This week marks my last week here in Maine, and by this time next week I will hopefully be fully moved in to my new Boston apartment. As I have said before, due to packing, moving, unpacking, waiting for the cable company to come, and any other delay I might have in being fully settled in my new place, posting will be erratic and may stop for a while. I'll try to keep you informed about when that will happen, but the best way to find out about my goings-on is to follow me on Twitter and Facebook.
Today I'm going to talk about a guy some of my older readers may remember named Chris. For those of you who haven't reached way back to my earlier posts in May, he features heavily in two of them. One is the post where he is the last man I have sex with before leaving Ohio and the other is about the first time we fucked and I took his cherry. Aside from my incredible second time getting fucked by Rob Steed of A Breeder's Journal fame, Chris was the only man I was having sex with towards the end of my school year. It wasn't because we were exclusive, but more because I was moving on and away. Plus I was beginning to get sick with what I would eventually learn was Mono.
I have mentioned in a few other posts that I was late in realizing my growing feelings for Chris. Not that it would have mattered any. He was leaving for a summer internship and I was heading to Maine and then Colorado and finally Boston. I whole summer's worth of stuff (most of which is cataloged here) was between him and me. So even if I had realized my strong feelings, feelings which I believe he shared, there still would have been no easy way to act on them. But I have been clear with myself from the moment I realized it: I love Chris. Not in the school-boy crush way, but in the way that let's me know I will always be there for him and always care for him.
I've also been talking to him on and off this summer. We text back and forth a lot and keep up-to-date on what we're both doing. He and I both had a similar dry spell earlier this summer. And while I've been doing my very best to keep myself (and by extension, you all) entertained with some fun sexual encounters, he has been working on a few of his own. Sadly, his internship hours keep him from performing as often as he would like, he has been having a few good times of his own.
Like the wealthy man in his early fifties who took him shopping and bought him some sexy underwear before they went back to his place. This man has a koi pond large enough to swim in, surrounded by hedges tall enough to block the skinny dipping from nosy neighbors. They then worked their way back into his room where he fucked Chris long and gently (not nearly as rough as I got, which wasn't even that rough by my standards). After they were done fucking, they lay together in his bed, and had to pretend to be asleep when the man's son came home. But that didn't stop them from sneaking in a second, muffled fuck that night and another in the morning.
I've been telling Chris about all of my adventures too. I try to send him pictures when I can, but it seems like I'm never sending him enough to keep his horny little self satisfied. I can see why I liked him so much. We've both helped each other make it through some rough patches and kept each other horny. We talk about the times we used to fuck around, and I always get a huge smile when he texts something like, "I miss having your hairy chest above me and your cock inside of me." Some of my stories have been all that comforts him in his horniness. And there have been days where his text or call has been exactly what I needed.
When that happens, when he really makes my day with his contacting me, I sometimes think back to how easy it was when all I had to do was walk a short distance to his room and fuck him silly. How comfortable I felt just laying my head on his chest to watch TV while we cuddled after sex. How easy it was to just talk to him. I think back to all of that and I wonder if I missed something. Did I miss out on what could have been a great relationship? If just his text can make me happy, should I have stayed with him, been his boyfriend, and really let him make me happy? Sometimes these thoughts just feel, well, sad.
I think this is normal. Or maybe I just hope it is. Both Chris and I started seeing each other knowing full well that there was no chance of us continuing past the end of the school year. We spent a lot of time together talking or fucking, and used up the time we had together well. I have no regrets at all about what he and I did, and I am so much happier having spent my last days at school with him. And yet, I can't help but wonder what would have happened to us if I had stayed in Ohio, or at least the Mid West. We'd be closer, and would probably have gotten to spend some time together this summer. Possibly have developed a relationship. I'll never know what might have been, and I don't usually focus on what-ifs.
Of course, this entire post has been a giant what-if. I have a reason for focusing my thoughts on this topic. As I get ready for another move, I find myself thinking again about the men I've met this summer in Maine and how I am not likely to see many of them ever again. I haven't had anyone strike me nearly as much as I was struck by Chris (or Rob), but a few were certainly ones I wouldn't mind elevating to "regular" status. And all these thoughts about leaving people behind have reminded me of one of my favorite things about any relationship: You never really know how strong they really are. The short time I've had this summer has made me really work to seek out great experiences and to truly treasure the moments I've had with the lovers I've met here. Because of this I've made some great friends and hopefully some lovers who will want to get together when I come up to Maine for visits.
And that is the lesson in my story with Chris. If you don't treasure every moment with the people you are with and really seek enjoyable sex, then how will you ever know when you've made a relationship? Don't get me wrong, some people (even some of you) are probably not looking for a relationship. I've read sex blogs by guys who are simply getting off. That's fine. I have that kind of sex too. But what I've really enjoyed about writing in this blog, and what I have really enjoyed sharing with you all, is the more complex side to casual sex. It isn't about a series of meaningless encounters for me. In fact, what I'm truly looking for is a series of completely meaningful encounters. I would love nothing more than to go to Boston and eventually cultivate a group of guys and girls to regularly have sex with, people who I have a lot in common with and who are not just a trick to me. I would likely still have sex with others as well, but what I really want is to have sex with people I care about. I don't want a monogamous relationship, and even if I did want one, I am not very good at functioning in monogamy. It wouldn't work. What would make me the most happy, at least at this point in my life, is a good set of lovers to care for and sleep with.
So while I'm moving to Boston, keep me in your thoughts and wish me luck in getting what I want. I've talked to Chris a bit about this, about how I would love a series of hot guys, and his response was, "I hope you get them! And take pictures. You know I live my life through my gay mentor. :)" That is enough to convince me that I'm going the right way. And though I'll miss those I'm leaving behind, I'm happy to know that I'm going to meet so many more people in Boston. I like making friends and I love meeting new people. I can't wait.