I read Sean’s latest blog – http://havenofthought.wordpress.com/2013/09/04/an-amazing-day-a-flat-tire/ – and I just love his enthusiasm and can feel his joy through his words as he dives deeper into his new and wonderful relationship. His blog tends to make me remember the only guy I’ve ever loved, makes me go back in time to examine a pivotal moment in my life and then to look at that moment, making my now-older (and slightly damaged) brain remember exacting details. Sometimes I just let the “tape” run from beginning to end – and without “rewinding” certain parts. And then there are times when I stop the tape in my head or, what would be a lot more accurate, cut out a section of the tape and loop it so that I can look at one moment only.
This moment, frozen in time, was the ten minutes we sat and talked about the way he felt about me and my reaction to his words and, yeah, his tears. At first, he puzzled me, telling me that he needed to talk to me about something very important to him, that he wanted my opinion or advice about a matter of the heart and that he wasn’t sure how to go about saying what he had to say.
I know I told him, “Just start at the beginning and say it, okay?” but I better understand how hard it must have been for him to tell a man that he was in love with him – and without any idea how he was going to react and, understandably, with the sure knowledge that some guys react very badly to such things. And we talked about just that, his fears of being rejected by this guy who he obviously had very deep feelings for and, honestly, at that point, I had no idea he was talking about me.
Let’s say that it took five minutes for me to convince him that it was okay to bare his thoughts and feelings to me and let’s say it took three minutes for him to get the words out of his mouth to tell me that he loved me. Those words hit me hard, you know, like that cold slap in the face or the shock you feel when you’ve been inside and in air conditioning and then you walk out into ninety degree heat. I took two seconds of that last two minutes to say, “I don’t know what to say…” and one minute, fifty-eight seconds letting this shock to my system flow through my mind and body, thinking about how totally insane it was to hear another man tell you that he loves you… and then the hard poke of reality that told me that, hey, it totally makes sense.
We’re now into the eleventh minute of our conversation and the part where he’s really afraid because I’ve been silent for what had to be an eternity; I can taste and feel his fear just as I can see his nervousness, not only in the way he was fiddling with his hands and fingers, but also in his blue eyes. In that moment, my own emotional state was in flux as my brain struggled to process what all of this meant but, really, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know what it meant, that “oh, shit!” moment of sudden joy when your brain stops what it’s doing for a moment because it has pieced together enough information for right now and while making itself a note to finish processing things afterwards.
He had asked me, at eleven minutes and thirty seconds, what I was going to do… and I thought it significant, when I thought about this later, that he didn’t ask me what I was thinking or feeling. I said to him, “There’s only one thing to do…;” I peeled him out of his clothes and made love to him. Not “have sex” or whatever euphemism you could use in that moment – my brain responded to the question by telling me, “Make love to him… because it’s the right thing to do about the way you’re feeling about him…”
See, I knew I was feeling something for him prior to this conversation; he was good-looking in a nerdy sort of way but I had long since learned not to just look at the book’s cover, using some sort of empathy or maybe intuition to peek at some of the pages in the book – the way he walked, taking a measurement of his intelligence, watching him move – stuff like that. There was something I liked about him, how he could be so focused and sure of himself one minute, and totally insecure the next. He confused me, really, making me examine my feelings and even why I had feelings for him in the first place but I had decided to set those thoughts aside for the time being… until we had this conversation and then everything fell into place and it all made sense.
I think about what I was thinking about once I got him naked; my joy, borne out of knowing that he loved me, was roaring in the background and, yeah, making me feel all tingly inside as I kissed him like I meant it. There was what I’d have to call a predatory rush – I could never think of anything that described this better – because I could feel his body trembling as I kissed my way down to his erection. I really wasn’t thinking as much as I was reacting to not only my feelings and that rather sudden rush of lust that kicked me in the kidneys, but to him, seeing both the fear and the desire in his eyes and the only real thought was knowing that my mind was recording all of this so I could examine it later… because I would need to because while it took me several years to fully assimilate this, I knew, at that moment, that this would change me forever.
Sex is kind of mindless and instinctual, even when it’s your first time with someone new. Of course, what we were doing wasn’t new to either of us; it was amusing for me to learn days later that I had had more sex with men than he did – and he was gay. But when love is involved – and even if, in the beginning, you just think that it is – it makes that moment so very different. I could feel his emotions; I could feel him just giving himself to me and, yet again, it scared him (something he admitted to later). I brought him with my mouth and it was so much the same as any other time I’d done this but, at the same time, different and in ways that I really don’t have the words for except to say that in that moment of his release, I felt his joy; I felt whatever frustration he was feeling over wanting me like this just melt away… and that made me happy.
