Ah!
what a week!
wednesday to wednesday..
i had a slow morning in cocoa beach
with conversations about the future
cleansing…
eggs…
oils…
shells
in a spacious way…
we made our way to the Greyhound station in Melbourne
which had moved to the airport
and was about an hour late
down the coast…
i was quite surprised by all the storms
thought it was sunny and hot in Melbourne
it was only moments down the 95
that the sky was grey and thick and spitting on us…
there was a part of me that wondered about coming to florida in late june…
but i figured all those sagely men of the Celebration of Friends should have known what they were doing…
indeed!
storm season: it’s what makes it a tropical climate… to rain in the summer.
i took a taxi from the bus station to the hotel
and arrived exactly the same time as Jim and Gene..
many handsome men by the front door
but i walked right by them
to be greeted by Jim
waiting by the front door
on the inside
waiting for Gene.
we checked in
and i was impressed by Embassy Suites…
i’d not been in one of these since i was… probably… 14
we used to have “rich” relatives visit us
( i later understood it was part of the middle-class ideal to appear “rich” — none of us actually were )
(barbie-tale-ideals)
they would stay at the E.S. in Indianapolis
and we would spend as much time there as we could: it seemed so exotic!
this surpassed my childhood memories:
it was like a jungle in th ecentre
huge ceiling
up 12 floors
the couryard was a maze of bridges and paths through a jungle
waterfalls and rivers
cute
commenced with cuddling
hugging Jim and hearing is stories was great
lots of laying in bed and talking…
i gave him a massage too..
the days passed fluidly…
i wasn’t feeling overly sexual
it was mostly about watching and wondering
i felt like a child
also like an exotic fruit
many people stared at me
wondered…
i had to make introductions mostly
but them men mostly responded very favourably when i did…
some big beautiful beards…
many men refering to themselves as “santa clause”
quite a few of them played Him in the malls of their homes…
Livonia Michigan!
yes!
(laughs)
the next morning i went to the Vendor Mall
there was a guy from the upper peninsula of michigan
who had moved to Australia 40 years ago
and now delights in fucking married men
and filming it!
i had found some of his video’s when i was downloading porn a few months ago
and when i went to his website
i decided to buy his two DVDs
but then noticed he’d be coming to the Celebration
so wrote him to ask if he’d be selling his wares there
he said Yes
so i waited to buy them in person..
he was a very friendly fellow
so handsome
we have the same taste in men, though
so i bought his discs so i could enjoy seeing him in his sexual pleasure
beauty
heat
he gave me a free disc as thanks
Sweet!
Gene had been talking with me about playing with older guys
and i told him the story of the herbal erection tea i’d made for Leo
He Wanted Some!
so we all went out to Whole Foods to buy
Yerba Mate
Damiana
and Oatstraw
— and i showed him how to make it in the coffee maker
then Jim took me to haulover beach
layed naked from about 3:30 to 6:30
and went home with a big sexy italian {Sagittarius} guy who i’d talked with on line
but now his beard was died in a charcoal fu-man-chu against his natural grey
it looked silly
but
admittedly
hot
he took me home and made me Putanesca
i tried, but failed, to make garlic mayonaise as i was taught in Brazil
we ate
cuddled
slept
it felt really nice
i kept feeling bursts of pleasure which made me want to say
“i love you”
but i’m hesitant down here..
he dropped me off at the beach in the morning around 9
on his way to work at the Salon
(hmmmm, hairdresser)
and a guy i’d talked with last year said he’d come meet me on the beach
so we hung out together
he’s from long island originally
but used to summer here
at the age of 15
he started an affair with a married woman aged around 40
and made a huge scandal
she left her husband (a rich doctor)
and married him
then divorced him
so she could still get her alimony benefits
though she still lives with him.
a performer, piano player
for a while they toured together: he sining.
he’s lived here all these years
(he’s only in his mid 30s now…)
and hardly ever comes to the ocean
so we swam
and talked
i practiced my skills at underwater blow jobs
but it’s difficult in the ocean
— all those waves jostling us about
and the salt water!
many guys from the Celebration were there
and this guy i’d seen around the hotel
seen in photos from last year
and seemed to recognize was there
he bumped into me in the water while i was playing around with my other friend
and grabbed my dick with an exagerated cuban surprise… big eyes
— we got eachother going…
ahhhhh
Haulover Beach…
the day was lovely
my italian friend returned to pick me up around 12:30
and i felt nice and cooked
a few hours later
the burn set in
which i was surprised by
but i guess it’s the solstice sun…
ouch!
he took me back to the Hotel
and i decided to take things easy
did a massage any way
then hung out with people
after the massage
i walked back to the hotel
and stopped by a plaza that had the artworks of my italian friend in a Framing shop
and noticed an eye-glass shop that had frames i really liked…
so i made an appointment for the next morning…
back at the hotel
Gene told me about a sex party happening upstairs
a guy i knew from NYC was hosting it ( a guy introduced to me by a friend from SF)
— after the massage
i sat on the toilet with my cell phone
playing Solitaire…
i’ve had a lot of trouble finishing the game lately
keep having to fold…
— everything to me can be an oracle
and in my mind
i strongly felt a voice
“fucking is not good for you right now: STOP. don’t get fucked and don’t fuck other people”
i think it’s coming up as very important
i have to stop by the time Saturn moves into Leo
which is July 17th
this is a challenge for me
but i agreed to it
as i did
the deck all made sense
and i beat the game of solitaire for the first time in days.
