar to me.
it is too late into the night to analyze that.
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