Kissy Kissy

Okay, I admit it, I have been neglecting you. It was just such a busy weekend that I couldn't find the time to sticky-tape the time machine back together. It's all fixed now though so here, documented at the source, is the first recorded record of me getting any action.

Thaton, Thailand, 1998
13 December 2007
Well, still in Perth and it is such a wild time. Kate and I and some others went to Rosie O’Gradys and DCs the last night and it was pretty cool but there was far less talent than I expected at the nightclub, maybe it was the wrong night to go. At least the music was decent, unlike the crap they played at Connections. It was good to go out though and liven up the stay in Perth a little. For some reason I am thinking that Thailand is going to have a lot of action in it, I don’t know why this idea comes into my mind when I compare Perth and Thailand, maybe because in Perth there is no real drive to meet people and to get out and about whereas in Thailand there will be a great deal of time doing only that, hopefully.

Spoke to the guy Kate is moving to Melbourne with, I hate to say it but I can’t help but think that we won’t ever really get along. He seems nice enough but he is just a little patronising and full of himself for my liking and that always pisses me off, but it is too late at night to be bitching so I am going to bed.

21 January 1998
Well it is the new year and I am back from Thailand. I cannot be fucked recounting the details of the entire trip here because I have been doing that for everyone I have talked to since I have come back and it gets a bit repetitive after a while. Needless to say there wasn’t any of the action that I was expecting over there purely because if there was any chance of action in any given place then we shipped out for some national park the next day. Actually it wasn’t that bad but the girls that I was travelling with certainly wanted a different holiday to what I was after and although there were some tense moments in the end it all worked out pretty well in the end, still I wouldn’t rush out to backpack around the country with any of them ever again that’s for sure.

The trip has got me worried about travelling at the end of this year by myself purely because it is so dull doing things by yourself especially eating for some reason. Maybe because it is always such a social affair, but eating seems to be so uncomfortable when you are sitting alone at a table. Matthew Dunn has a fantastic body. Ironically though it is when you are sitting alone that you meet people which in a way is some sort of light at the end of the tunnel since it shows that maybe if you are travelling alone that you do meet people. But that is all a few years off so I will wax lyrical about that at some later stage no doubt.

River Raft, Thailand, 1998
25 January 1998
I have never been an expert card player and so I never actively seek out a game to introduce myself to. So I suppose it was inevitable that I should have played all my cards wrong on Friday night. What a mess.

Where to begin? Well, after Thailand I was sort of hanging to go out and get smashed and to just plain shake my booty so I called Donald in the hope that he would want to get together somewhere. Luckily he did and we ended up in the Dive Bar with a few others and went about the serious business of getting deliciously intoxicated. On that front things were going perfectly well then Donald returned after a conversation with one of his most recent ex’s mates. So over this guy comes and introduces himself or Donald introduces him- his name is Brad and he is a most unassuming guy with his understated good looks and unprissy attitude (perhaps the vodka glasses were working well) and everyone gets to talking while we finish our drinks in anticipation of going over to the club. And finally each of us in our own private drunken stupor stumble our way over to the club to continue our revelries. Then all the ‘trouble’ starts, I say trouble and yet it was the best trouble that I have ever had to do with before. We had only been in the club for about half and hour and I was just getting through the second of my four requisite drinks before I went out and danced with Jay when Donald comes over and shouts in my ear that Brad has quite a thing for me.

I keep getting interrupted while I am writing this by the tennis on the television because the guy who is taking on Sampras is Hisham Arazi from Morocco who is absolutely stunning and is taking the game right up to Sampras. This guy keeps on wiping his brow on his shirt revealing the most amazing stomach, not too built but with just a hint of definition, I am watching in awe at his game but I think what I really want to see is Arazi taking his shirt off. He is so alluringly exotic...

Anyway eventually Brad and I get to talking and within no time I am having to explain that I am staying with my parents and that I won’t be staying with him. Why? It was just instinct I guess. I hadn’t gone out seeking a place to stay and so I didn’t feel I was losing anything by telling this guy to wait. Then it was time to dance, which is a story in itself. I now know how totally simple it will be to find meaningless sex if I ever want it for there are some incredibly desperate guys out there, within minutes of getting on the dance floor I was asked if I was at the Court the other night, and let’s face it there aren’t too many guys who wouldn’t have been.

So I leave the dance floor after about five songs and grab a water and sit down to have a little rest. Well over comes Brad to continue with his “Won’t you come and stay with me tonight” routine and here I am having just drunk four vodkas in about forty minutes and then danced all the alcohol into my system and literally before I realise what is happening we are kissing and my tongue is halfway down his throat. Reality seemed to cease and my whole existence consisted of two mouths, sets of teeth, tongues and bristles. And dear Brad is whispering in my ear that he loves me, hardly truthful but most endearing of him and he has his hand nestled in my crutch rubbing. And although I am constantly pulling his ear close to my mouth and shouting “I’m sorry but it is not going to happen, not tonight, you’ll have to wait.” I am still rubbing him and not stopping him from sending his hand up under my shirt to massage my nipple of fingering the hair below my naval. Soon he is kissing my neck and I glance over and see Donald looking upset and reality smashes me in the jaw and I pull away.

Another attempt to pull Brad onto the dance floor fails and I move over to impotently reassure Donald that it wasn’t going to happen and to pull him onto the dance floor instead. In the ensuing mess which is the conversation between us the music ate most of the details and my ears were too drunk to understand the rest. I think I recall that Donald assured me that it was ok to go for it and that he didn’t care and that the only reason that Brad was interested was probably that I was leaving so soon and the stunned amazement or disbelief or amusement when I stated that if he wanted me that he could wait. And yet when I left the dance floor he was gone and all I was left with was a note he had given Donald to pass on to me with his number on it.

I left the club soon after and jerked off when I got home. All that night and the next day I though of what would happen that night when I rang him up and invited him out to the movies and all the rest. For some reason I bet that he would jump at the chance and yet when I showed my hand he was most non committal. I suppose I hadn’t factored in the power of alcohol. I was upset and pissed off both with him and myself, mostly myself. Yet I don’t regret not doing it on Friday night since I can hardly remember what I did do.

Previous diary entries:
I Wanna Play
Confessions of an Amateur Melodramatist
Before I Sleep a.k.a. Diary Drowsiness
Goodbye 1996!!!
Back To The Bush
How Time Flies
End Of An Era

Tags: diary, coming out, gay