(no subject)
The JOYS of gay sex...
Feeling v. happy about finally being in the same country as my boyfriend, I looked forward to a week of non-stop sex that didn't include our cell phones. Except he was in the middle of finishing his solo album. Which I was totally supportive of, of course.
So here is what I call The Week My Boyfriend Worked on His New Album and I Was Being Very Supportive. The condensed version.
Day one: Am v. understanding and let Chris work in his studio because being a musician myself I understand exactly what it's like to finish an album. Talk to him on the phone for a minute and try to be as encouraging as I can.
Day two: Chris still in studio working away. I ask him if he at least would like to go out to dinner that evening. He says no. I stay in and organize my sneakers.
Day three: Sneakers now in very handy order, by manufanturer and also alphabetized. Call Chris for phone sex possibility. He sings me one of his songs over the phone. I decide he needs more time alone. Consider organizing sneakers by color instead.
Day four: Chris have not come out of studio all day. Everytime I call him he's having a phone convo with some producer/record company/local pizza place. Consider organizing sneakers in some other way instead of color, maybe going from least dirty to most dirty, with the most dirty in the back where I don't have to look at them and want to cry everytime. Also consider therapy.
Day five: Get up at noon, drive over to Chris's house, go inside and drag him out of the studio. "I can't take this anymore," I say while trying to swoon in his arms and drag him to the kitchen table all at once. "Have sex with me!"
"Justin, I need to finish this."
"I understand, I do, really, but it will only take five minutes. Four! Then you can go back to doing the album, okay, just please do me FIRST!"
He raises his eyebrows at me. Agree this is not my finest moment. Is beyond the point of caring.
Get hand-job in kitchen. Life is good. Purrrrr.
Day six: Woke up horny despite last night's success. Chris still working. Fuck. Why couldn't my boyfriend just be uncreative and unemployed?
Day seven: Last day of Chris in the studio! The drought is over! I wake up and drive over to his house in a great mood for the first time in a week. I located him in his kitchen, having breakfast, looking all rumpled and tired and sexy! He smiles when he sees me and I can barely control myself.
"God-I-missed-you-come-here-big-boy!"
"Justin, I'm tired."
"No no no, I'll do all the work. You just sit right there, and I'll put my leg around you like this, and-"
"Justin!" He's laughing at me. "You're gonna make me spill my coffee!"
I know I'm pouting when I climb off him but come on, We've only been together a few short months and already he prefers his coffee over me! "I've hardly seen you all week," I say instead. "I'm horny. I'm 23."
"Well, I'm not."
"What the hell does THAT mean?"
He looks at me for a moment, head tilted, smiling a little. He smells GREAT. I quickly swallow before I start drooling all over his pants leg.
"Well," he says as I'm contemplating where I should stick my tongue first. "I just don't have that much sex drive anymore."
I quickly draw back and put my tongue carefully back in my mouth, before choking. "You...what?"
"I'm over 30 now. I just don't want sex that much anymore. You knew that would happen, right?"
I feel my legs getting weak and my head spinning. "I DID NOT! Oh god! Why? Why didn't I start having sex with you the minute I met you.”
"You were fourteen and I was..."
"WHY? Why did I wait all this TIME?"
"Justin..."
But I'm not interested in what he might have to say, as am busy freaking the fuck out. "So that's it, then? I FINALLY realize I'm in LOVE with my BEST FRIEND and I discover the JOYS of gay sex and now after only a few months of dating you lose all interest in me and you fall asleep with your back to me and I have to start looking for satisfaction elsewhere..."
"Justin, baby..."
"...hanging on Internet chatrooms and eyeing the guys who serve me coffee and- Oh my god, I'm going to become JC!"
"Justin, I was kidding!"
I stop mid-rant and stare at him. "What?"
"I was joking. I was winding you up. I just thought it would be fun to pretend that...I just didn't know you would get so upset."
"YOU WERE JOKING?" I can't believe it. The bastard's smiling! Though it quickly fades when I grab him by his shirt collar and shake him. Seven days of pent up frustration and no-sex except for a quicky in the kitchen. I don't think I'm overreacting. "You thought that was FUNNY?"
"I'm...Justin, I'm so so sorry."
"You BETTER be!"
The good things is he spends the next few hours fucking me into oblivion. Just to reassure me. Whee!
I should freak out more often. Though now I'm sure Chris wants me to consider therapy too.
