Towards Perfection
Jun. 5th, 2021 04:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thepnutgalleryJulian took his breakfast shot, which I thought was troubling, but didn't say anything about because...I don't know. Nonconfrontational. I had a few things to get done in the morning and wanted to clean up a little more before Tom & Jeff arrived. I wasn't really sure what else to do, I just thought I should do more. Problem solved; they cancelled. I kind of thought that might happen, tbh. All good for me to be fine with a puppy pile in the living room, but these are older, successful people, and they're more likely to need their own space. I really should have looked up how to change a shower head, but I just figured I needed a wrench or something. The Ralph's version of Immodium was on crazy super sale. $2/12...or $10/24. I wondered if that was some kind of psych trick to convince me to buy more, but I bought more anyway. Unfortunately, even with the wrench, I couldn't get the shower head changed. There will be opportunities in the future. I double checked with Julian on his plans for the party. I'd wanted us to go over cleaning days ago so he could get the hang of it, but we had obvious detours. Zero problems if he just wanted to top, but if he wanted to bottom, he needed to make sure he was ready for that. He wanted to flip. Gave the basics on getting cleaned up and estimated time required, and he was ready surprisingly quickly. Chance was able to get Fisting Clean in what surely must be Guinness World Record time, so I don't judge. Besides, despite all my planning, my tummy informed me I wasn't going anywhere just as we were about to leave. I know alcohol can upset a stomach, so I made sure to have a drink a while before we left. Really wish I'd been able to figure out the shower situation. I almost sent him without me, but ultimately managed to get reasonably confident. We talked more about expectations and apprehensions. He was similarly fantastical in his fears here as his defenses when previous attempts to introduce him to himself have been made. But we've got this. He was scaring himself. Telling himself ghost stories. Is there a kind of prefix in the vein of opti and pessi that would mean you always imagine and see the scariest? Maybe it's just anxiety. I told him to focus on all the fun *we* were going to have, not what could go wrong with the fun.
When we finally found parking, I quoted Deee-Lite to him: We're going to dance, and have some fun. And when we walked in, "Groove is in the Heart" was playing. Julian loves that song. Not saying I believe in omens, just noting pleasant coincidences. This is also part of a larger trend in reclaiming music. Music I heard during my addiction is slightly caustic, and music that Meeker liked is similar. But since I'm flying so high on life right now, I can re-associate them with positive emotions. Even though we arrived almost two hours after the party started, it was predictably crowded but unpredictably clothed. Cool for Julian's insecurity, just surprising. It was so wonderful to see so many good friends again. Friends who last saw me hurtling towards suicide by addiction. I didn't mention any of that, but I don't think I needed to. I was explicit with Bryan. He knows me extremely well, and in another timeline, became partners. Wary of my confidence on readiness, and not trying to tell myself any ghost stories, I opted not to drink at all. Just weed. Julian and I talked in between him meeting everyone, and he agreed with FHA: it was just a pool party. And he'd try to stop telling himself ghost stories. We kissed. I asked if he was still down to start the fucking and he was down...until I pulled him in the bedroom and started taking off my suit. I'm still not really following the mechanics, but he thought there would be privacy between the couples at the orgy. He was obstinate, but didn't raise his voice, didn't throw a tantrum. He relented when I offered to take him home and come back alone. This was our agreement for Guidelines. Contract Modification requires mutual assent. I would (understandably, I think) burn a contract before I allowed certain modifications to be forced.
