I'm feeling close to you right now. Wanna cuddle and share? I'll start. Remember that old college buddy of mine? When last we saw him he was jacking me off at the multiplex. Up to speed? I've been thinking about him ever since my simulated Gap dressing room stripper was in his spitting image. Well, kind of a blend of him and Tony Almeida from 24. He and I spent about 6 months dropping our collective nuts with each other. To be honest, it was mostly me dropping mine on him. He was usually getting finished off by his girlfriend later. It was a confusing time for a naive country boy. I ran into him recently at a seminar and later we had dinner with his current woman in tow. It was a pleasant evening with authentic Italian fare, good wine and sparkling conversation. You'll excuse my disappointment that the evening ended with a hug this time instead of a pearl necklace. I guess it's true. You can't go back home.
O.K. Your turn.
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4 comments:
I'll bite, you already know how I like to share.
I had a major crush on my two closest friends at school. Michael was Greek, tanned, curly haired and gorgeous in a way that young physically precocious Greek guys can be. My other friend Oleh was Ukrainian, vastly broad shouldered and slim hipped, with a beautiful tush. I never got to fool around with Oleh, although we did go to the nude beach a few times and I would go home and have a great, albeit lonely, masturbatory time. Michael and I used to give each other a helping hand, but I always wanted more intimacy than he was prepared for.
Both guys were great when I told them I was gay at age 15, but the hand-jobs with Michael came to an abrupt end. Now we are all approaching middle age, and I haven't seen Michael for years, but I still remember how silky and warm his skin was.
My first love may have lacked the cinematic beauty of blushing emotion and fumbling tenderness, I'll admit. Even in my own head it's very After School Special, with the attendant stilted acting and poor production values that implies. But damned if I don't still hold a place in my heart for that confused Marky Mark lookin' muthafucka.
I was very lucky in this department. Rather than After School Special, my whole first love experience was, like, Back Room at the Video Store. The dialogue was often kinda lame (although occasionally brilliant and always bizarre), but the rest of it was hot.
She was a couple years older than me; we were in high school. I'd known her for about a month when my 16th birthday rolled around and for such occasion, she gave me a boy whom I wanted very much. We shared the boy. About a week later, we decided boys were extraneous. Fun and cute, but optional. I haven't seen her in...13 years. Haven't kissed her in 18 years. But I'll never forget anything about any of it.
-Jen
So sweet, Jen. Those memories are branded on us, aren't they? I wonder if I get to feel that intensity again.
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