And that was my week. Well, the important bits anyway.
Feeling v. happy about finally being in the same country as my boyfriend, I looked forward to a week of non-stop sex that didn't include our cell phones. Except he was in the middle of finishing his solo album. Which I was totally supportive of, of course.
So here is what I call The Week My Boyfriend Worked on His New Album and I Was Being Very Supportive. The condensed version.
Day one: Am v. understanding and let Chris work in his studio because being a musician myself I understand exactly what it's like to finish an album. Talk to him on the phone for a minute and try to be as encouraging as I can.
Day two: Chris still in studio working away. I ask him if he at least would like to go out to dinner that evening. He says no. I stay in and organize my sneakers.
Day three: Sneakers now in very handy order, by manufanturer and also alphabetized. Call Chris for phone sex possibility. He sings me one of his songs over the phone. I decide he needs more time alone. Consider organizing sneakers by color instead.
Day four: Chris have not come out of studio all day. Everytime I call him he's having a phone convo with some producer/record company/local pizza place. Consider organizing sneakers in some other way instead of color, maybe going from least dirty to most dirty, with the most dirty in the back where I don't have to look at them and want to cry everytime. Also consider therapy.
Day five: Get up at noon, drive over to Chris's house, go inside and drag him out of the studio. "I can't take this anymore," I say while trying to swoon in his arms and drag him to the kitchen table all at once. "Have sex with me!"
"Justin, I need to finish this."
"I understand, I do, really, but it will only take five minutes. Four! Then you can go back to doing the album, okay, just please do me FIRST!"
He raises his eyebrows at me. Agree this is not my finest moment. Is beyond the point of caring.
Get hand-job in kitchen. Life is good. Purrrrr.
Day six: Woke up horny despite last night's success. Chris still working. Fuck. Why couldn't my boyfriend just be uncreative and unemployed?
Day seven: Last day of Chris in the studio! The drought is over! I wake up and drive over to his house in a great mood for the first time in a week. I located him in his kitchen, having breakfast, looking all rumpled and tired and sexy! He smiles when he sees me and I can barely control myself.
"God-I-missed-you-come-here-big-boy!"
"Justin, I'm tired."
"No no no, I'll do all the work. You just sit right there, and I'll put my leg around you like this, and-"
"Justin!" He's laughing at me. "You're gonna make me spill my coffee!"
I know I'm pouting when I climb off him but come on, We've only been together a few short months and already he prefers his coffee over me! "I've hardly seen you all week," I say instead. "I'm horny. I'm 23."
"Well, I'm not."
"What the hell does THAT mean?"
He looks at me for a moment, head tilted, smiling a little. He smells GREAT. I quickly swallow before I start drooling all over his pants leg.
"Well," he says as I'm contemplating where I should stick my tongue first. "I just don't have that much sex drive anymore."
I quickly draw back and put my tongue carefully back in my mouth, before choking. "You...what?"
"I'm over 30 now. I just don't want sex that much anymore. You knew that would happen, right?"
I feel my legs getting weak and my head spinning. "I DID NOT! Oh god! Why? Why didn't I start having sex with you the minute I met you.”
"You were fourteen and I was..."
"WHY? Why did I wait all this TIME?"
"Justin..."
But I'm not interested in what he might have to say, as am busy freaking the fuck out. "So that's it, then? I FINALLY realize I'm in LOVE with my BEST FRIEND and I discover the JOYS of gay sex and now after only a few months of dating you lose all interest in me and you fall asleep with your back to me and I have to start looking for satisfaction elsewhere..."
"Justin, baby..."
"...hanging on Internet chatrooms and eyeing the guys who serve me coffee and- Oh my god, I'm going to become JC!"
"Justin, I was kidding!"
I stop mid-rant and stare at him. "What?"
"I was joking. I was winding you up. I just thought it would be fun to pretend that...I just didn't know you would get so upset."
"YOU WERE JOKING?" I can't believe it. The bastard's smiling! Though it quickly fades when I grab him by his shirt collar and shake him. Seven days of pent up frustration and no-sex except for a quicky in the kitchen. I don't think I'm overreacting. "You thought that was FUNNY?"
"I'm...Justin, I'm so so sorry."
"You BETTER be!"
The good things is he spends the next few hours fucking me into oblivion. Just to reassure me. Whee!
I should freak out more often. Though now I'm sure Chris wants me to consider therapy too.
And that was my week. Well, the important bits anyway.