dante woo
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about

ars poetica



 
Main Entry: 1in.te.ri.or
Pronunciation: in-'tir-E-er
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle French & Latin; Middle French, from Latin, comparative of (assumed) Old Latin interus inward, on the inside; akin to Latin inter
Date: 15th century
1 : lying, occurring, or functioning within the limiting boundaries : INNER
2 : belonging to mental or spiritual life
3 : belonging to the inner constitution or concealed nature of something
4 : lying away or remote from the border or shore

 

1 . m a y   2 5 , 1 9 9 9 . today is my dad's birthday. yesterday i worked late, busy on some new projects that are cool because i'm learning a lot about networks, kiosks, "community" on the web, macromedia director, and more and more and more. unfortunately, a lot of late nights and stress are coming along. cardio and crunches, even though i hate them, are in order, so i work out at scrunch and then head home around 10. call this kid that i've been hanging out with lately, ask if he wants me to drop by when i get home. he says give me a call when you get to the station. 5. we're talking about the gym and how often we work out and using that as an excuse to grope biceps and pretty soon, everything else. this guy has me so fuckin turned on, arms bigger than my head and a big broad chest, nice not-too-big dick, foreskin, lots of precome. before i can get down, he turns me around and is grinding into me, between my legs. he says something along the lines of, damn i wish i didn't have to go. i hate quickies.
2. i'm at the station, and, you guessed it, this sexy guy is walking around. he's big and thick, my serious weakness, with big arms and chest, and ... surprise! a 'tom of finland' (might as well be 'friend of dorothy') t-shirt, which marks him as a team player hands down. i want my hands on him, dammit. this cruising is different from the one i told you about last timei'm sweating the clean sweat of post-workout, post-shower, pre-cum, and luckily my white oxford is untucked, because my periwinkle cords are showing the size dick that i thankfully inherited from the european, not asian, side of the family. dad would be proud. 6. it definitely is a quickie, because everything is shoved. down my throat, up in me, mouth on my nips, it's all the kind of sex where you wanna be gentle and enjoy it, but you're in a hurry, so there's a jerking at the beginning where you can't really wait to break in slowly. the lights are still on. i always sweat like crazy when i'm getting stuck.
3. except he's seriously not giving me the time of day, and i'm too tired to press the issue. i start to doze off on the train, but can't stop looking at him. i stand up while it's getting close to my stop. he briefly pinches his nipple, then returns to lightly grabbing his bulging crotch. nintendo ain't got nuthin on this game boy. we dismount and stroke up the stairs, once we get outside i can say hi. i'm very unsure about the whole way i'm perceived, because i think that i "look" bent, but i look at other gay men and don't see all that in me, and when it's guys like this i tend to get along better with them than maybe a queeny guy would. anyway, what i'm trying to get to is that i butch it up and do one of those nods when i finally make eye contact with him. 7. he's got hickeys all over his chest, which he later tells me are from a "straight" friend of his that recently gave sodomy a shot. apparently he liked it. he wants me to cum, which is cool, and wants me to be noisy, which ... i suppose doesn't kill me. i help him find his friend's place once we wrap up, and then. fuck. i was supposed to call y. and so i do this, an hour late, lube still all over my ass. we've been up front that things are going to go slowly for now, and that we can hang out with other guys, but i can't help considering, annoyed, that this is a test i didn't pass. if i was doing this site with more than one entry for each alphabet letter, i would do a page called compassion along with content.
4. whassup. (my stock come-on line.) we exchange names, he's a little bit lost, and to make a long story short, we're back at my place. i say, listen, i don't really do this (or do i?), but i thought you were cute so thought i'd say hi. he's cool, and then we start doing this thing that cracks me up - 8. a little bit of time later and my head has cleared somewhat. it's like this: i really dig guys (and sometimes girls, but that's a whole 'nother page, to be written when i'm there), and to me, this is a desire that runs parallel to me being with someone more intensely. i enjoy having a guy to hang out with regularly, and i get different things from that than i do from the thrill of looking at someone and smiling and seeing if we'd wanna get horizontal. not that it's always horizontal. too bad i already wrote an 'h' entry.
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