Friday, June 23, 2006
But we were on good terms and now that I had a very secure and well paying job with Sears Home Improvement a lot of the stress of this season eased up considerably.
Then, Ric, one night while out at the Full Moon Saloon , (or is it the Parliament House poolside), Ric found what seemed to him like "His Ultimate Soulmate".
He saw two hot looking young guys lounging on the patio, sunning themselves and did a double-take, they looked to him to be almost identical. But he zoned in on one of them, told him outright that "He was the cuter of the two", and they proceeded to make out then and there, and, in later accountings, by Gary himself, caused Gary to cum in his pants multiple times as he kissed Ric.
Ric and Gary threw themselves into a romance with one another virtually immediatley. Within a week, Ric told me he was moving out to move in with Gary. I was natuarally concerned since we had mutually signed the lease and it was not due to expire until December. I pointed out that, of course, he would still be obligated to pay his share of the rent (less than half of each months amount) until then to fulfill his obligation. Ric continually through the years has brought this up as an example of my "unfairness" to him...that I should have excused him the 2 months of rent he paid since he literally had moved to Clermont and didn't live in our apartment anymore.
I first met Gary as he was helping Ric move his crap outta his room and since it was hot out, Gary had no shirt on. I was floored. He was stunning. He had the perfect tight, smooth, fit body, the correct amount of "ink", and the sexy whore attitude of a perfect stud! Not to mention the face of an angel! He was gorgeous!!!
Later that day, as I would eventually admit to Gary as testimony to my attraction to him, I would jerk off and cum 5 times, thinking about him!
In December 2000, I moved to a gated community in South Orlando called Park Central, and within a month, Ric was at my door asking me to let him stay in my apartment since he had been thrown out by Gary.
Gary, at that time, took up with a guy named Robert, who, turned out to eventually be a real, physically-abusive jerk.
It wasn't long though, before Ric and Gary were back together.
Over the years, Ric and Gary and I had many adventures and really great memories and others that may not be so favorable. But that is the essence of a long friendship.
We usually went to the Universal and/or Busch Gardens parks, but we had many occassions to have lots of fun and wonderful shared experiences together.
Ric and Gary had, from the start, a very firey relationship. passion was not an occassional term, it was every day. All the time they were together, there would be the hint, if not outright stench, of conflict.
Ric and Gary made it through such dilemas as the Robert Affair 1, the Robert Affair 2, and even Gary's occassional, and very happenstance, occurances of sex between him and me.
It first happened one night after a party we had at Gary's house. We all had been drinking and though Gary and Ric went off to their room, at the end of the night, Gary later, came over to my bed, curled up next to me, totally naked, and said that he and Ric are broken up and he wanted to have sex with me.
After I fucked him, he passed out asleep, and then his mother came through the door of what she felt was her bedroom.
I wrapped myself in the bedspread, made my apologies, glanced back at Gary's perfect bubble butt showing up prominently, and said...""Good Night".
I told Ric, the next day what had occured.
He wasn't too horribly surpised.
The Gary and Ric saga lasted longer than anyone could have guessed. They had a certainly turbulent relationship those years.
Their relationship ended suddenly by an unexpected event...death.
In the summer of 2003, Gary complained of stomach pains and not being able to keep food down. He lost a lot of weight in a very short time. When he first went to the doctors, they mis-diagnosed his illness as ulsers and prescribed antacids. His symptoms continued till he was severely ematiated and weak. The next diagnoses was accurate, but not good news.
Gary had adrenocarcinoma, cancer of the gall bladder. It had spread to other parts of his body. He was given 6 months to live.
He died in April 2004.
Gary was 26 years old.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
I didn't really know what to expect. Depictions of gay bars in the movies and TV shows of the time usually went for one of the two extreme stereotypes...Ultra-Fem or Super-Butch. Either a satin-draped pink and lavender lounge featuring Greek columns and statues of naked Adonises playing soft piano music in muted candlelit romance, or, dark, sweat-stained, cigar-smoke filled pits, crawling with Leathermen Masters, Old Bears and their Chicken Slaves. (The term "chicken" back then was the equivalent of today's "twink".)
