I haven’t had proper sex in a while. One of the last 2 guys that I messed around with, upon my leaving after ejaculating on his bathroom floor, shouting out to my back “bastard”. Francis was his name, a novelist, who prided himself on having written one which received comparison to Catcher in the Rye, a gay equivalent to be more precise. His train of thoughts, which couldn’t stop from jumping from one place to another at rocket speed, which reminded me of my good old buddy Matt, or of Holden Caulfield himself.
“You should feel honored, receiving such reviews,” I said, giving a smirking undertone to the compliment. It was my 2nd drink.
I don’t celebrate Christmas. But lot of people here do. It’s just a bit lonely seeing people cozying up against each other’s flesh and bones, especially when I got invited to a fancy wedding by the biggest lake in town. It was beautiful, the reception and also the bride. 5 or 6 years ago, I was still trying set her up with my “cousin” Minh, who was also my first real boyfriend. I could tell that he was enjoying the stardom within our tiny college, boosted by her reputation as well as my propagandizing. It was good time.
Now she was getting married to a guy whom she dated for barely over the course of a year, after her romance with another guy in my office (who was super hot) didn’t end up well. The other guy, from my point of view, was nothing adventurous and rather following the pathway his family had laid out for him, or in other words, not her match. But who I was to speak, especially when I wasn’t an insider.
Anyway, there was unlimited wine and beer. And the food was marvelous. What was even more so was the fact that I met the law teacher guy again. We sat next to each other, and I was glad he was less reserved about my presence after he found out what I turned out to be, different from his expectation, about 1.5 year back. I asked him to go for some beer again, which he refused gently. He went home with his group of friends, leaving me a text. “You should go home too,” it said.
The driving path embracing the lake was cold, especially when on the very road was places where past lovers and friends had resided. Mark was the 2nd one. We talked on Grindr while I was reading the book Alan gave me more than a year ago at the lounge of the restaurant. We met at a jazz club. He bought me drinks and put up with my mean remarks at almost anything. It was in no that he got used to it and started firing them back my way.
We walked while the crowd started to evacuate from the street to find shelters. I was usually a few paces ahead. He sucked me a bit in a fancy hotel’s restroom.
We found our own place in his hotel room. I was on my 4th cigarettes of the night and God know what drink. I was never a big drinker and smoker anyway. But those ideas did appeal to me back in college, when everyone was practicing such habits, in order to be cool, or to be seen as a romanticist struggling with deep thoughts.
I was very aware of what we did. He gave me head. He asked me to give him head. He kissed me a lot. My neck, and especially my ears. He was cute but not hot. In the dark, I couldn’t tell how he looked like. But I could tell that whatever things he was doing to my ears, it was sloppy, sweet and gently. He could make me cum just by doing that.
He asked me to stay, but of course I didn’t. It was almost 3 am. He walked with me to the place where I left my vehicle. I didn’t say much that night, our only one night. Later I found out that he was looking for something else rather than sex, and he wanted to hang out rather than pushing each other around the bed. I was angry since I thought I would get laid. He was angry since he thought I was a different kind of person.
“Thank you for making Christmas less lonely,” I told him before we said our final goodbye in person. I knew that I really meant it.