Sunday, 22^nd May 2016

Dearest friend,

Over a week has passed since my last rant, so little has changed… My hunger for the weekend was just as intense as the last; I looked forward to getting away and closing the lid around my everyday worries. Just being able to live in the moment and feel young!

I didn’t attend counselling last Wednesday. I called in and used the excuse that I had the flu, postponing till next week, and my wishes were granted.

I went to The George again on Saturday night, with the hopes that I may find the sweet gentleman I met the week before. My search was in vain, as he wasn’t in sight, and so I drank the night away to the music in the bar and felt pretty up-beat to say the least.

I got kissed twice on the dancefloor (during intervals of the other) by cute charming guys, but none sweet enough to bring me home, ha-ha!

At about 2a.m. I headed to the bathhouse for a second time, to see what magic the night may bring me. It was a lot busier than the last weekend; many gay men that were present at the nightclub came to the bathhouse after. Most were tipsy and jolly; looking around and lounging in either the sauna or jacuzzi. There were men of all ages, from early twenties to late fifties; some muscular and clean-cut and others chubby and slouched.

I wasn’t at all interested in the older men; they were terribly old-fashioned, pervy and had poor standards. For example, an awkwardly shy young lad (near my age) had been checking me out for a while as I lay comfortably in the jacuzzi alone.

At some point he mustered the courage to enter the jacuzzi, too, and he smiled my way as he removed his towel and exposed himself naked, before entering. I gave the boy a knowing glance, signalling I understood his signs of interest in me, before averting my gaze elsewhere; enjoying the warmth and relaxation of the jacuzzi, as bubbles erupted from beneath…

I didn’t want sex – not yet – I was so much enjoying the intense chemistry leading up to its possibility.

Good chemistry always leads to more passionate and sensational sessions than a senseless quickie; that is not for me… So the boy sat opposite me, pretty much facing me, and had this look mixed with desire and tentativeness, that it made me smirk a little; I couldn’t help myself!

Suddenly two old men entered the jacuzzi, reasonably fit but wrinkled and greyed hair. One sat to the left of the boy and the other to the right of me. I could tell the boy wanted to up and go but waited for me to move.

I didn’t, and waited to see what he might do next; perhaps speak with me or make a move…

I can’t assume anything based on a wink here and a smile there; communication is very important to me…

I barely gave so much as a glance at the other men in the jacuzzi; they were so removed from my psyche, they might as well have not been there at all…

But…I felt a hand reach up my leg and I knew it couldn’t have been the boy’s, so I shifted slightly to show disapproval.

Again, I felt the hand on me; this time trying to grope my penis. I raised my knees and pushed the hand away from me, telling the man I wasn’t interested. Instead of respecting my personal space and moving away, this act of rejection only irritated him.

“What’s the problem? It’s only a bit of fun!”

“Fun or no fun, I’m not interested…”

“Why not? Sure, this is a sauna… Everyone wants to get their cock sucked.”

I began to become increasingly uncomfortable, looking directly at the boy in front of me, who wore an expression that suggested sympathy. From the tone of the man beside me, it appeared he delighted chancing his arm by making moves on me.

“I don’t care where we are, you’re not my type… Touch me again and I’ll break your arm!”

Instantly the man’s eyes flared wide, not expecting my response. And with that, I retreated from the jacuzzi; putting on my sandals and towel, and leaving that area.

For anyone that observed the scene, I behaved with the sense that I carried myself well and had a look of strength, while deep down I’m really screaming!

I went down to the second floor, to the entertainment room, where it was quiet and had no people at this point. Gay pornography was playing on the television, the sound mute, and a song called Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey was heard in the overhead speakers.

I wasn’t feeling at all aroused sexually; the screen became a mere picture dissolving into hot colours, I was that much in a trance.

I kept thinking: “Why do I always run into drama? When, oh when, can I get a bit of peace?!”

I sat back on the bare bench, which was attached to the wall as a sort of seating area, two of them connected like a sort of large step; I sat on the upper one, trying to pull myself together and remind myself of where I was.

I don’t know how much time passed, but at some point, I noticed the boy from the jacuzzi standing in the doorway, glancing first up at the plasma screen and then over at me. I looked at him intently, as he stood there positioned against the doorway, gazing at me with a facial expression that suggested friendliness and light-hearted flirtation; all from his beautiful smile.

I didn’t know how to best approach him; I mean, how do these things work? What’s the appropriate step to show interest?

I wasn’t confident about this sort of thing, not at all, and by the seems of things, he wasn’t so experienced either.

In any case, before long the boy sat down next to me on the bench, without my having to signal him over. As looks go, he had jet black wavy styled hair, bright green eyes and tanned skin it seemed.