We fucked and it was surreal. Absolutely amazing. Phenomenally connected, brilliant fucking that felt somehow simultaneously public and private. Literally like we were fucking alone in one dimension, but could sense another dimension with people at the same time. I'd blame the weed, but Julian is the one who mentioned it when we went outside after to smoke. We took a break, chatted more with the slightly more relaxed attendees, and I ended up Shazaming about 5 different songs. Or so. That actually seems to be one of the signs I'm in a Positive timeline. It's going to take me a very long time to get through all the music I (and others on my behalf) have Shazamed since falling back in love with Julian. Again, no omens, just overall radiance of the universe. A little later, we saw another couple getting ready to fuck. Not wanting to force an ensemble performance from an intended duet, we just fucked next to them. It was Paul and his boyfriend(?) Billy. Billy is incredibly cute, Paul is gorgeous and has one of those cocks where his balls tighten up to be like...part of the shaft and it's beautiful. Those same juxtaposed dimensions happened between me and Julian, I came close, so to speak, to cumming well over a dozen times, and I precame a bucket. It was beautiful. And Julian just kept laughing at all the Firsts he was getting to check off his Bucket List. Fucking in a crowd, making introductions while inside me, etc. I even talked to Paul, since I wasn't sure of his feelings on me. That whole...no-showing for a gig because I was nervous and got too high thing. And G-ing out in front of him so many times. After, we chatted with FHA, David, & David...how did that never occur to me before? Just a detail I hadn't noticed. I'm not even sure if I ever managed to say hi to Shade David. Julian, I've now noticed, becomes casually emotionally abusive when he's nervous. When I was in middle school, my best friend was eventually what passed for a girlfriend in such situations (not to say that all pre-chrysalis relationships feature a kiss on the cheek for Valentine's, just that mine pretty obviously would), but her mum said she couldn't come over anymore because my dad was emotionally abusive. I didn't understand it at the time, but damn, do I get it now. I hate that feeling like there's something you forgot to do, but I finally figured one of them out. I should have texted Patrick about the party. He must have heard me, because he walked in right after I mentioned that. He didn't stay long, since he had dinner plans and has decided on celibacy for the time being, but it was so wonderful to see him again.
We dried off, he drank more, and he wanted to go outside to smoke. He struggled for a second, but eventually told me to go hop on in if the orgy room was jumping. I would have, but I couldn't sense any kind of connection potential with anyone in there. They were all attractive, of course, but just...not the right time. When Julian went to get booze at one point, a very, very, very attractive gentleman named Chuck said hi to me, equipped with his perfectly groomed, skyward bound cock. Julian returned because he couldn't find the beer and didn't want to resort to liquour. Bonus points for staying within his guidelines for moderation. Chuck was still friendly, but he moved away as he spoke and eventually left. It started getting chill and all the booze Julian had been imbibing all day hit his stomach. He was not okay to bottom at all and ultimately took me up on my offer to take him home.
He got his tummy figured out, I was going to order City Dragon for us, but then I remembered the $1700 car rental for having it so long and related issues. Home cooking it is. Soy curls are bassically very thin chicken strips. Julian has cooked for his family for at least the last 6 years and IDGAF what I eat within the vegan spectrum. There's no reason we can't make this work. I made Orange Curls with Mongolian noodles and it was good, except I touched the handle at one point and it burned me, causing me to spill my drink and burn the curls. We'd talked about fucking again later, but he took his pants off when Tim called, and while I was pretty sure of myself, I wanted to make sure before going at it again. Tim and I talked about the party, and about the interview he'd sent me this morning. The editor of Teen Vogue, etc., had formed a relationship with her father, who'd spent many years in jail for rape, and she herself had been sexually assaulted in her youth. One of her points was about pretending you don't have a connection with, for example, family members. I didn't understand why he wanted me to hear that, but on the phone with him, it occurred to me what a good friend Colleen is. He'd previously talked about her previous bout with breast cancer being easily metaphored to the hole from being denied a relationship with me. By me. And I finally got to talk to younger me about the 3 Wishes. The way to bring everyone together is for them to be self-aware. To not lash out, to communicate, etc. I can't do it for them. Obv. That even helps me, really, because of course I still love Justin and Tim and all of my other exes, with the possible exception of Meeker. Both due to my Preemptive Sliding Doors anxiety and Julian's Jealousy, I really worried about people I wouldn't get to connect with, give to, and assist now that I'm married. But why the fuck can't I? Love multiplies, it doesn't divide. Not to say my status as married or even choices made couldn't still place me in different situations, just that my marriage in and of itself shouldn't affect any of that.