Michael seemed excited as he knew it was my first exposure to the gay world. Other than him and his friend Jerry, I hadn't really known any other gay guys. (I knew, even then, that John could not truly be classified as gay. If it were times like now, John might have been comfortable with the label of bisexual.)
I remember spending a lot of time discussing with him what to wear. In those days, the preppie look was at it's height, and Michael and I were hardcore preps to the core. I'm not sure exactly what I wore, but it likely had a Polo Ralph Lauren insignia somewhere and reeked either of the cologne of the same name or Halston Z-14.
We went to his friend George's house as we were going as "threesome" (pluetonic, of course). George was in his late 30's or so, and just happened to be one of the history teachers in my school. Remember, I was still a senior in high school...I was only 17.
I remember Michael and George talking about their transportation plans if they were successful in "hooking up".
While Donna Summer belted out a high-energy mix of "I Feel Love"from George's hi-fi stereo, the conversation moved to sex and George stared seductively at me and admitted it was hard for him to find the right lover because they (his sex partners) just couldn't keep up with his stamina...
Okay, George was chunky, balding, (what I then considered) "middle-aged" and of Middle-Eastern ethnicity. I was Sooo Not Interested and by being cool for the rest of the night with him, I think he got the message.
But I do have to hand it to him though, he pulled through in a time of need.
When we arrived at the club, a country club style sprawling compound called "The Loft" set in a rural suburb between Woonsocket and Providence, I could hear the beat of the disco music inside getting louder and louder as we got nearer the front entrance...it was firing me up! But the excitement was almost snubbed out when the bouncer wanted to see our ID's (Michael's and mine...not George's).
Michael whispered to me to play it cool and just say I forgot it and pretend I was old enough. But the bouncer wasn't very convinced and he seemed on the verge of not letting me in when George stepped in and said "He's cool". In the span of just a second or two, it seemed George and the bouncer exchanged knowing nods, and I was let in.
Inside, it was far from the Sodom and Gommorah or Pansy Foo-Foo Palace of mass-media portrayals. It was, kinda, well, kinda, normal.
The main floor had a long bar and several tables along with a pool table and entrance to the outdoor pool area (closed now, of course, being the dead of winter). We checked our coats (for a fee), after paying a cover charge and proceeded to the bar to buy drinks. Luckily, Michael or I were not "re-carded" at the bars that night and were able to order freely (though not cheaply). One of my first impressions of a gay bar was that it was expensive! As we were just there as pals, no one was buying me drinks (yet...but that soon changed) and I had to shell out my own hard-earned HoJo's money.
Before we went upstairs to the main dance floor, I noticed a smaller bar off to the left of the stairway and asked the guys what was in there. They said "You don't want to go in there..." and smiled. Well, of course I went in.
It was like stepping into a whole other club. It was much smaller and darker than the main club and once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see why. The leathermen club known as "The Falcons" gathered here...and here they definitely were. Furry, handlebar-mustachioed, burly men in black leather chaps, studded torso harnesses and biker caps were strewn about the place, some making out, others doing a bit more (frotage), but most sucking back beers outta the bottle and suddenly, and intently, staring at me as if I were a juicy hot dog about to be devoured. I wasn't afraid, but I sure didn't want to encourage them either so I did a slow cruise past the bar, looked out the window (as if that's what I had wanted to do all along) and non-chalantly, albeit, blushingly went back to my friends now upstairs. Whew, that was close! ;)
The sound system was amazing along with the colored rotating spotlights, the strobes and, very new then, lasers and smoke machines. It was fantastic. As they do still to this day, gay bars invest much more in the drama of their dance clubs and expertise of their DJ's then "straight" clubs, anytime! IMHO, anyway.
Several guys were pretty hot. This club generally catered to a more affluent clientele. But the age range was a bit older than, as I later would learn, the downtown Providence or Boston clubs. The college in this area, Bryant was a conservative business school and though I'm sure there were a few students from there, it was mainly either local residents like us or guys from the city who wanted a more relaxed country atmosphere.
Some of the guys I met that night I would later bump into, sometimes literally, again and again at the various clubs in the area.
There was the heavy set somewhat fey guy who reminded me of a young Harvey Firestein who kept wanting to talk my ear off about how gorgeous I was.
