This weekend was fun, for whatever reason, I am getting lucky this month when it comes to meeting men and such. Friday I stayed in, mostly, except for a dinner outing with some high school friends. After which I went home and caught up on my homework (far less pathetic than it sounds). Well, I should clarify, I went over to the ex’s (VJ) and commenced with the giving of snuggles and cuddle-fucks. Then went out to dinner with friends (local sushi place). I find myself in a weird place now, this past year I had few expenses (pay rent, cell phone, done.) and now I find myself with books, college worries for next year, and I am no longer among the wealthy Jew crew of my past. I find myself going over expenses and bank statements, and taking 10 minutes or so to ponder my cell phone bill. It all feels very…adult, and I am not sure that I like it. It’s stupid really I don’t want to be a child, but I am not ready to start living on my own (well emotionally anyway). But, that time is approaching. So Saturday i woke up late and went finished the scraps of my CIS homework, hit the gym, and finished reading my women’s studies chapters. All in time for 9:00, when I got dressed and went to the eagle (I like the eagle, sort of). I was going to meet a dom from online, but PnP (the use of drugs, where no drug use is needed) was brought up so I steered clear. Okay so it’s weird, ain’t it? A day after I chill with kids I knew when I was 16, I hang out with a 53 y/o man that I chest punch in a bar. My life feels very sectional sometimes in that way. And as bad as it is to say, I like it that way. There’s a cheap thrill I get when I can anecdotally tell a friend I got tied up (leaving out the parts that really terrify). Something fun about having a secret identity. At the eagle I met up with Red, we fooled around a bit (punches in kisses, kid stuff). I love just the simple act of chest punching a man at a bar, it’s indicative of sex, without pretension (I want you so much I need to hit you). I was going to piss on him, but then I decided to roam around the bar (I find it hard to be in one place to long of a time). I wound up seeing a man with a shirt that carried the London Hoist bar’s logo. I complimented him on it. He smiled, asked if I had been (I haven’t), we got to talking, I asked if it was his hang out for the “leather, the levis, or the hoist part” he twisted my hand slightly and smiled. He asked if I wanted to fool around, I consented, informed Red of my plans, then left. I will finish this latter, lunch with Red becons
- posted by G @ 12:53 PM