Moments passed where nothing was said or done; we looked on at the screen in quiet, as though we may have been attending the cinema…

On screen it showed a young jock spying on his coach taking a shower in the gym locker rooms; the irony made me chuckle a bit.

Of course, this brought curiosity out in the boy, and so I explained by comparing the porn scene to the awkward incident in the jacuzzi, from the view that we were “spied on”… Luckily, he got the joke and noticed how I found humour in things.

“You’re not from Dublin, I can tell. Where’d you come from?” he asked, amused.

“I’m Irish,” I said, not telling too much.

“Really? I would have guessed English or French.”

To this I sniggered slightly. “Yes, I assure you, I’m Irish… I live in Galway.”

And so, our conversation flowed naturally from there; by introducing ourselves (with slight boasting), explaining our whereabouts, interests and how our night out went.

“My night was fun. I went to The George for a few drinks; it was great craic tonight. And then found myself here,” I humorously added.

He said he also went to The George with his workmates but didn’t see me there. The nightclub was pretty crowded to be fair…

I was really loving this chat we were having, and loved how genuine and sweet he was being with me…

His smile and soft-spoken voice offered a sort of reassurance; it brought me to new depths I never thought this place could bring…

And when he reached out to put his hand on my leg, I didn’t resist the gesture – but actually complied by then putting my hand in his…

There was something powerful about taking somebody else’s hand in yours and not fearing what may come next…

All which unfolds are in the hands of the beholder!

I held his hand as he lifted me up onto my feet and moved from room to room, seeking a place where we could be alone without interruption.

It wasn’t possible, however, as the place was overdue and the cleaning service takes place every three hours or so, which means those floors getting worked on were closed until finished. It just so happened this was occurring around our time together. So, we did something I didn’t expect.

He brought me up to the top floor; the playroom area, where it was dark surrounded by already occupied private rooms, and as you enter to the right there is this open bench area – very much like the second floor – for adult entertainment.

We lay down on top of each other, on the bench-like seating, with the colours on screen as a source for visibility. You must bear in mind this was a sort of dark room… It was a tight squeeze for us to rest there, but something felt exciting about it. It was nice to feel his cool skin against mine, as lay facing each other.

Many young men emerged from the darkness and stood by gawking at us with awe fascination, as the boy and me immersed ourselves in each other.

I learned the boy’s name, but I don’t know him well enough to use his name in my letters, and I don’t think it’s right as principle, so I’ll invent a pseudonym in any case.

Harry and I had such a breath-taking time together.

In terms of positioning, I took on the active role as Harry put trust in my coming advances; creating a sort of process in which we came to know each other’s body and its senses.

First, I lay on top of Harry and we kissed in this position; once that happened everything felt in perfect sync. He was such a beautiful kisser and was really tender; I could see he was in no way pushed or pressurizing through the process, but actually took care with the next move and was incredibly sensitive in his exploration of me.

I gave him a full body massage, for example, and was very sensual in the way I touched and explored his body, that it brought sudden gasps of relief to the surface and moans of pleasure.

Everything about his body and entire being was gorgeous – something that could only have been crafted by The Divine themselves. I was certain God could only have been very proud the day Harry was made!

I kissed him all over, taking my time, and almost devouring his sweet body scent; the kind that strangely reminded me of boyhood innocence, his smooth frame perfect in every way.

What made this particularly an interesting experience was that we expressed intimacy without actually having sex; all our efforts and energies were performed through kisses and touch – very much the same time… And I suppose that caused a sense of wonder in Harry.
“Where did you learn that? That was amazing!”

“What?” I asked, incredulous.

“The way you’re intimate, it’s so intense… Honestly, that was the best massage I ever had, and you’re a very good kisser.”

“Back atcha!”

“Thanks, Jason. Seriously, that was lovely.”

After cuddling into each other for about twenty minutes, intently silent, we rose from our slumber and went down to the coffee bar for a proper catch up over morning tea. I changed back into my clothes before having done so.

It was nice; so nice to talk to someone about life from a distance like this, and without the pressure of meeting expectations. I found the whole spontaneity thrilling, and as for guys telling me I’m good looking, finding me sexy or watching me perform in my own taste, perhaps I’m a bit of an exhibitionist at heart!

Seriously, though.
Despite how appearances play themselves out, it’s all an act of entertainment; nothing about my swagger portrays true sincerity. And perhaps that’s the heart at play; not emotionally driven (or close to my heart), with all it’s risks and beauty.

For just a moment, it was satisfying to offer a bravado and not take anything with myself too seriously, but actually to play by feel and see what happens.

At least with this I felt the sense of things moving forward and working in my favour; not as though everything in my reach has stood still.

I preferred to play the disguise; at least from here it’s given my nights purpose - and not the feeling of being deeply alone and unhappy…

Oh, if only things in reality were this easy to maintain!

Yours, Jay.

Grace's Dear Diary