There was the cute blond college-aged guy who couldn't believe I was old enough to be there and kept pressing me to admit to him how old I was as he nuzzled up to me and we sucked face. When I finally told him, rather than get scared, he seemed titilated by it but to my chagrin once his friends found out, they cautioned him to avoid me. I was, unfortunately, literally jail bait.
There was the older guy in the black satin "John Travolta" shirt (which by then was falling greatly out of style) and multiple gold chains around his neck, draping over his slightly hairy chest. He was the most free with his money and bought me many of my drinks-of-choice (Jack Daniels and soda...oh yeah, it was all about getting fucked up as quickly as possible!) During one dance he started pressing his thigh to mine and...my, oh my! He was hard as a rock and hung like a freaking horse! Must have been a good 11 or 12 inches! His looks were plain and not my type, his style was definitely not up to my standards, but oh, my mind wondered...I refused anymore advances from him though as it was getting late and I didn't want to get in over my head.
At midnight, Michael, George and I wrestled ourselves away from our various ephemeral erotic daliences, found each other, raised our glasses of champagne in toast, hugged and kissed and wished each other a happy and gay 1982!
Sunday, June 18, 2006
I have achieved Step One of my savings strategy towards the purchase of a car by January. My first thousand. Yeah, I know, at this rate I'll be able to afford not much better than a 1981 Ford Pinto, but, eh, it's a start.
And now I can say, I am once again able to hob nob with the almost Not-So-Destitute classes. I am a Thousandaire!
Marshall's last day was Friday and everybody gave him a hug and wished him well. Although his admission that he is moving out there to avoid the drama of his current roommate situation (very unstable) and has not gotten a lead on a new job other than potentially becoming an amature poker tournament coordinator for $9/hr, doesn't give off an air of upward-mobility. As I said before, me-thinks Mr. Marshall is going through his own personal period of Koyaanisqatsi.
Okay, so we'll see how long this lasts This Time, but I have started a new diet.
Yes, I too agree "Diet" is a four-letter word and most nutritionists say you should not go on a restrictive diet in order to achieve weight-loss. The ideal plan is a re-commitment to healthy habits like eating sensibly, restricting high-fat, high-carbohydrate foods, limiting alcohol intake and exercising regularly. But I have learned that I have to be tough on myself at first in order for the good habits to re-establish themselves. It doesn't happen by just modifying my lifestyle slowly or trying to get to a point of "normal balance" from the get go...it has to be Boot Camp. Without the hardcore discipline, my subconcious will either "forget" about my commitment to healthier living or it will "hijack" my attempts by allowing chemicals to cascade from the brain and "take over" my controls, plunging me into either an agressive "rebellion" against the logic of a healthy lifestyle, seeing it as "cramping my style", or causing chaotic bi-polar like symptoms of seemingly-uncontrollable bouts of depression and mania.
With a strict Plan-Of-Action and unswerving adherence to quite severe guidelines...usually in the range of the Dyanamic Three Commandments of Achieving Healthy Living, I have been most successful in the past.
The 3 Commandments:
1. Thou shalt not consume more than 1000 calories per day, and all alcohol is strictly forbidden. Water or equivalent no-calorie beverage must be consumed at a rate of at leat 4 liters per day.
2. Thou must reach "aerobic-level" (110-120 heartbeats per minute for a minimum of 30 minutes) at least one time per day, with one day-off per week allowance.
3. Thou must spend time to reflect on the successes and make mental penance for lapses, every day without exception. This includes a daily weigh-in, a log, a self-discussion of upcoming challenges and the plan to meet them, and sharing the daily experiences and feelings with someone else.
These three rules target the the Greek Trinity of the Self...Mind, Body and Soul...
Rule One (MIND) establishes Strict Discipline through Constant Consiousness of the Plan and creates the conditions for optimal Mind-Over-Matter mastery of natural urges, cravings, "stinkin'-thinkin', and the like. It's the epitome of the now well-known Nike tagline...Just Do It.
Rule Two (BODY) conditions the body, allowing it to re-establish a higher metabolism and accelerate the fat reduction. The added benefit is the physical pleasures of more plyable and strong muscle tone and the release of dopamine in the brain.
