(and I am talking Christian Bale, circa American Psycho). To add insult to injury, the moment the wholly unnecessary tears and snot dry on your face, you realize that you have indeed become so jaded, such that you might need to reread Dating-101. Did I actually graze the teat of spinsterhood? More importantly, am I sub-consciously ruining my chances with Transformer?That moment of epiphany is glorious indeed, made even more glorious by the sudden news that Transformer is coming back a week earlier than I had anticipated. I had just spent the past week pining and wondering if it is worth waiting for Transformer to get back in touch with me. However, that really is just me caught up in my own turbulent emotions. Perhaps being in touch with my feminine side (aka gay) has actually caused my body to release that ever-infamous oxytocin – the chemical compound that supposedly causes women to grow attached to a man after having slept with him. In my case, I had not even slept with Transformer yet, and here I am wondering where it is all going, how long it will all last… and heaven forbid, if he is the one. Is that ridiculous? Most definitely.
Once the agonizing two days of waiting pass, I am obviously expecting that Transformer would be as equally anxious as I am to finally meet again – especially when both parties have expressed the mutual sexual tension. Although, to be honest, that sexual tension had been present the moment he said, “Hello,” from our first meeting. So, it should come to no surprise that I would want him to speed up the drive to London and finally show me the money(and yes, I was jumping furiously). But, when I find myself jumping with frustration because Transformer still has not sent me a MSN message, despite having been “Online” for half an hour, I have obviously gone crazy. The craziness is further emphasized by a message from him to the effect of “I’d like to see you in the very near future… maybe make out for a bit, if you're up for it.” Is that the key into my place? Hells yeah!
Even with just the Elevator Ride, there was already plenty of amuse-bouches served; hence, one can only imagine how much more activity occurred within the privacy of my very thin walls.
Despite the not-so-unexpected sexual Olympics, I was still pleasantly and plenty surprised with the consummation, which lasted 12 hours with only 5 hours of intermittent sleep, as breaks. Never mind the very titillating amuse-bouches served up by Transformer, the subsequent multi-multiple orgasms (yes, men can have them, too… and yes, gays count as men), or even the fact that each orgasm was intense and in sync (previously impossible, even when it was with my ex), because what made it all great was the cuddling, spooning, tickling and sweet kisses that happened in between all of it. Is it all too sickeningly sexy and happy? Thus, the morning after was feeling very Lesley Gore, and it is definitely not just metaphorical this time around. By 11 am, we finally peeled our writhing flesh off the bed and into the
kitchen for some breakfast: coffee and Montreal-style bagels. Although toasting bagels and firing up the coffeemaker did not require that much effort, we still ended up spending ample time canoodling in the kitchen. Why not, right? It’s not as if there was an actual heating element was in use (i.e. stovetop), and toasters do not count because they turn themselves off….but, I digress. Anyhow, eating breakfast at the bar area proceeded to him drawing on my leg, making snarky remarks followed
by a cutesy kiss, or heaven forbid, firing up our libidos again. Luckily, my Beautiful Fag-Hag (aka. roommate) arrives back home in time to join us for breakfast, cool our senses, and even smile back at our post-coital smiles. At that moment, I actually had an out-of-body experience because my happiness was almost surreal. It may have been the sex-a-thon, the cuddling, the breakfast, the approval of my Beautiful Fag-Hag, or a combination of it all. Are all my meetings with Transformer going to be whirlwinds, albeit very gratifying whirlwinds? And am I opposed to it? Should I be?
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