I got a text from Brandon. He was the gent who'd messaged me on Grindr a few years ago, then told me he was 16. And a fisting bottom. I really can't fathom knowing myself that well at that age. Not that he didn't have troubles. He'd previously been a bug chaser, and last I checked, had been getting very into parTying. I was sliding down my own rabbit hole at the time, and we lost touch. He'd now been sober for several months and moved back in with his parents. I updated him on my marital status with Julian, we jerked off for a bit together, then I and sent him the pic from the Fox Den. He said I looked just like his partner...who'd killed himself. Just gonna...put this away, then. I really would love to study suicide, even though it would be a dangerous field of study for me. We talked some about the impact that absence leaves, and he felt better, but had to go for dinner.
When Julian woke up, we drank together and talked about the day. He'd been apologizing for his tummy profusely all day, and continued now. It happens, and it could have been a lot worse. I think everyone was eager for parties to happen again, just found themselves nervous in the face of it. So it was a great first step. Getting to show people the new, non-burning-train-crash version of me. Of us. And it was a great first step *for* us. From fucking in front of everyone to him giving permission for me to jump in the swarm of men while he smoked to all our constant discussion and analysis. We leveled up. And then we fucked again.
When we finally found parking, I quoted Deee-Lite to him: We're going to dance, and have some fun. And when we walked in, "Groove is in the Heart" was playing. Julian loves that song. Not saying I believe in omens, just noting pleasant coincidences. This is also part of a larger trend in reclaiming music. Music I heard during my addiction is slightly caustic, and music that Meeker liked is similar. But since I'm flying so high on life right now, I can re-associate them with positive emotions. Even though we arrived almost two hours after the party started, it was predictably crowded but unpredictably clothed. Cool for Julian's insecurity, just surprising. It was so wonderful to see so many good friends again. Friends who last saw me hurtling towards suicide by addiction. I didn't mention any of that, but I don't think I needed to. I was explicit with Bryan. He knows me extremely well, and in another timeline, became partners. Wary of my confidence on readiness, and not trying to tell myself any ghost stories, I opted not to drink at all. Just weed. Julian and I talked in between him meeting everyone, and he agreed with FHA: it was just a pool party. And he'd try to stop telling himself ghost stories. We kissed. I asked if he was still down to start the fucking and he was down...until I pulled him in the bedroom and started taking off my suit. I'm still not really following the mechanics, but he thought there would be privacy between the couples at the orgy. He was obstinate, but didn't raise his voice, didn't throw a tantrum. He relented when I offered to take him home and come back alone. This was our agreement for Guidelines. Contract Modification requires mutual assent. I would (understandably, I think) burn a contract before I allowed certain modifications to be forced.
We fucked and it was surreal. Absolutely amazing. Phenomenally connected, brilliant fucking that felt somehow simultaneously public and private. Literally like we were fucking alone in one dimension, but could sense another dimension with people at the same time. I'd blame the weed, but Julian is the one who mentioned it when we went outside after to smoke. We took a break, chatted more with the slightly more relaxed attendees, and I ended up Shazaming about 5 different songs. Or so. That actually seems to be one of the signs I'm in a Positive timeline. It's going to take me a very long time to get through all the music I (and others on my behalf) have Shazamed since falling back in love with Julian. Again, no omens, just overall radiance of the universe. A little later, we saw another couple getting ready to fuck. Not wanting to force an ensemble performance from an intended duet, we just fucked next to them. It was Paul and his boyfriend(?) Billy. Billy is incredibly cute, Paul is gorgeous and has one of those cocks where his balls tighten up to be like...part of the shaft and it's beautiful. Those same juxtaposed dimensions happened between me and Julian, I came close, so to speak, to cumming well over a dozen times, and I precame a bucket. It was beautiful. And Julian just kept laughing at all the Firsts he was getting to check off his Bucket List. Fucking in a crowd, making introductions while inside me, etc. I even talked to Paul, since I wasn't sure of his feelings on me. That whole...no-showing for a gig because I was nervous and got too high thing. And G-ing out in front of him so many times. After, we chatted with FHA, David, & David...how did that never occur to me before? Just a detail I hadn't noticed. I'm not even sure if I ever managed to say hi to Shade David. Julian, I've now noticed, becomes casually emotionally abusive when he's nervous. When I was in middle school, my best friend was eventually what passed for a girlfriend in such situations (not to say that all pre-chrysalis relationships feature a kiss on the cheek for Valentine's, just that mine pretty obviously would), but her mum said she couldn't come over anymore because my dad was emotionally abusive. I didn't understand it at the time, but damn, do I get it now. I hate that feeling like there's something you forgot to do, but I finally figured one of them out. I should have texted Patrick about the party. He must have heard me, because he walked in right after I mentioned that. He didn't stay long, since he had dinner plans and has decided on celibacy for the time being, but it was so wonderful to see him again.