Rule Three (SOUL) allows time for contemplation and reflection, Zen-like, if you will. The part about sharing with others allows for a connectedness esential in building a sense of accomplishment and pride, recognition from others and feedback support systems.
The rules are essential and effective only if worked on in-synch, all 3 must be implemented at the same time and conducted simultaneously.
Frankly, the toughest challenge is the no alcohol part. This rule has thwarted every attempt to invoke the Commandments for at least 7 years now and unfortunately in that time I have slowly, but surely, made progress in the opposite direction...from ~190 lbs. in 1999 to ~290 lbs. at present.
I've got to do it though. I am now in the category of morbid obesity. All my current aches and pains and discomforts (the pinched nerve in my left shoulder, my tendonitis in my feet, my occasional bouts of gout, my lack of adaquate sleep, possibly due to undiagnosed sleep apnia, my shortness of breath, my discomfort sitting or standing in one position for more than a minute or so (because of the pressure on blood vessels and nerves), perhaps even my escallating allergy symptoms, now present virtually every day, and craving for alcohol and other foodstuffs (probably due to chemical imbalances, hormonal issues, lipids in the blood stream or blood sugar levels), even mood swings, low self-esteem, apathy, impatience, mental dullness, attention deficit disorder...man, the list can go on and on!
Not to mention the worst of all...I can only fit in the double-buckled "special" seats on the coasters at Islands of Adventure (and, since most of the coasters are similarly-designed everywhere, I would assume this would be the case at any theme park)!
I need to be fit and trim enough to achieve my goal of, sometime early next year, driving to the park in my car and riding in any seat on any coaster.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Friday, June 09, 2006
Well, allow me to set a few of my political beliefs down here, so as not to be "left out" of the general trend in the "blogger community".
I am an American. My direct ancestors are very clearly traceable to 3 important periods in my family's past. The citation for this is obtained from a geneology I purchased many years ago.
1. Immigration from the tumoultous times of the 17th century from France to Quebec. The genology places the three branches of the Chausse family that immigrated to The New World at around the year 1640.
2. Consolidation into the Anglo-Franco union that became Canada in the 18th and 19th centuries.
3. The desire for the younger generation of the late 19th century to seek a better life for their families. My line sought work in the bustling textile industries of New England at this time. Woonsocket, Rhode Island became a haven for immmigrant labor from Quebec due to the vast need for new workers and the growing community of French-Canadian immigrants to that region, allowing for a somewhat familiar footing into American life.
I still cry, to this day, at a good rendition of the National Anthem.
I was born in this country, in a state which, I arrogantly contend is more American than almost any other state for these reasons:
Rhode Island was one of the 13 original colonies which comprised the United States.
Of the those 13, it had been well-known as the most independent of all.
Rhode Island's colonial assembly declared independence from England well BEFORE the official Declaration of Independence ratified on July 4, 1776 by 2 YEARS...Rhode Island maintains it's independence date as May 4, 1774!
Rhode Island was the LAST state to sign the Constitution because it wanted to insure fully that it's individual rights would be preserved fully under the new nation, and, it is presumed many state rights that would have been relenquished prior to the "Rhode Island Delay" were reinstated because of this tactic.
Rhode Island was the first state to officially recognize the division between Church and State and the first to recognize that it's citizen's had the right to practice ANY religion (or no religion) they chose. Because of this Rhode Island was the birthplace of the first Baptist church (then considered radically new), the first synagogue of the Jewish faith in the New World and the harbor of many other persecuted or discriminated practices such as Wicca.
Although I live in Florida, because of the more favorable weather...I am still at heart, a Rhode Islander.
Like an old Yankee, I am independent to the core. I would rather die, in many circumstances, then ask help of others.
The Southern "hospitality" of using "Sir" and "Ma'am" are irritating and actually, to my ears, more condescending. To true Yankee's, even if they are elderly, calling them "Sir" or "Ma'am" is actually negative. I have known so many octegenerian "Jane Doe's" that would cring if you called them "Ma'am" or even "Mrs. Doe"...call them "Jane" if you want their respect. Yankee old-timers don't want you to "curtsey" to them like their Southern counterparts, apperently...they want to be a member of your group, whatever age bracket...so treat them as such! That is respect!
