Monday, November 21, 2005
What's With Those Italian Stallions?(Pt. 1)
Did D and I start out intending to be polyamorous? Actually, this word was not in our vocabulary back around 1990. I am not sure the word had even made its way into polite conversation at that distant point in time. But yes, we rather loosely inched our way forward into togetherness with the vague idea that we could/would continue to see other people.
I was not at all sure I wanted a permanent relationship. I had to think about that for quite a while. D was my first long-term partner, male or female, and for a while I resisted his efforts. I just couldn't imagine I was in a relationship. With a GUY for Christ's sake. That took a lot of getting used to. Maybe a woman would have provoked the same response.
He was careful to leave me my independent ways, but it was clear he wanted to be with me, in every sense of the word.
Part of my resistance was to take up with other males. That was how I met G, a twenty-something Italian boy who worked at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.
D and I met him originally as a couple. G felt he was bisexual, and he decided he wanted to explore with a couple. We met at a coffee place in Marina del Rey for the first time.
G was rather handsome, with a strong, muscular build and a pleasant manner. He had the body of a dockworker, but he fancied himself an aesthete. G liked poetry and he wore black.
D was uncertain how bi the guy really was, so he confronted him right away. Meaning D took G back to my place, I forget where I was headed that day. But this was fine with me. D wanted to check him out ahead of time.
What transpired between them was that D came on quite strong to G, as a way of testing him. G was half-way there. They had oral sex, but anal sex was not something G was quite ready for. So D left feeling disappointed.
"The guy's just a bi-oral type," D tells me. We decided he would probably not be good couple material. Too bad, because G apparently had one of the biggest dicks D had ever seen.
He should not have told me this. Being the size queen that I can be at times, I was immediately curious.
So a few weeks later, unknown to D, I called up G at work. He was thrilled. We arranged a date. I think that time I fixed dinner, then we roamed around the Santa Monica Pier that evening before heading back to my place.
G was indeed the largest guy I had ever seen. What was even better was that he liked women a lot, and he was a really good lover. G was probably mid to late 20s. Any guy who is that good in the sack when he's that young is a guy who has been lovingly brought along by (probably) older women. He especially loved being with older women. At the time, I was nearly twenty years older than he. He was five years younger than my partner D.
Unbeknownst to me then, G was looking for a wife. After he and I parted company, he ended up marrying a co-worker at the museum, a woman who was even older than I was. She had been married before, her children were grown and gone. She had always wanted to be with a younger man. The last I heard, the marriage was going along swimmingly.
TO BE CONTINUED
I was not at all sure I wanted a permanent relationship. I had to think about that for quite a while. D was my first long-term partner, male or female, and for a while I resisted his efforts. I just couldn't imagine I was in a relationship. With a GUY for Christ's sake. That took a lot of getting used to. Maybe a woman would have provoked the same response.
He was careful to leave me my independent ways, but it was clear he wanted to be with me, in every sense of the word.
Part of my resistance was to take up with other males. That was how I met G, a twenty-something Italian boy who worked at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.
D and I met him originally as a couple. G felt he was bisexual, and he decided he wanted to explore with a couple. We met at a coffee place in Marina del Rey for the first time.
G was rather handsome, with a strong, muscular build and a pleasant manner. He had the body of a dockworker, but he fancied himself an aesthete. G liked poetry and he wore black.
D was uncertain how bi the guy really was, so he confronted him right away. Meaning D took G back to my place, I forget where I was headed that day. But this was fine with me. D wanted to check him out ahead of time.
What transpired between them was that D came on quite strong to G, as a way of testing him. G was half-way there. They had oral sex, but anal sex was not something G was quite ready for. So D left feeling disappointed.
"The guy's just a bi-oral type," D tells me. We decided he would probably not be good couple material. Too bad, because G apparently had one of the biggest dicks D had ever seen.
He should not have told me this. Being the size queen that I can be at times, I was immediately curious.
So a few weeks later, unknown to D, I called up G at work. He was thrilled. We arranged a date. I think that time I fixed dinner, then we roamed around the Santa Monica Pier that evening before heading back to my place.
G was indeed the largest guy I had ever seen. What was even better was that he liked women a lot, and he was a really good lover. G was probably mid to late 20s. Any guy who is that good in the sack when he's that young is a guy who has been lovingly brought along by (probably) older women. He especially loved being with older women. At the time, I was nearly twenty years older than he. He was five years younger than my partner D.
Unbeknownst to me then, G was looking for a wife. After he and I parted company, he ended up marrying a co-worker at the museum, a woman who was even older than I was. She had been married before, her children were grown and gone. She had always wanted to be with a younger man. The last I heard, the marriage was going along swimmingly.
TO BE CONTINUED