OK.
clear message.
still
at that sex party that night
i fucked a guy who i found so CUTE
a big polar bear of 73 or so from near Buffalo, NY
and got fucked by the hot cuban guy i’d met at the beach
(who actually lives in NYC)
we was a spectacle
the whole party stopped and watched
(so i was told by other people… i was too busy to notice)
[ “will i complete the mystery of my flesh?” ]
the next day
i walked back over to the plaza
and went to my eye appointment rather early in the morning…
i’d been having irritation in my eyes since i had arrived in Orlando
and at this point
the left one was completely red and swollen
and i was a bit worried:
was this pink-eye?
i was having some crusties…
i’d seen an add on TV while i was staying in Cocoa about a pill you can take to fight “dry-eye” by making your eyes tear more…
in the list of side affects i heard them say “we don’t know how this can affect people with Herpes in the eye”
and i remember being shocked by that: i didn’t even know that could happen!
was what was happening to my eye an hypochondriac response to this worry?
the doctor took a look at it and told me we couldn’t do the refraction that day
my eye was too swollen
and it looked Viral…
so he gave me some anti-inflamitory drops
and a perscription for anti-biotic drops
i had to go pick up from the CVS
i felt depressed all of a sudden
sad and annoyed
angry at Florida for doing this to me
that passed pretty quickly when i got a great Açai smoothie for really cheep right next to the CVS
and watched the hunky mexicans doing welding nearby…
then i sauntered back to the Hotel
my eyes already feeling better from the drops…
i walked out to the pool area
and ran into this guy i’d talked with on line about a year ago
who’d driven down from the other shore of FL
BIG italian {virgo}
bigger by 50 pounds than the other big italian
(and there was another Big italian i was flirting with by the pool that Gene had suggested i chase… he had also died his grey beard with a fu-man-chu… who knew?)
this guy just got back from NYC
where he’d hung out at the Dugout and played the Bear-Super-Star
as he’d just been in American Grizzly magazine as a cover star
… he gave me his magazine
and i knew every guy in it!
i felt like a bear whore…
and spent the next 24 hours with him
he was very hot
and i got the “i love you” feelings with him as well
but, again, didn’t vocalize it.
he was very italian
in that controlling arrogant kind of way
plus
he made harsh judgments of everyone
— his virgo was a bit exacerbating
when i came back from his hotel to the host hotel
Gene saw his magazine that i had left in the room and immediately hit me up
“where is that guy? he’s SO HOT!”
yeah
we’d done some photo shoots
had a good time..
but i felt a bit outside of it…
i’ve been noticing lately
that when i’m getting fucked
i have MORE energy than usual
and when the cock comes out
its a noticeable change in ecstasy
i wondered if that’s like getting addicted to it?
it worries me…
i gotta stop and strengthen my root chakra
(engaging mulabanda right now…)
the last day of the event
i decided to just spend with him
cuddling and talking
coming to grounding
they both left the hotel at 7am on monday morning
and i went up and knocked on the door of one of the many men that i would have liked to have played with…
but hadn’t got around to.
he had his part-time-boy-friend sleeping in bed
so he said he’d meet me down at my room
what a beautiful good-bye romp!
then my ride arrived:
a guy who had written me through the massage web site
and separately…
he was very excited to meet me
saying he’d read much of my journal
— we had a lot to talk about on the hour+ drive out to Shark Valley Everglades preserve…
we got there about 10am
and were ambushed by mosquitos!
i was shocked!
so much so
that i acquiesced to using bug spray
which i haven’t done in years!
then we began our walk…
it was very reminiscent of the south african Veld…
long views that went on forever…
the bugs kept us moving
but we stopped many times to enjoy the fish and flowers
the beautiful birds…
and the Gators!
a bunch of babies…
protected by their 7 foot mother…
(grin)
a 6 foot guy playing in the shallow water about five feet away from me
nuzzling the ground
rubbing his nose
like a playful dog…
.. with huge razor sharp claws and teeth..
the loop through the park was 15 miles
and he said he had walked it before
… but not this time of years
the bugs and the heat made it very difficult
not to mention
about 5 miles in
i got huge blisters on my heels from my sandals…
i took them off and walked barefoot on the grassy shoulder of the path…
the observation tower at 6.5 was beautiful.
a cool breeze
no bugs
we both decided we’d catch the tram back instead of walking the rest of the way:
it was another 8 miles
and being 1 o’clock
it was hot [ashell]
we sat and talked
the phone rang!
