[it was probably the back-and-forth with noblesavage in my previous post that prompted my subconscious to cough up this particular mental hairball tonight--and as always, alcohol helped.]
so i'm over at his place for, like, the third or fourth time. unusual in my world to see anybody more than twice, but he's just so goddam beautiful--skin taut, smooth and that perfect shade of rosy-brown, and his hair--no matter how many times i run my hands through it, it always settles back into model-quality tousled perfection.
and the sex? that's good, too--so good, in fact, that on that third, or fourth [whatever--trust me, there won't be a fifth] night, i make a sufficient mess of both him and myself that a mere towel-off ain't gonna do; we have to jump in the shower.
he gets out first, tosses me a towel and then i get out, glance up--and freeze in horror.
you know how you get used to your naked reflection in your own mirror at home, and learn to reflexively present yourself to your best advantage whenever you're in front of it so that you're always at least content with the way you look?
well lemme tell ya, all those self-serving delusions go out the window when you look up and suddenly find yourself in a strange, new fluorescent-lighted bathroom whose corner-mounted mirrors give you a totally new and unwelcome perspective on your advancing middle age.
since i try not to delude myself about shit, and as hard as it is to do, i stand there under the glow of the merciless blue-white light, turn left and right in front of these hostile, alien mirrors and absorb the blow of this unexpected new reality as best i can.
holy shit, it's happened--it's over; i'm fuckin' old.
after a few minutes, he calls out, "what are you doing in there?" i snap out of it, drop my towel, walk out to join him. he pulls me into his arms and i ask him, incredulously, "you really wanna put your arms around me?"
he laughs and pulls me closer.
[for what it's worth, this particular incident happened almost ten years ago; only thing that's really changed since then is, i make it a point to not look at myself in strange mirrors anymore--you'd probably do well to do the same.]
6 comments:
I stopped worrying about age a long while ago when I realized that no matter what age you are, if you keep yourself in shape, your live vigorous and your mind open, there's always going to be somebody who finds you desirable.
So now, my current lifestyle has me in the best shape of my life, my friends compliment me on my "Sean Connery Beard" and although I've always appreciated older men--and still do--I find that younger guys will tumble to me. Surprisingly often.
I'm sick of the age thing. Gay men have to drop the "I'm turning 30, will become an instant troll, washed up sexually, alone and miserable." The way my life's set up now, I have sex with men in their 70s, men in their 20s and every age in between. It's all good, in fact, it's pretty fantastic. Mike, I'm going to bet you're a pretty hot guy--and certainly that young man in the next room who wanted you with him thought so. Let's all just relax and life will flow along very nicely.
I'm not old yet, but there are certain mirrors and lighting I do hate or try to avoid. EEK!
will: truth be told, i'm pretty bulletproof when it comes to the whole age thing--like you, i don't dwell on it and it hasn't slowed me down--but every once in awhile life hands you one of those unguarded moments, and this was one of mine.
wat: something tells me you're gonna age well ;)
Well, there are no fluorescent lights in cars. A topic I do not believe you have discussed.
cars? why, i'm sure i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.
Fluorescent lights or not, i'm pretty sure you'll always get my dick rock hard whenever you remove an article of clothing in front of me..
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