I made it to Marvin’s on Sunday afternoon. I had just had brunch with friends and was feeling particularly grotty from a very strange night before.
We chatted away for a bit which, was nice. I told him about the previous night and he listened. It was as if I was talking to a…..friend. Once I had made the decision I was going to be “nice” to Marvin things had changed for me. I felt like hanging out, mucking around. (Even if it was in his weird “man-room.” My goodness, he was such a bachelor. For a person with such good sartorial tastes Marvin’s place was conspicuously lacking in terms of interior consideration.) I was allowing myself to like him as another person in the world. Plus, there was another thing: he really did seem to accept me for who I was or, am. There would be no guilt trips, no tantrums, no sulking and, well the jury was out still on this one, but hopefully no manipulation.
We had great sex. The sex was getting even better if that were possible. I guess we were getting to know each other.
He liked to ask how it was with other men. I don’t know why but I could only say things like “he’s ok” or “pretty good.” But in fact, they were all different. The only thing that any of these men had in common was that they liked sex. Loved it even and really put their back into it. In this way they were like me. It was unbearable when I was with a man who wouldn’t let go because it always means I can’t and for me, then why bother? Marvin had always been good technically but it was easy to issue a cold goodbye and get on with my day without giving the experience a second thought. This day, it came closer to how it was with the Dominican. I felt a pang of genuine desire. Or maybe, I just enjoyed him more now that I liked him. He was like a lion toying with a chihuahua, tossing me to and fro, playing with my body; liberal with his pinches, bites and slaps. He came on my face. Twice. He played with my ass, bossed me around, went down on me, fucked my feet even. Marvin did what he wanted with me and I completely and utterly trusted him. Actual surrender which, was the most liberating feeling.
We laughed a lot that day. He went into his quirky, childish goofy mode for a little while which I had only seen once before. I knew it meant he was happy. Nice! We were enjoying each other’s company. This was all new territory for me and as long as I stayed in the moment I could indulge it. I really had to stop myself from wondering when the guillotine was going to fall on my neck.
Walking to the subway afterward the weather was glorious. I had a gazillion texts from Hank and Tiger. I hadn’t flipped them off rotation for Marvin, I just didn’t have time because I had been busy with other things. After all, I could barely fit Marvin in. Tiger was adamant: “You should have fucked me! Why is he so good?” Hank was more pragmatic: “Fit me in for a top-up. You won’t regret it.”
Instead I stopped for a margarita on the way home and met a lovely Australian musician from Melbourne, this was more like it.
I had errands to run though so I peeled myself away and pootled home completely satisfied with the day. A great day to, well, to use an Australian saying; get fucked.