Wednesday, July 29, 2009

When the moments become

Here’s what people always say to me at sex clubs: why do you look so happy, you’re having too much fun! Trust me, I’m not having too much fun. I don’t say that, I just smile. Maybe I’m trying to make these places what they should be, places to laugh and chat and fall all over the place in that friendly way, laugh between bodies and hands and lips and mouths and cocks and things. Here I am, and I’m dancing -- it’s hard to dance here, with all of the shut down bodies craving some kind of opening shut down. Whatever -- I’m dancing, that’s what makes it fun right now, the music and walking around in circles instead of walking I can dance a little this is fun and then someone says. Well, you already know what they say.

This story is about one guy, the one with the sideburns and a wife-beater, what is it about this thing with one guy, I’ll go to these places and I’m only attracted to one guy? Anyway, he’s staring up at what’s going on upstairs and I miss my opportunity to touch him on the chest, kiss his neck dammit where is he now did I really miss my opportunity? I don’t see him anywhere.

Oh, wait there he is at the front desk, cuter in a grey argyle sweater even though his posture is kind of strange the way he’s leaning back and leaning forward at the same time maybe he’s drunk, he’s talking to the guy there and when he heads to the bathroom the guy at the front desk is shaking his head, I say what did he say? He said I owe him a dollar. I say what did you tell him? I told him I could shit on his face. I say people pay a lot more for that, that’s a good deal.

There he is in the bathroom, washing his dick off and I get some water, when he’s done I catch his eye in the mirror and I say you’re already leaving, and you’re the cutest one here. I’m not leaving, he says, but I can’t tell if he’s interested, I mean he did look right at me in that surprised maybe excited way right when I walked in the door but things change here in a few minutes, right? Back in the hallways of longing, I grab him from behind and kiss his neck, and guess what he says. Yes, why do you look so. Happy.

But what is it about this energy that doesn’t tire me out, I mean I kind of go to that playful place and I’m not exactly pretending. Usually in public I get so drained just from interacting that afterwards I’m falling apart, maybe just from a reading, but here I don’t understand what’s different, I mean all these walls walking around like guys looking for sex looking for walls but somehow I get to this place where I am kind of -- not happy, really, but maybe kind of amused no not really amused, what is that?

He also says: I like you. Okay, I say, then I’ll follow you around and I put his hand on my dick and he says what do you come here for? I come here for the music. Really. Most people don’t like this music, I mean it’s one of the things that everyone jokes about when they talk about sex clubs, but really it’s the best thing. I like talking about these 1995 beats what happened to these beats I want more of these beats I want more.

I don’t say that. I say I don’t know. But then I realize I do know, I mean maybe he wants to know what kind of sex I want, instead of just finding out from the push pull of fingers lips tongue arms, I say suck cock, get my dick sucked -- and hug cute boys in argyle sweaters. Somehow it takes him a moment to get the last part, and then he smiles, I say what about you? He says I like to watch, and get my dick sucked. I say well I’d love to suck your dick, he says maybe later. I say anytime, I mean I’m really good at it.

I can’t believe I say that last part, like I’m auditioning or something, but it’s the only way, the only way in these places when I’m only attracted to one guy really, I mean I could have sex with some of these other guys but I don’t want to.

This is how silly I get, outside in the back he’s smoking and I get on the table or the bench whatever it is that you sit on outside and I hug him from behind, even though he’s smoking, I mean after I try to dodge the smoke and then he blows it in the other direction, maybe that will work. He says I haven’t had human contact in two weeks, maybe he means the way I’m holding him. Here’s how you know the way desire can do strange things, because he’s telling me about one time when he was standing outside of BurgerMeister, smoking 20 feet away from this woman eating outside, and she asked him to move further away and he said: it’s a free country.

Smoking. BurgerMeister. A free country. He’s one of those guys who looks like maybe he’s always depressed, or maybe he just looks like he’s always depressed wait that’s the same thing, masculinity that goes inside more than outside and I like hugging him, I tell him I’ll suck his dick anytime, anytime you’re ready, and he says how about 20 minutes, and I say I might leave in 20 minutes. He says 15?

I’m getting tired, maybe I should leave but instead I’m eating the peanuts and trying not to go back to the front where he’s talking to the guy at the desk so I walk around to see if there’s anyone else I’m interested in. Not really. Maybe I should go home, I’m getting tired. I haven’t noticed the murals on the stall walls before, big cocks and drawn-on explosions kind of like a comeshot I guess but huge. That’s kind of funny. I focus on other funny things, like the disco ball -- it is kind of pretty the way the light goes round. And then I’m outside again, I never noticed the bamboo before.

There you are, he says, and I say where do you want to go? We go in back, in back of the outside and I start biting his neck and then he surprises me by kissing me right away on the lips, mouthwash, he used mouthwash for me that’s cute, and then it’s everything but mostly this drive the way our lips connect even when our lips aren’t connecting its like our hands are lips too. Desire is so strange, that’s what I’m thinking here in this stall with this boy and his soft argyle sweater, my hands are too cold for underneath, my hands grabbing his head his armpits chest and down, here it is, here I am where he’s told me he wants me, or someone like me but right now just me and yes, the way his dick curves even more dramatically to the side than mine that’s rare and I look up to register the moments where his head leans back I reach up for his neck he grabs my hands and yes.
At some point he pulls me up again, back to lips and then we’re inside, inside now with the heat blasting he’s sucking my dick he says he doesn’t do that often, no he says that later but I kind of know because I have to ask him. You already know how I could stay here on my knees in this tiny overheated cubicle forever if I could stay here with his arms, at some point on my knees with all this hunger and moisture and thrusting and what’s that other thing it’s that thing between us and I remember that he was washing his dick off in the bathroom and oh, that’s why he wanted to wait, he wanted to wait because he already came. It’s funny the things people don’t say, the things people don’t say in sex clubs and then we’re making out again, now my hands are warm enough they’re everywhere they’re everywhere with him, he says he’s going to take a break. But first, first he says: that was the highlight of my night. He’s talking about when I come, because I come for him and maybe he knows that. I mean I tell him. Then he can take a break.

He won’t call me, and I want him to, he won’t call me and this is when I wonder about this ravenous gorgeous soft raging glory this explosion of what-the-hell I’ve always loved the splendor of these sudden moments I mean when the moments become, when the moments become and I wonder if there’s something sad about it too. I mean I’ve reached for these connections where there may be no other connections I’ve reached and I’ve held and I’ve hoped and I’ve nurtured and craved and dreamed and still. And still I’m left here, I’m left here with these moments and nothing else.

4 comments:

Jory M. Mickelson said...

Have you seen A Night at the Adonis with Jack Wrangler? This post reminds me of that movie on so many levels, except I don't think anyone was wearing argyle in the film.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

I have not seen A Night at the Adonis, but now I am certainly curious -- although why no argyle, every movie needs argyle, right? At least if it's soft.

Since you just posted this comment, I'm tempted to call and say hi, but I don't want to wake Justin up -- feel free to call if you're in the mood, now or anytime...

Love --
mattilda

davka said...

ok so i broke my ac adapter and was without internet access for a couple weeks- but i got a new one and now i have to go way back and catch up on my mattilda.

i've been fiending. crack is whack crack is cheap, but mattilda is forever!

see you a few pages ago.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Yay, I'm so glad for that new AC adapter!!!

See you soon -- I mean in the past-soon...

Love --
mattilda