He went down on me and he was literally vibrating – whether it was from his release or his excessive nervousness I never figured out – but I watched him suck me and it was like watching someone suck cock for the first time. He was thrilled, nervous, and anxious; he wrapped a hand around me and I could feel his hand shaking, almost as if someone was touching my cock with a vibrator. I wanted to laugh at how nervous he was, how tentatively he started to lick me… and I don’t know why; it’s not like I hadn’t seen this nervousness before in guys but it was in guys doing this for the very first time and never in someone who had some experience… and I just thought it was funny but I didn’t laugh because I understood that while I found some humor in this, it was no laughing matter to him.
I could feel his hunger, his lust pounding at him as he got bolder and more confident; that he kept gagging when he tried to take all of me wasn’t funny – it made me very concerned but I said nothing because I just knew and/or felt his determination to bury his nose into my pubic hair. I could feel his joy as he worked on me and it made me smile because I understood it even though I didn’t know why I did. When I exploded into his mouth, well, that was really nice but my feelings for him made it feel even nicer than ever before… and then after I went soft in his mouth, he released me – and reluctantly – and he started to cry.
It unnerved me a little; okay, it unnerved me more than just a little. It took me a few moments to get my brain back online so that I could realize and understand that he was crying tears of joy. I held him as he cried, his tears hot on my chest and while I felt like I had to say something – even if it was just, “Everything’s okay…” – I didn’t say a thing because at that moment, there wasn’t a need to say anything… so I just held him for an immeasurable amount of time until he got a grip on himself. He started moving south right after he said – and I might even say pleaded – that he wanted me to fuck him.
I really had my doubts about being able to get it up so soon after my release – that refraction thing can be such a pain in the ass because your mind is always willing to go again and your body is really not trying to hear it and it wasn’t like I was twelve or thirteen, you know? He went back down on me – carefully, I might add – and I thought, “He’s really been wanting this for a long time…” and, how about that, he had me up and ready! I’d be amazed at that later on but in that moment, I was… happy, my joy racing through me unfettered, my newly-realized love for him just washing over me in waves. Those of you who have been through this kind of moment – and sexuality notwithstanding – knows exactly what I’m talking about, that difference between having sex with someone ‘casually’ as opposed to having sex with someone you have deep feelings for.
Aw…. what a rush…
Once again, I could feel his fear, his anticipation, his nervousness as I got into position above him, looking into his reddened blue eyes… and we really connected in that moment. At the moment I drove myself into him – and looking into his eyes the entire time – my only thought was, “Yes… this feels right.” Okay, the fact that he started crying again – and I knew it wasn’t because I was hurting him – was really doing a number on me, taking me out of autopilot mode and making me really pay attention to him as I moved inside his body – that was really weird for me but I realized later that I had done this before… but only with women… so that I was so totally locked onto his eyes and reading all of his emotions was, in fact, something new to me because, with other guys, hell, you stuff it in him, close your eyes, lower your head, and fuck him until you cum and thank you for letting me to do this to you.
He was babbling, not really talking to me but more like muttering to himself as I got into that kneeling position that would allow me to remain deeply inside of him and stroke him into hardness at the same time – and my eyes never left his eyes. He said, “No, please don’t…” and I knew that he didn’t want me to stop what I was doing, just like I somehow knew that the reason he said that was because of how it was going to make him feel; it ramped up his fear – even though that’s not really what he was feeling but, to me, that’s what it felt like. It told me something I didn’t figure out until much later that he was a submissive and that his very being was calling to me to dominate him, to just take him as I wanted to and to impose my will upon him…
And I did… and it was so unlike me in this situation. In fact, even as he spurted all over my hand, I was very much ashamed of myself because he was begging and pleading for me to not make him feel what he was feeling… and I was telling him to shut the fuck up because I would make him feel whatever the fuck I wanted to make him feel – and then did just that… and it was such a fucking rush, my friends, and so much of one it made me feel badly – but so very good – after the fact.
I released inside him; he grimaced for a moment, then smiled and I could have sworn that I actually saw his eyes light up and all just before the tears started to flow again. I eventually pulled out of him, we held each other for a moment, and then cleaned ourselves up, got dressed and for a couple of minutes, just sat and looked at each other. I knew what I was feeling and what feelings had been confirmed in me just as I could feel what he was feeling because in the hour and fifteen minutes this whole thing took, I knew that we had just consummated our love for each other, a love he knew had lived inside of him and, before now, unrealized, and the love that I was truly surprised that I felt for him.
The rest, as it is said, was history. Again, I point to the magnificence that is the human brain and its ability to make me recall certain things in a very detailed way. Of course, over the interceding years, I’ve had plenty of time to go back into my memories of him and see stuff that I didn’t see in that moment, frozen in time, when I fell in love with another man for the first – and last – time in my life.
And I have Sean’s joy, as seen in his blog, to thank for this remembrance. Thank you for taking the time to read about this deeper peek inside my head. It brings back so many memories of that time which, for me and thanks to the stroke I had, is important because while I still have blank spots in my memories, I’m glad that this one, and in all its detail, remains intact…