If someone calls me "Sir" more that 2 times, I'll let them know that it offends me. Blows the mind of the Southern kids who were "brought up" to "respect their elders"...no, like so many Southern errors, they were brought up, in a very slick, passive-aggresive mode to "put thier elders in their place" as non-essential, almost-dead entities. How wrong!
George W. Bush.
I have never felt as badly about an American President as I have about him. From the early stages of media coverage of his gaffs and blunders seeing him as a total buffoon, to the over-the-top handling of the 9/11 crisis and the ensuing years in which he would try to portray himself as a strong President leading the Nation into a "rightous war"...I just never, ever, bought it, and was amazed at how many others did.
Don't get me wrong. I am not the total bleeding heart liberal you may think because of my sexual oriention and religious beliefs.
In fact, in the '80's, despite disagreement with the way he handled the growing AIDS crisis (eh, he just wasn't well enough informed), I was a big supporter of Ronald Reagan.
When he gave his Evil Empire speech after the downing of Korean Airlines 007, I cried. I fully wanted us to punish the Soviets. They were the cause of so much of our misery. They should be wiped off the face of the Earth. I personally felt we should consider a "Pre-Emptive First Strike" against them with our nuclear missiles.
How naive of me.
But, the nationalistic spirit is hard to temper.
When I was in high school, my friend Steven Glasscock and I would use our study periods doing poli-sci, geo-political investigations in the library and try to postualte what trends were in the air and what was going to continue.
We both noticed, even then, the growing American GDP against the rest of the worlds nations.
Steven thought it would culminate in a crash sometime in the mid-eighties and the US lead would be reduced to more competitive numbers. I didn't agree. I saw, even then, the Soviet system for what it was, and any system built on it as critically impacted. The oil-rich nations were mono-economic, they depended too heavily on one income source. Third World nations were still in the post-independence political shuffling that would occur for at least another 10 years in most cases as most had only been independent for a decade or so. I foresaw that Europe would unite, if not entirely politically, at least economically, but even this was not going to stop the juggernaught.
The USA was going to be, I predicted in the very early 1980's, the most powerful and weathly nation on the Earth and, when compared historically to past glorious empires (Egypt, Alexander's, Rome, Persia, China, Mongol, Mughal, Incan, Aztec, Spanish, Napoleonic, British, etc) it would surpass all.
Now, looking at the present situation, we are, I feel, in the early years of our nation's Golden Age.
I may be a liberal in everyday personal and lifestyle issues, but I am actually a bit over-the-top compared to today's politically-correct thinking when it comes to world issues and international policy.
I think the United States should make a move towards World Domination.
Okay, I know this has a lot of negativity attached to it. Hitler really screwed it up big time. Since he was obviously after World Domination, and so many demogogs and dictators before him (Napoleon, Attila the Hun, Ghengis Khan, etc.) with bad reputations had aspired to the same goal, the whole idea, nowadays, sound so archaic and insane.
But, come on, consider it...One World Government. One Allegience. One Nationality!
I dislike religion like the next athiest, but, it really isn't the schism between Isalm and Christianity and Judeaism that harbors much of the world's "mot de guerre", Reason for War, it's a concept known as "National Pride".
The concept of individual nation-states has met it's terminus. It is obsolete.
I am right now, typing on a keyboard manufactured in Taiwan, looking into a monitor manufactured in Singapore by a firm headquartered in Korea. I have tonite visited web sites housed on servers in Brazil, Norway, Japan and Canada. I am listening to internet radio via a radio station in France. For breakfast today I had toast and peanut butter, a foodstuff developed in the United States and Costa Rican coffee, for lunch Chinese buffet and for dinner Morroccan couscous and Jamaican oxtails, washed down with Mexican Margaritas and later Swiss cheese snacks with Australian Shiras red wine.
I am not alone in this diversity of sources of who I am. I am a citizen of Earth!
But, of course, being American, I would want it to be...The United States of Earth. If we focused our energies even just a little bit, this would be very achievable.
I mean, really, who would, or could oppose us?
