November 28, 2011 § 8 Comments
I may just start picking fights just for make up sex. Well okay, no not really. Because it was a day from hell, followed by another day from hell. Anyway, it was a fight over nothing in particular. C has been in a fucking miserable mood since trying to get stuff from his parents house and they trashed all the shit he had there. And yes, I am fucking getting what a fucked up thing that is to do. But it’s another thing to have to deal with his miserable ass when he is in a mood. I mean it’s like he’s got a beef with everyone. And he usually does. But usually it is said with some comedic value, or I can turn it that way. But in a grocery store when a kid is having a melt down, being a dick to already stressed out dad really is… Well, being a dick. Yeah, so maybe his kid is spoiled, maybe she isn’t, but your fucking unsolicited commentary was not helping nor was it going to move anything along. Anyway, then he got pissed off at an asshole comment one of my drunk friends made at the bar that night. And of course I am somehow responsible for my douchebag friend making a nasty comment on our relationship. It was probably intended as a joke. But since it does happen to touch on a subject we are already kinda working through it did not make it as a a funny thing to say. Anyway we were snapping and bitching at each other which led to a full out fight. After a miserable shift at work we did manage to talk through the stupidity. And I don’t know if it is the tension release or what, but make up sex… Okay not quite make it worth the fight, but pretty fucking close.
August 18, 2011 § 8 Comments
So, last night I get a phone call to say my parents are spending the night at my grandparents because the boys were asleep. Ahhhh, air conditioning, no parents, sounds like C’s spending the night. After a bit of prodding he comes over. Okay, a shit load of prodding actually. He gets all bitchy about my parents, well my dad, not being over fond of him. Dad was pissy about C staying over while they were at the cottage. Well, fuck, they asked me to look after the place and if they think I was doing that and NOT taking advantage. Seriously?
Anyway, finally convinced him to come over. We take off after about 30 seconds or so to my room. So things are going quite well. You may say we are getting along well and playing nicetogether, very nice indeed. Then a fucking car in the driveway, accompanied by a scream that tells me this is no lost car turning around in our driveway. The parents are definitely home with a very pissed off Casey in tow.
Well C is off me in a heartbeat and scrambling for his clothes when I remind him that his car is in the driveway anyway, so he is going nowhere fast. “Just go down and turn on the TV.” So I hear the TV about 20 seconds before the parents open the door. Whew, close one. I got cleaned up and dressed soooo fucking fast as I hear my mom asking Chris how he is doing. I come down the stairs, trying to walk as if my ankles were not doubling as ear muff three minutes earlier.
Almost got away without competely embarrassing ourselves, until commercial is over on television. When C came over I was watching a movie on OUT tv. Well, at 2 AM the channel tends to turn a little bit more “adult”. So suddenly a review on a new sex toy. I don’t know what was funnier, the look of horror on C’s face as the loud voice on the television warned about “make sure you use plenty of lubrication”, or my mother trying not to laugh. Chris went home about 40 seconds later.
So this morning I sent him a text : “My parents are out of town, wanna come over?”
“I H8 U” Obviously a accidental pocket text:P
August 16, 2011 § 11 Comments
Okay, this may get disgustingly sappy. I apologize if I make you puke. Seriously.
I was thinking the other day of things that make C different than other guys I’ve dated. I mean beyond the physical. Don’t get me wrong, I freaking LOVE sex. But it’s… well sex. It can mean something, and then it can just be a means to get off. Depends on what you want it to mean really. And the bottom line is no matter what words or feelings you attribute it to it is a physical, mutually satisfying (hopefully) thing. And if you don’t get it from someone else, well, you have other means at your disposal. In short sex is a physical thing that we attribute value to, or not. Funny how we bone, fuck and screw until the one we are serious about and then suddenly the language switches. Not for this boy. Let’s call a spade a shovel, fuck tact, If I use the words “make love” I really will puke. But intimacy can take different forms.
Last night it was hot (the weather that is). C was tired. I was tired. I’m stretched out so not one inch of skin is touching. Too fucking hot. I kicked Nelson out of the bedroom earlier. Nothing worse that cat fur sticking to you. Ewww. Nelson has an instant draw to anyone in the bed, he thinks cuddle time. We’ve tried keeping him out of the bedroom altogether, but shutting the door means no airflow in the apartment. So we just kick him out at night, usually requiring digging under the bed on hands and knees, C on one side me on the other as Nelson stubbornly sits right smack dab in the middle so the only way to get him out is to actually crawl under the bed, at such time in a flurry of cat fur and attitude he just leaves, leaving me to wriggle out from amongst the dust bunnies and cat fur tumbleweeds. Anyway, I digress.
So after a cool shower I am stretched out, Chris is laying there. Then he does it. He puts his and on my lower back and just rubs his thumb there. First time he did that I thought he was trying to test the waters, it was about 45 degrees and I was thinking “You’ve gotta be fucking shitting me,” because NO fucking way was sex gonna happen. But no. It’s just something he started doing. It’s something that is just weirdly him. A little piece of intimacy I find I wait for now. If it doesn’t happen I know something is going on. Usually just stupid shit that he will eventually spill with very little prodding, then just say “It doesn’t matter.” And it usually doesn’t once it’s out, and his hand is back. I don’t know if it is just that I bother to ask that makes him feel better, it’s not like he gets upset or unloads huge angsty monologues. “What’s up with you?”
“Might be layoffs next week.”
“No,just for a couple weeks. Fuck it, It doesn’t matter.” Then that’s it. Nothing solved, but suddenly it’s okay. His hand is on my back and he’s asleep in minutes.