We dried off, he drank more, and he wanted to go outside to smoke. He struggled for a second, but eventually told me to go hop on in if the orgy room was jumping. I would have, but I couldn't sense any kind of connection potential with anyone in there. They were all attractive, of course, but just...not the right time. When Julian went to get booze at one point, a very, very, very attractive gentleman named Chuck said hi to me, equipped with his perfectly groomed, skyward bound cock. Julian returned because he couldn't find the beer and didn't want to resort to liquour. Bonus points for staying within his guidelines for moderation. Chuck was still friendly, but he moved away as he spoke and eventually left. It started getting chill and all the booze Julian had been imbibing all day hit his stomach. He was not okay to bottom at all and ultimately took me up on my offer to take him home.
He got his tummy figured out, I was going to order City Dragon for us, but then I remembered the $1700 car rental for having it so long and related issues. Home cooking it is. Soy curls are bassically very thin chicken strips. Julian has cooked for his family for at least the last 6 years and IDGAF what I eat within the vegan spectrum. There's no reason we can't make this work. I made Orange Curls with Mongolian noodles and it was good, except I touched the handle at one point and it burned me, causing me to spill my drink and burn the curls. We'd talked about fucking again later, but he took his pants off when Tim called, and while I was pretty sure of myself, I wanted to make sure before going at it again. Tim and I talked about the party, and about the interview he'd sent me this morning. The editor of Teen Vogue, etc., had formed a relationship with her father, who'd spent many years in jail for rape, and she herself had been sexually assaulted in her youth. One of her points was about pretending you don't have a connection with, for example, family members. I didn't understand why he wanted me to hear that, but on the phone with him, it occurred to me what a good friend Colleen is. He'd previously talked about her previous bout with breast cancer being easily metaphored to the hole from being denied a relationship with me. By me. And I finally got to talk to younger me about the 3 Wishes. The way to bring everyone together is for them to be self-aware. To not lash out, to communicate, etc. I can't do it for them. Obv. That even helps me, really, because of course I still love Justin and Tim and all of my other exes, with the possible exception of Meeker. Both due to my Preemptive Sliding Doors anxiety and Julian's Jealousy, I really worried about people I wouldn't get to connect with, give to, and assist now that I'm married. But why the fuck can't I? Love multiplies, it doesn't divide. Not to say my status as married or even choices made couldn't still place me in different situations, just that my marriage in and of itself shouldn't affect any of that.
I got a text from Brandon. He was the gent who'd messaged me on Grindr a few years ago, then told me he was 16. And a fisting bottom. I really can't fathom knowing myself that well at that age. Not that he didn't have troubles. He'd previously been a bug chaser, and last I checked, had been getting very into parTying. I was sliding down my own rabbit hole at the time, and we lost touch. He'd now been sober for several months and moved back in with his parents. I updated him on my marital status with Julian, we jerked off for a bit together, then I and sent him the pic from the Fox Den. He said I looked just like his partner...who'd killed himself. Just gonna...put this away, then. I really would love to study suicide, even though it would be a dangerous field of study for me. We talked some about the impact that absence leaves, and he felt better, but had to go for dinner.
When Julian woke up, we drank together and talked about the day. He'd been apologizing for his tummy profusely all day, and continued now. It happens, and it could have been a lot worse. I think everyone was eager for parties to happen again, just found themselves nervous in the face of it. So it was a great first step. Getting to show people the new, non-burning-train-crash version of me. Of us. And it was a great first step *for* us. From fucking in front of everyone to him giving permission for me to jump in the swarm of men while he smoked to all our constant discussion and analysis. We leveled up. And then we fucked again.
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