Here's a quote from Military Spending of The USA on Wikipedia:
The United States military budget is larger than the military budgets of the next twenty biggest spenders combined, and six times larger than China's, which places second (although it is widely believed that China significantly understates its actual military expenditures). Dollar for dollar, the United States and its closest allies are responsible for approximately two-thirds of all military spending on Earth (of which, in turn, the U.S. is responsible for two-thirds). Military spending accounts for more than half of the United States' federal discretionary spending, which comprises all of the U.S. government's money not accounted for by pre-existing obligations. 
According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, in 2003 the United States spent approximately 47% of the world's total military spending of US$956,000,000,000.
So our goal should be to get rid of this idiot and his short minded cronies in the White House who are all about gouging the US citizens to profit on their oil stocks, and get true Globally Minded, New World order thinkers in there, (people kinda like his father), so we can be in a position to "accept" the "affirmation" of a grateful world community at being allowed to participate in the unification of man into One World Government, a feat strived for by many, but not achieved, until, so I predict, the United States does so in the year 2054.
The year I turn 90.
Hope I get to see it.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Finally, after a few minutes of "sizing me up", she grabbed her stuff, moved near me and said, "Excuse Me?...".
Ever since I came out just a couple of years before, I've never really been "hit on" by a girl, so I didn't know how I was going to "break it" to her.
Turns out, I didn't need to worry. She asked me if I was only checking one piece of stored luggage...I was...and would I do a BIG favor for her??
She had 3 bags that due to size and/or weight needed to be checked in as stowed luggage. Passengers were allowed 2 pieces of stowed luggage and one carry-on. I had only one of each.
To avoid an extra $75 charge, she asked if I would check one of her bags in my name to save her the expense. Being a good Samaritan and a helpful guy, I immediately said, "Sure".
True, now, in the post 9/11 world, I doubt (or hope, at least), no one would agree to this arrangement today, but those were "simpler times".
(Or were they???....As I was well aware since I was a Nightly News devotee then, the Hezbollah hijacking of TWA Flight 847, which made world headlines, occurred just 3 weeks earlier...one American was killed)
So because she "asked nicely", I undertook the responsibility for a large green duffel bag as one of my pieces of checked luggage on an international flight originating in the US. A bag I had never seen before and had no idea of the contents inside.
After check-in, I told my "accomplice" that I would meet with her after landing, and we parted ways.
The flight, my first international/overseas flight was long and boring. I had thought I would make my trip more pleasant by asking the representative during check-in if I could "upgrade" to more spacious seating. She suggested that if I didn't mind the fact that I would be too close to the movie screen to view the movie selections, that I was welcome to switch to a seat in the forward most row of coach, right up by the movie screen. (Back then, movies on airplanes were still projected, like they are in cinemas, onto a large white screen. There were no individual LCD viewing screens like there are today.)
But, the check-in representative forgot to mention the "other" function that row served as...it was the "baby changing area".
Yes, the wall that held the screen for the movie projection also housed several "pull-down" bassinets.
The plane was a 747....hundreds of passengers!
Moms with their little babies were coming out of the woodwork to change their screaming rugrats' noxious diapers...
Nevertheless, I got very little sleep but when we arrived in Frankfort, I was VERY relieved to be changing planes.
I met up with the girl who's luggage was in my name and she said..."See you in baggage claim".
It immediately dawned on me that when we were in line in Boston, we were both waiting for a Boston to Frankfort flight...but, I forgot to ask if she was getting off in Frankfort, or going on to a connecting flight.
It turns out, she was getting off in Frankfort, but I was going on to Munich. So, since I checked her bag as "mine", it was going to Munich with me.
We tried to tell the Lufthansa staff that we needed that item to stay in Frankfort, but it was already tagged and on the plane bound for Munich.
I told the girl I'd get the item to her, who I'm sure then I knew her name especially since I had to get her luggage back to her, but even if tortured, I wouldn't be able to tell you her name today...funny how time is like that...during that summer, I am sure I knew her name by heart VERY WELL. But now, nothing.
