Stalkers

I went on a date with this older gentleman. He was from some foriegn country in Europe. His English was hard to understand. Anyway, we spent three hours at the coffee shop, we went for a walk, talked about his kids and his work.

We said our goodbyes, but he invited me to dinner. How could I refuse? Sushi. I dropped my car at my apartment and rode in his. Well, he decided to tell me about his ex that lives in the apartments across the street. I mean he told me how he watches the apartment. I mean, he parks the car in my complex and walks across the street to look inside the window and watch how his ex is doing it with different guys every night. I don’t mean a different guy every night. I said different guys (plural) every night.

Then if that’s not bad enough. He tells me about how he follows him to work, to the gym, to other guys houses. He talked passionately about his stalking.

Weeks went by and he called me to say hi and invite me to dinner. I declined each time and he left me alone because he got back together with his ex. 

I remember when I was 26, and had my own stalker. I convinced him to move away from the city because his life was in danger. Someone would tell his dad that he’s gay. 

Good Vibe

I went on a date with this guy. Obviously. Anyway, we’re sitting drinking coffee and talk about how I write and he’s a screen writer. We talk about our projects and give each other some insight into the other’s world. We spent three and a half hours talking. We each had two more coffees. It was nice. We exchanged phone numbers and business cards.

Days went by and he didn’t call so I called him. I left him a message and never heard from him again. I mean seriously, why waste my time if you’re not interested. BE HONEST.

Damn men. I swear I am going to stop dating men. I don’t mean I’ll date women, they’re hard to understand. I think I’ll be a monk. Chances are I’ll have more sex at a monastery.  Just saying.

Gay Characters are hard to write. So write with care.

Gay characters seem to be the hardest to write. When you write a relationship between a man and a woman it is easy to know what their roles are in a relationship. Sometimes they are stereotyped to certain degree. More likely than not, the man is the bread winner and he is the caretaker. The female is most likely the caregiver, the gatherer. The basis of any relationship.

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Love Hour

I look out the window into the pool. The slight breeze swings the tree branches. The darkness cut by lights from the pool gave the yard an eerie glow. My body tired from a long week of work. The stresses of work are getting too much for me to handle. The wife and kids problems were too much to bear anymore. I need a break. I need a vacation and do not have the time or money. I need some me time.

The soft melody of jazz plays in the background in a soft beat. The scent of juniper in the air relaxes me. I feel my fatigue slowly ebb away.

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Exercise

I joined the gym.
I am so excited. I am rescheduling all of my time to make time for the gym.  I looked around and found one close to my house.  It’s not bad. I am happy.  I”m going to start with walking. Now that I don’t have such a hard time breathing I’m going to walk a half mile and work my way up.  From experience, I know that if I don’t take it slow, I’m going to hurt myself and make excuses not go.
Hopefully, by May, I’ll buy a racket ball and do a set in the mornings. This is my goal. Who knows, I might find a racquetball partner to play with on the court.
Too bad that the friends I have now are so cynical that I couldn’t see them exercising for their lives.  I am not going to tell them anything because I don’t want to hear their negative thoughts or be ignored. This is why I need new friends.
Too bad too. I would love to play racket ball with them. It is a good challenge.
I’m going for a walk now.  Check out the local view of the freeway as I walk by it.  Wish me luck.

3 Req – Looks

You’re right if you thought of physique, clear skin, hot body, tight abs, good legs, blue eyes, matching ears, bubble butt, a twinkle in the eyes, muscle, muscle (did I mention muscle?), and overall appearance. Oh. Also, dress well. If you thought of any of these to mean Looks, then you’re utterly right. It doesn’t matter how old you are, if you have the hot body, you’re in.  You work out at least seven days in the gym. You run every day; you eat amino acids, flax seed, whey, and countless of other things like egg whites just to keep that body going.
The Looks in the gay community are paramount. If you look like you just walked out of the street because that’s your home, you’re going to be avoided. If you look like you just stepped out of Men’s Health, Men’s Journal, Calvin Klein commercial, or my favorite Hilfiger, then you’re going to have man hounding you down. You’ll be ogled at left and right. Some men will put a rose on your lapel. Other’s will wipe the sweat off your seat at the gym and use that same towel to clean themselves up at night.
Notice how they have people walking two feet behind them smelling their butts because they smell like petunias. Notice how many don’t even look at the age, but on how they look. Age is not relevant in this. The look appeals to most of us. You’ll hear comments on how they would eat the waste directly from them.
Grooming. Please wipe behind your ears. Dry your back after a shower, clip your nails, and always use talcum. Not sure why. Anyway, be well groomed.
Style, fashion, and clean clothes. A good dress man is to women what lingerie is to men. So I’ve heard. I like a well-dressed man. I don’t care how old you are, if you can wear a James Bond Tux and look good, I’ll go to bed with you (does not mean get a t-shirt with a tux print and show up at my door expecting me to go to bed with you), and you’ll love it.
In the gay community if you want to get laid, but you’re older and don’t have money, dress well and groom yourself. Just saying.
I admit I like watching a hot guy. This explains how Tom Cruise, Collin Ferrell, Michael Dudikoff, Justin Beber, and countless other hot guys that can’t act or sing got their jobs. The look is everything. It’s a technique used to manipulate others. I’m guilty; I used to use my body to manage guys. I had a blast when I went out with guys, and they paid for everything. Expensive hotels, shows on and off the strip, travel to different cities, free entrance to nightclubs, VIPs tables at nightclubs, private seating at costly restaurants and damn, I’m making myself sound like a whore.
Anyway, you get the point. Looks is everything. I lost mine, so don’t forget yours.

