So I know this guy, see…he’s a good guy. Regular, got problems like everybody, but a good soul. And he met this girl. This a-MAZ-ing girl, he says. He says that he’s “seen” her a couple times. I know what he means. He’s an adventurer, this guy…he says he’s on this “journey of discovery”. He wants to discover himself. He may not seem like it to look at him or to be around him, but he was really inhibited and repressed with sex all his life. He and I talk…about everything, really. Lot’s of reasons, he’ll tell you…like the time when he was at confession (he calls himself a “recovering catholic” I’m sure you know lots of those) and being a good little Catholic boy of about…oh…seven, eight maybe…he took the whole thing very seriously, the Church, the Eucharist, the Sacraments, altar boy, the whole nine yards…so he told this priest, this old parish guy, seen and heard it all…twice probably…and an alky most likely, sick of the whiners and adulterers and thieves and liars and self-righteous prigs…maybe banging an altar boy or a nun (or both) on the side…so this sweet little kid, my friend, he reaches down, screws up his courage…’cause he want to be honest, and he tells this old parish guy, “I-I-I touched myself.”
DEAD SILENCE from the other side of the screen. They had these screens in those days. And you could hear the murmur from the other side where another poor soul was spilling just enough of what they thought would save ‘em from the hot place (the priest was in the middle between two doors with this sliding wood thing behind a screen so you couldn’t really see who the priest was and when it was your turn, that old wood would scrape and the air would change and you’d start: “Bless me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was (and you say how long it had been since you asked God to make you clean again…so He and His Son could save you…’cause if you weren’t clean FIRST…you couldn’t be saved). And the old wood smelled like sweat and scared breath and folks afraid of what God would do to them for just being FOLKS…ferchrissakes.
So dead silence…and the old guy was counting the beads of sweat popping from the little fella’s brow…the old guy knew…he could hear ‘em. Then he said, in his low voice, heavy with practiced gravitas…”I’m trying to figure out whether this is a mortal sin or not.” Then he went quiet. And he waited for the words to sink in…MOR-TAL SIN. The sin (for Catholics) that would send you straight to hell. STRAIGHT. TO. HELL. For ALL eternity. Of course the poor kid, my friend, was scared shitless. And of course this old asshole priest knew just exactly what he was doing to this poor kid and another brick in the wall of the Legacy of the Catholic Guilt was laid. Now my friend, he loves to tell this story. And he doesn’t attribute all his sexual fucked-up-ness to the incident…but it was a lot of stuff like that and what he learned about sex from his Mom…who is a WHOLE ‘nother story…and him being a little passive, not so assertive with the girls, when he was younger, and then his whole “cock problem” thing like he calls it, where he used to feel like he didn’t have one, ‘cause maybe he needed a little more chemistry with a girl or something…but even if he REALLY liked or even loved her he had a (not so) hard time. But he says vitamin “V” pretty much fixed that. He actually says “Uncle Pfizer gave him his cock back.” Fucking Big Pharma’s good for something after all.
Anyway...This girl..He says he never laughed during sex before. He never had a great time getting his cock worked on like she did to him. He says he was laughing so much that she was wondering what was going on. He said he wanted to talk more but he was having, and he said this; “So goddamn much fun.” That he didn’t talk like he usually does…he likes to talk, he says…and he was so happy with playing with her tits (he says they are amazing and I believe him, I mean, he’s seen ‘em, I haven’t) and he just went on and on and on about her pussy and how responsive she was and how he hoped she wasn’t getting bored with all the fun HE was having and that he didn’t even get to get to the kink he wanted to try (‘cause he says he gets pretty creative) and that maybe they could get to that sometime. And I started to get a little concerned and well, I said…”Wait a minute there, Cowboy…you can’t be getting’ SPRUNG on this gal. She’s…uhhhh…well, ummm…she may LIKE you, but not in THAT way, capiche?” My friend, he gets pensive…”Yeah,” he says “I know. From where we started, and for how we “met” and what we “do”…that’s just not something that ends up happening, or even being a good idea.” “But stuff like that happens, doesn’t it?” “Oh yeah. Guys get the signals confused all the time. It’s easy, really. It’s easy to misunderstand or “forget” what’s going on. Happens a lot. Sometimes…rarely…it works out. Once in a Blue Moon, they say. Mostly, though…not a good idea.” “Does she know you like her?” “I HOPE so. I mean she said to call and email whenever…I think she’s sweet to say that, and I think I know that she knows that she likes me pretty well, and I’m glad. I really like how we get along and what we do. But the other…you know, I’m like 20 plus years her senior…she’s got lots of “friends” and a busy life. She sounds pretty happy about who she is and what she does.” “Oh so you think maybe she’s thinkin’ that you’re thinking that you and her…?” “Yeah, maybe that…” my buddy says “Man…I hope not. Not like I wouldn’t, and not like we don’t get along, but…no. I wouldn’t want her to think I think that. I mean she IS really amazing, man, she’s like my sexual muse. I have never, EVER been like that…and I have been having so much fun that I haven’t even gotten to MY kinks…” “OK, OK…we’ve been there already…” I interrupted…”we’re pals and all…BUT…” “Yeah, OK…” He says, “but man, I think about her and I just start laughing…she says she wants my dick to get hard when I think about her and me...did I tell you that? Well guess what?” And this biiiig grin lit up his face. Now I have never seen him grin like that, and I’ve known him a long time. He’s just been through a real bunch of shit lately and it’s great to see him so happy.
“So what now, man? You aren’t really…” I can’t help it. This has got disaster for this poor sucker written all over it if he gets all...well if he doesn’t “understand” or “get” the situation. “Well, I just really like her. Not as a “girlfriend”, ‘cause I know that is not gonna happen. Probably SHOULDN’T happen even if it could. I mean, for myself…I don’t want a primary exclusive relationship with anyone, anyway. I just don’t think I’m built that way anymore. I can probably do poly. I want to try it. Maybe I can find a bunch of like minded and like-hearted folks…I kinda don’t know where to start, but the CPSC may be a good place. I want to participate in the “lifestyle” in a more “out” way, I think. I’m easing into it. Besides…I’M very busy, I’m so happily single I can’t stand it sometimes, and I want to drink in whatever comes my way.” So this journey of his, it looks good on him. He does really like this girl…and he really doesn’t want to “insert” (her word, not his) himself where it’s not appropriate or wanted. Oh..and he says he would like to be kind of a “regular”. I knew what he meant. I’ve wanted to do that myself. I hope it works out. One thing about my friend, he’s very sensitive about keeping stuff where it ought to be. But he’s decided that he doesn’t want to miss out on anything, either. No regrets for not doing something he wanted to do…but didn’t.
Wow…long story, huh? Sorry about that, I get a little carried away. This guy, he’s a good guy. He says this gal is “aces”, too. He said a couple times how besides how much he liked her, he respected her for what she does…ALL the stuff…and her commitment and ambition. He’s a big fan of people, this guy is. He’s in it to have fun (he seems to be REALLY having fun), keep good boundaries and communication, and respect the “parameters” of the “relationship”. I don’t know WTF he was trying to say, but I guess he said it, didn’t he.