Weekend with Men, part 1
May. 3rd, 2004 09:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talktoolooseI'm sitting at my desk in my cubicle after returning from Upstate New York and a men's gathering this past weekend. But first: the best random-word spam subject line of the morning: "fun carrion".
First of all #2: I'm annoyed by the need to keep this journal anonymous but, unfortunately I still have to. In fact, if anonymity were compromised, I would have to go "friends-only" which would make me sad.
I brought an LJ friend whom I've never met r/t down to the gathering and he's a keeper. Sweet, funny and scary smart. One of his most charming qualities is the way he expresses his deep passions (for music, theory, pretty bodies) from an apparent standpoint of quiet, academic distance, with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow - a cub Vulcan more amused than appalled by his emotions.
Three of us had lunch at an excellent Vegetarian place in his University town before heading south. The border-crossing was relatively painless and I was amused and nervous as our driver and third in the car explained with a beatific smile that we were on our way to a men's consciousness-raising gather, throwing in terms like "life-change" and "feminism".
The camp where the gathering is held is among beautiful hills in the Finger Lakes region and the weather was lovely for the whole weekend despiste forecasts of thunderstorms. I elected to bring my tent rather than sleep in a cabin full of snoring men and it was great decision as I enjoyed warm nights (spent beside my beloved Mikey) with the sound of the creek and its peepers lulling us to sleep. In case you're curious, we sleep together platonically and I use that term not only to describe the lack of semen spilled but also to describe the ideal nature of our friendship. M, I love you a lot and being with you feeds my soul.
Man, I'm a fucking 19th Century poet today. Let's mix it up, shall we?
My first raunchy encounter of the weekend happened within 30 minutes of arriving. I had just put up the tent when another fest-man whom I hadn't seen in two years came up to give me a hug which quickly turned into a clinch along with his confession about having fantasized about the fur on my chest for two years. We quickly entered the tent and innaugurated it with what the more "spiritual" members of the group would call positive energy.
I have been to about 10 or 12 gatherings of this sort in the last seven years and yet, on the first evening before opening circle, I'm still plagued with childhood fears along the lines of "What if they don't like me?" Was I feeling uptight before he showed up? Let's just say that I really needed that sex to get my head on straight.
Sexually, one thing that I am really working on is being open about my needs and desires. Specifically, I'm trying to make the leap into actually saying what I'm thinking which, you'd think, would be easy. Anyway, he modelled this behaviour for me wonderfully as I straddled him woozily, having just cum on his chest. Slob that I am, I had just sucked back the drool that was escaping from my orgasm-addled mouth but he said, "it's okay, man. Drool in my mouth." Which I did and then dropped into my own mess to passionately kiss him.
Ask and you shall receive.
First of all #2: I'm annoyed by the need to keep this journal anonymous but, unfortunately I still have to. In fact, if anonymity were compromised, I would have to go "friends-only" which would make me sad.
I brought an LJ friend whom I've never met r/t down to the gathering and he's a keeper. Sweet, funny and scary smart. One of his most charming qualities is the way he expresses his deep passions (for music, theory, pretty bodies) from an apparent standpoint of quiet, academic distance, with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow - a cub Vulcan more amused than appalled by his emotions.
Three of us had lunch at an excellent Vegetarian place in his University town before heading south. The border-crossing was relatively painless and I was amused and nervous as our driver and third in the car explained with a beatific smile that we were on our way to a men's consciousness-raising gather, throwing in terms like "life-change" and "feminism".
The camp where the gathering is held is among beautiful hills in the Finger Lakes region and the weather was lovely for the whole weekend despiste forecasts of thunderstorms. I elected to bring my tent rather than sleep in a cabin full of snoring men and it was great decision as I enjoyed warm nights (spent beside my beloved Mikey) with the sound of the creek and its peepers lulling us to sleep. In case you're curious, we sleep together platonically and I use that term not only to describe the lack of semen spilled but also to describe the ideal nature of our friendship. M, I love you a lot and being with you feeds my soul.
Man, I'm a fucking 19th Century poet today. Let's mix it up, shall we?
My first raunchy encounter of the weekend happened within 30 minutes of arriving. I had just put up the tent when another fest-man whom I hadn't seen in two years came up to give me a hug which quickly turned into a clinch along with his confession about having fantasized about the fur on my chest for two years. We quickly entered the tent and innaugurated it with what the more "spiritual" members of the group would call positive energy.
I have been to about 10 or 12 gatherings of this sort in the last seven years and yet, on the first evening before opening circle, I'm still plagued with childhood fears along the lines of "What if they don't like me?" Was I feeling uptight before he showed up? Let's just say that I really needed that sex to get my head on straight.
Sexually, one thing that I am really working on is being open about my needs and desires. Specifically, I'm trying to make the leap into actually saying what I'm thinking which, you'd think, would be easy. Anyway, he modelled this behaviour for me wonderfully as I straddled him woozily, having just cum on his chest. Slob that I am, I had just sucked back the drool that was escaping from my orgasm-addled mouth but he said, "it's okay, man. Drool in my mouth." Which I did and then dropped into my own mess to passionately kiss him.
Ask and you shall receive.
