Archive for February, 2012

17th February
2012
written by Dame Suzy

One night I meet two young gay friends –22-years-old but could pass for younger. Tim compliments me on my panda purse, and Daniel spends the rest of the night insisting on paying for round after round of drinks.

A couple of weeks later, Daniel asks if I want to go out again, and as I’d also like to go out with my man – I’ll call him Mike – I invite him. I introduce him as “my best friend I sometimes hook up with.” Daniel is polite and friendly from the beginning, but Tim looks like he resents Mike’s being there and ignores him.

Fast forward to later in the evening, and Mike has a group of five or six of these gay boys hanging on his every word. Mike is after all well-traveled, multi-lingual, and can have a swagger when he wants. He also – thanks in large part to me – dresses well and also has – no thanks to me – a noteworthy bubble butt.

When Mike later takes a detour solo to his favorite bar with his favorite bartendress, I get to hear the guys dish on Mike. Tim – the one who seemed to resent Mike – tells me using a lot of mmms how he’d like to do all sorts of things to him. They’re taken by Mike and they’d like to see more of him.

Though Mike likes the attention, he doesn’t feel the need to repeat it. To this day, they have no idea he’s “my man.” And that’s how it should be. He’s not my property, and he can be someone’s fantasy, no problem.

15th February
2012
written by Dame Suzy

As you type, you realize you don’t mean it.

Which is what happened when a lover (and guy I’m still in love with) IM’ed me out of the blue, two years after I’d last felt his firm embrace and we’d had several rounds of delicious, emotional (for me) sex.

He typed, “How are you?” which gave me a panic attack that released a flood of emotions, and after some chit chat…

Me: I texted you last time I was in Barcelona.
Sergio: I know. My girlfriend saw it too and you got me into a ton of trouble.
Me: But all I said was if you wanted, I would like to see you. You could even have brought her.

Even as I typed those words I was thinking, “Um, no, I don’t actually mean that.” But then he replied:

Sergio: That would be best.

So I was kind of stuck. So then I wrote:

Me: I could even bring my Italian.
Sergio: Sounds good.

Of course, my Italian had never been mine in the carnal sense and only came to Barcelona to visit his brother, but what can I say; I was trying to be nonchalant.

Two months later, I’m in Barcelona, hanging out with some girls I met last time, and since they’re only 21/22, that’s the age of most of the meat that circles us too. And I’ve had a couple of drinks in me, and it‘s my last night in Barcelona, so I call him.

Sergio and his girl show up right before we enter a club that the girls like and coincidentally the only club in the city where I’ve actually slept with a bouncer, and of course, the bouncer’s there and we share some flirtateous words and touches before he lets me and the girls in. Sergio and his girlfriend have to pay. As expected, Sergio’s girlfriend is kind of ugly, with a big forehead, no lips, and blah hair. I didn’t say the guy had taste.

I am cordial to the girlfriend, but I don’t go into super-friendly mode which is what I instinctively would have done to defuse the weird situation. She is in defensive mode, her arm wrapped tightly around his, and she gives me the up-down grrr look and constantly gauges Sergio’s reaction which is annoyingly placid. And he’s refrained from giving me the classic cheek-kiss greeting which I realize I miss from him terribly.

Some time passes and nature calls. The girlfriend tells us girls that she needs to go to the bathroom, anyone want to go with her? I don’t say anything which unnerves her, and my friend drags her away with a smirk.

As soon as the girlfriend is out of sight, I notice Sergio’s gaze instantly changes and he looks me deeply in the eyes.
Sergio: I’m really happy to see you. You look fantastic.

And I can imagine his lips on my neck and my pussy throbs.

He gives me my cheek greeting and I’m nervous like a school girl.

Him: It’s too loud in here. You want to go outside to talk?

I nod vaguely and he takes me by the hand, past the somewhat jealous bouncer to the outside. And he doesn’t stop. We keep going until we feel the breeze caused by the waves slowly lapping at the sand.

And he pulls me toward him and his curvy lips envelop mine. And we kiss deep and hard, and I bring his hand down to my ass and reach my pelvis toward his, to feel him against me once again.

Sergio: I want to take you right here.

ENDING A

And I unsnap his pants in reply, but he jerks my hand away and says:
Sergio: No, I want to but I can’t.

And my breath catches in my throat and my pussy growls in annoyance. And I can’t stop myself. I’ve never said the words out loud to him, but I do now.

Me: But I want/love you.
Sergio: I know.

And he pulls away which is more devastating than the years apart have been.

And I find myself running back toward the big arms of my bouncer, who has never lied to me, never broken my heart, never hurt me, and when Sergio catches up, the 6-foot-5 man built like a truck tells Sergio he should go.

And at that moment, the girlfriend who’s been frantically looking for her man comes out, sees us three, doesn’t know what happened but knows she’s mad about it, gives me a dangerous look to which I give a dangerous look back, and goes to Sergio, who has already started to go at a quick pace and doesn’t slow down; she has to hurry to catch up.

And though it should be the last time I set eyes on Sergio, somehow I know he’ll break my heart again.

ENDING B

And I unsnap his pants in reply and feel his thick hardness directly and its warmth and feel bring back pleasant memories. He stops my hand.

Sergio: Not here.
Me: I can’t wait. Please do me, now! Please, please…

And I turn around and press myself against his cock and without hesitation he enters my soaking wet vagina. My whole body trembles; it has wanted this for so long. I utter a sharp moan as he manages to control his thrust to make it best for both of us. And it feels so right, like this is the way things should be, that we were meant to fuck, that we were made to fuck each other. And my first orgasms come within a minute or two, and others follow in quick succession, and he kisses the back of my neck and reaches in my dress to grab my breast and tweak my nipple.

Sergio: Let’s go.

And we go back to my apartment to avoid getting maimed or murdered by his irate ugly chick, and we spend the night making love, sleeping, fucking, sleeping, caressing, sleeping, making love, sleeping, and eeking out one more round.

And I feel like this is as close to bliss as one can get. And for the moment, I forget that it will disappear as quickly as it started and I will shed yet more tears for a man who will never understand why I love him and will never feel the same.

12th February
2012
written by Dame Suzy

I was so crushed when I heard of Whitney Houston’s death on the eve of the Grammy’s.

No one wanted her to have the troubles she did and witness the destruction of that powerful voice that helped people through many a heartbreak.

Goodbye, Whitney. You’ll be missed.

7th February
2012
written by Dame Suzy

One of my Italian friends had posted a status update that it was snowing in Milan. I thought it would be one of those that melts quickly, but it’s holding strong.

As a result, there are fantastic photos of snowy scenes, including on the island of Mallorca, Spain, at Hello! Magazine.