Pride celebrations in Toronto (i.e. NYC-Lite) passed this weekend, and to kick things off, Lofty Ex hosted a purist-party (as in, one must wear all-white) at his condominium. Yes, the ex with whom I had been admittedly bitter, the ex from whom I felt the need to receive vindication, and the ex with whom I can finally be amicable – albeit after a six-month hiatus from him. I figured that you could use the refresher – but I digress. Of course, reappearance after said hiatus requires one to look stunning and hot in all-white, regardless of the amicability; let’s be honest here, it is a party… nay, a gay party… nay, a gay party during Pride and bound to be teeming with other eye-candy. As well, my reappearance would be
incomplete if it was not with the accompaniment of my Straight Girlfriends Entourage.Armed with a hot outfit, for which I had spent the last five days shopping for the right tone of white to match my white jeans, and my entourage, who have also spent days searching for that all-white outfit, the festivities were off to a good start. I knew that I was finally mentally and emotionally in the right frame of mind when I saw Lofty Ex and had nothing but smiles. With the sincerity of our smiles, I finally found the closure I needed for our epic novel, which clearly meant that the party could finally start. Even more relieving is finding that my friends got along well with Lofty Ex and his friends. Furthermore, realizing that even the friends that I had met through him had also missed me was refreshing, because one always wonders if you can maintain friendships with people you met through a former relationship.
Ironically, the first affair of the weekend was serendipitously catalyzed by a conversation with Veggie and Lewey, with Lewey being Lofty Ex’s ex-boyfriend, prior to me. Anyhow, a catch-up conversation with Veggie and Lewey had required a refill of our drinks; thus, we lead up to the
initiation. A glance back at the bar, to determine if anyone was mixing drinks, resulted in so much more than jus a new drink. Actually, it resulted in a guaranteed hot affair for Friday night – quite the way to kick off Pride weekend, indeed. It was already three hours into the party, and at least 40 individuals, half of which had been previous affairs and could be tracked within six degrees of separation, had filled up the condominium. As a result, greetings with these individuals had been quite the entertaining and oh-so-obvious greetings of, Hey, I know you, followed by mutual laughter that only happens with two people that have clearly slept together.Mr. Mahn and I had been trying to arrange a sexy meeting for months to no avail, because either I was in the city and he was out of the province or I was unavailable for the weekends he was free. Consequently, I had abandoned any real hope of meeting him anytime soon. However, when the room can be connected within six degrees of separation, I should not have been stupefied upon seeing Mr. Mahn pouring drinks at the kitchen, just as I had offered to refresh some
drinks for Veggie and Lewey and me. Unbeknownst to me was the facial expression that accompanied my overwhelming feeling of serendipity combined with near-mortification, which was also apparently visible to Veggie and Lewey. And with that, the evening truly began.So over to the kitchen I went, with the go-ahead not to refresh the drinks for Veggie and Lewey, and the dance of the peacocks was on full-throttle. There we were, complimenting each other (really if smiles could kill), regaling each other of how nearly impossible this meeting should have been, and how serendipitous it truly was to have common social circles. In reality, however, it was truly by chance that he had attended the party because he had not been directly invited – albeit we were well within six degrees of separation. So naturally, the dance moved from the kitchen, to the living room, then to the balcony. It was simply a healthy combination of wit, literally hands in pants and sensual kisses on a balcony overlooking a beautiful city. Thus, I shamefully exclaim that within an hour of meeting each other and heavy flirtation, we found ourselves running from the party and into his place.
We had not even reached the ground floor from Lofty Ex’s condominium and we were practically ravaging each other in the elevator, followed by running from the subway station and up to his own condominium. With the shut of the door, the dance
had turned into one of the hottest sexual experiences in my books thus far. There we were, ravaging and stripping each other in his foyer, it was as if with our clothes went the slick veneer of human sophistication - we had, figuratively, just crawled right out of a cave. The overwhelming feeling of actually losing yourself in that sexual moment, and my dears, this was just the foreplay. Never mind the pinning against the wall and smothering of hot kisses, or the queen-size bed that still felt modest in size, or the sensual shower that followed. Usually, one would expect the evening to end there; however, it is a festive weekend, and what better way to celebrate by returning to the party crowd after a two-hour session.The realist in me would have thought that walking out of his place would be the end of our interaction. However, Mr. Mahn and I actually spent the rest of the evening dancing, kissing, sweating together. Even during the walk back to mingle with the party crowd, he held my hand and was sincerely conversing with me. Of course it is still too early to tell anything, but the signs looks good, and I am certainly relishing the mutual sprungness.
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