 

My Thirties

When I hit my thirties, bang, things changed. I dated an 18-year-old. For a year. I think it was dating. I’m not sure. No. I’m not sure. We hung out every day every day for over a year.
My mother thought I lost my mind. “What are you doing dating a kid like that. You’ve already walked around the block twice.” My goodness, my mother calling me a whore. I didn’t pay much heed. I continued seeing the guy. What happened to him? I’ll never know.
I don’t remember how we met. I know I made an impression on him. He thought I was way too gay to be true. I thought he was too childish for my needs.  Anyway, we never did anything sexually. He held my hand once, I held him once, and we were both afraid of committing to each other.  We knew each other’s secrets. We held nothing back. He knew about the men I was with; I knew who he was with. It was love/hate relationship. I used to hate loving him.  I was never too sure of what to do about him.  We both had school, and we both had our responsibilities. Our entire relationship took place at night at a restaurant and never went anywhere from there.  I knew the menu by heart. I knew the manager had a Prince Charles. I knew which cook, was sleeping with which waitress. I felt like I was on a soap opera.
On another occasion. I had an affair with a much younger man.  He literally waited until he turned 18 to talk to me.  We spent a lot of time together, eating out late and such. We would go to movies, games, festivals, parties, and anything you can think of when a couple goes out.  I had so much fun with him. I miss him. He’s out traveling the world as a grown man should.  First we started with a bit of hand-holding and slowly progressed to one night of passion.  Things were different after that one night. I’m not sure what happened. Maybe he was too young, maybe I was too immature. I don’t know. I’ll never know the truth. I know his girlfriend was happier after that night.
I tell you one thing. I’m 42 and I am currently sleeping with an 18 year old. I carded him before we did anything.  Let me tell you. He’s a fast learner and OMG, he is sooooo good. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.  All we do is know each other in the biblical sense. I love it.
So tell me, what about you?

 

My Teens

When I was a teen, I was attracted to older men. By older, I mean two to three years. High School seniors, College guys, military guys. The whole prospect of someone older than 25 was unthinkable. My first love was when I was in High School. He was a senior. My first crush was the 23-year-old Physical Education teacher. Brown eyes, brown hair, beautiful physic. I thought he was the mature kind of guy. The senior was just an idiot chasing my neighbor and sleeping with my girlfriend (sounds like soap.)

When you’re a teen, the world lays at your feet.  You are king of the planet. You are invincible.  So why do we fail so miserable in dating? We give our hearts out like there is no tomorrow. We give with all our passion and don’t expect to be hurt. If we do, then we either die miserably or move on to the next one, only jaded.

The adage of “If I knew then what I know know,” comes to mind.  If I were in high school with what I know now, I’d probably still date the senior.  I might have been a little more aggressive (assertive isn’t the word I’m going to use, it’s more than confident), I would have slept with him in December and not until a week after his graduation, the night before he went into the Army. Not that he was any good.
I’m sure we would have improved by then.
Oh. You’re probably wondering how he slept with my girlfriend.  I didn’t know how to hide I was gay. Not that it mattered. I kind of had a hand holding girlfriend. The three of us went downtown to watch Space Balls. He drove his dad’s car, dropped me off first and well, you know. I’m so heartbroken. Just kidding.
The only reason I ended up with the senior was that we both had American History on 1st period.  He got into a fight with his locker partner and moved in with me.  We hung out a lot. Every day we arrived half an hour early and met with my neighbors from the other side of my house and had breakfast.  He would walk me to class, and sometimes to my house.
As far as the PE teacher. I tried to sleep with him. I succeeded in my dreams. What did I know about seducing an older man? Nothing. I did get to peek at him in the showers a few times.  Of course, I didn’t know what I was comparing him too. Other teenage boys???

 

The Knock

Finally. I’m home. It’s been a long day and all I want is to get some rest. Order some Chinese food, I don’t feel like eating Mexican leftovers. Drink some Merlot to help me relax. Watch a rented movie.

I hear a knock on the door. Man! Let me get my coat off and my shoes before you knock on my door.

I open the door to two men in black slacks with white shirts and black ties. The young men on the left, is of Asian descent, a little on the hefty size. His hair short cropped and thick black rimmed glasses over his round face. Still has the innocent look. He’s holding a thick bible with his hands on his chest.

The other man is tall, slim, with short blond hair. His deep, blue eyes piercing mine. His smiling face flushed with fear and embarrassment. “We have the wrong address,” he blurts out. He turns his body hiding his face. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.” He quickly leaves his partner’s side, practically jumps down the steps to the first floor of my two-story building.

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