I was initially planning to drive it to her since she said that after a week she would be in Vienna. I was planning on visiting Austria anyway. I nearly made it but being on Sunday when I attempted the drive and also, anxious to get back home, I created the two excuses of:
I didn't have enough money to buy gasoline to get there (since I had only German Marks or American Dollars and couldn't exchange it for Austrian currency (even though GDM or, especially American Dollars may have well sufficed at any gas station in order to gas up)
After the situation with John, I wanted to go home.
The reason I went to West Germany in the first place was to see John.
John N., my first love.
We had been keeping correspondence for some months now, since I found out from a mutual friend a year and a half earlier that he had enlisted in the Army and was in boot camp.
I wrote to him in boot camp and it seemed, from his letters back, that he was genuinely thrilled that I had contacted him in order to be friends again.
We had a big falling out in spring of 1981 and hadn't spoken to each other since then...all through our senior year, even during the heady times of graduation.
(During graduation ceremonies, my mom spotted him and called him over for a picture and he was cordial enough to pose, but I was nowhere nearby...he was still a nice kid to my mom, but still not my friend...I, for months afterwards stared at the picture my mom had snapped...my beloved John, in maroon cap and gown, smiling....but not at me...)
In '84, John had been stationed at Bischofgrun on the Czechoslovakian (Iron Curtain) border in what was then, West Germany. I suggested that in summer of '85, after I received my trust fund, I could visit him on vacation. He agreed it would be great.
Now, tired and irritable after a long and unpleasant flight from Boston, I was loaded down with an extra duffel bag and held in my hand keys to a Volkswagen rental which, although had been arranged supposedly by my travel agent ahead of time, I now stood in the parking lot of the airport realizing that it was a stick-shift.
Back in 1985, I strictly only knew how to drive automatic. My friend Sandra at Wrentham had tried to teach me how to drive standard...mainly because I knew that the car rental rates for autos in Europe were higher for automatic than for standard...but, after stalling her car and being too "nervous" for further instruction, decided to pay the extra for automatic.
I learned that I would have to pay another $100 for automatic (no wonder the travel agency price seemed so good, they screwed me!!), got my automatic GOLF and drove north on the Autobahn towards Nuremberg, Bayreuth and, eventually Bischofgrun.
On the way north, I watched for exit signs for various locals as they corresponded to my map. I'm very good with geography, but not so much with languages which is why the following situation arose. As I drove further and further on, I noticed that each exit off the highway was to "Ausgang". I kept thinking that this suburb was very large indeed since each and every exit off the highway said: "Ausgang". Although I thought that "Ausgang" was the name of a very spread-out destination, I eventually discovered that "ausgang", in German, means "exit". Silly me.
I eventually met with John in downtown Bayreuth. We went shopping and out to dinner. It was like old times except instead of simple, familiar, Woonsocket, we were in Europe, all grown up now. There was a feeling, at least on my part, of precious time lost.
We did touristy things the first and next day, but as we sat in his small apartment on that second night, about ready to play an innocent game of German Monopoly...his white sock covered foot moved towards my crotch...
I really hadn't intended that this trip would in any way rekindle our sexual experiences. John had implied in the various letters to me that he had decided that he was straight, with a bi-sexual tinge, but had not in anyway implied we could "get back together".
His foot was on my cock though, and his intent was very clear...he wanted to fuck!
And that we did.
He and I 69'd...he came all over my chest too early and apologized...he then got hard again and fucked me and for the first time ever, I felt him cum in my ass. He then fingered my hole to allow me to spurt my load. We hugged and kissed for what seemed like hours.
The next day, I asked him what we were going to do and he seemed to be....another person.
He, in essence, stated that we couldn't stay together, because he was getting ready to move back and couldn't deal with distractions, some bullshit like that.
When we both got back to the States, I tried to contact him but he wouldn't have anything of it and though he agreed to transport my decanter set at no duty since he was US ARMY saving me costs, he said "It broke en route". So I was out an expensive glass decanter set.
Funny..I, despite the difficulty that the added baggage caused for me for a fellow American traveler, was responsible enough to ship the blond girls duffel bag back to her in Arizona.
It still persists though, that even though we had great sex in Germany, and he had the means to contact me on any whim, I have never seen or spoken to John since that July of 1985.