— when i returned from Brazil into Miami last year
i had most intentions to hang out with this Cuban guy i’d talked with for a year or so
but when i arrived
i couldn’t get him on phone or email
he called the last day i was in town last year
appologizing
telling me his father had died
and he was very sorry.
Ah..
he calls me in the everglade
crying
flustered
tells me he has to miss our date that night:
his father has died…
i say
‘ didn’t your father die last year? ‘
and i had to bite my tongue not to be mean
which was true?
either of them?
grrrrr
whatever
i then got a call from another man
who i’d talked with on line since 1997
but had never met.
a few months ago i found him on the net again
and saw he had moved down to Lauderdale
so was excited to meet him on this trip
— we made a date for that night.
when the tram came
they told us we’d have to pay $13.50 to take it back
so we had them call the ranger
who’d pick us up for free
then we walked on
continuing the path
until he came and drove us back to the lot
we drove directly to the beach!
clouds come in
waves huge
we went swimming
— this guy was a native
and hadn’t been in the ocean for YEARS!
in the water
we met another native who spent a lot of time there
and really wanted to fuck me
— i just DOESN’T work in water!
we played though
all three of us
that guy was the only one who came…
TWICE!
i practiced my underwater BJ and felt like i figured out how to do it
he was happy!
while we, all three, held eachother in the huge waves
pellicans dove over us
— lots of fish in the water…
it was beautiful and memorable…
we stayed a little over an hour and he drove me home.
cooked me dinner
and we ate and talked…
it was difficult
trying to explain to him the “truth” about me
— i didn’t want to be mean or overly judgmental
but i tried to his explain that he didn’t have anything that attracted me
his life was very Spacious
and i wondered if it was his work?
a financial advisor…
always dealing with money
i often feel the fallacy of money is
you take your vital life energy an transmute it all into cash
what use is that?
— trying to explain that he didn’t create anything to share..
his house was white: walls, ceiling floor
dog
just not attracted
nothing wrong
not for me
how to say that without sounding judgmental?
even now..
rejection is painful
but
sometimes
necessary.
he drove me up to M’s house
Hairy Pop
a guy i’d talked with for Years…!
first time meeting…
His Leo energy sucked me in…
back from those days when i loved only Leos…
he took me in his arms and everything he said sounded like the truth…
“florida is filled with broken people”
he didn’t say that
but it’s what i heard
— he made jokes about that’s what brought him here..
all of a sudden i was obsessed with diabetes
and was explaining to him
and my italian friends
— it seems everyone has it!
Hydrogenated oils stop you from using insulin!
poison!
doctors…
what do say?
anyway
i had two days with him
of subtle conversation..
he said so much less than everyone else
said it slowly…
said it with so much meaning and truth…
— he’s from virginia…
spent his life as a Fire Fighter…
beautiful man
but what do we do ?
they asked me when i’d be back to florida
even the people on the beach
“we’ll be waiting for your return”
just a slight burn
settled into a nice tan
got me a new pair of glasses
after another massage client that was also a Leo
great sex.. like the good old days with…
a faery emails me that day about Robert!
“i had sex with him and he left a bunch of stuff in my tent!
i emailed him many times and he never responded… does he hate me?”
‘ no.. it’s just what he’s like … ‘
arrogance and non-compassion
we’re all there
cycling through…
so strange
this morning
the beautiful french/italian swiss boy going through bear411 and bitching about everyone he saw…
ah
the beautiful and young of Lauderdale
and the old and wise
who i came to visit
different beauties…
well
thanks
thanks Florida
for the sun and sea
the conversations
people’s lives…
i appreciate it.
see you later…
0 thoughts on “what the week was like in lauderdale”
dapa62
Florida
An Odyssey of epic proportion. Wish I was there. I would cuddle, swim,and be in the moment with the best of them.
Anonymous
The other side of a day in the Florida Everglades #3
For the first twelve of the 13.5 hours we spend together, it seemed that we talked without pause other than brief reflection. The last 45 minutes were mostly uncomfortable silence. It was somewhere during the 90 minute prior, at my home, that lead to that.
Nice would have been some wine, a sensual shower as we wash the ocean from each others body, and some quiet time resting and relaxing in bed as we reflected on the day. And maybe some not-so-quiet time in bed, not relaxing, but instead thrashing and squirming and… what was that ever so erotic thing I said I read that he wrote that sent chills through me..???? Hmm… let nature take its course.
And as you’ve already read. Not to be.
Instead: the implication that I would probably have dinner ready by the time he finishes his shower.
Whaaaaattttt??????
“Fragile” I am not.
“Pushover” No f*cking way!
“Forceful” Okay… uh…. no.
Instead: “ I thought you might like some company,” said before he left the kitchen.
Whatever his response. I did not analyze it other than to know he didn’t say “NO”
In the shower he didn’t say “NO”
But his body did.
Here’s what’s important through all of this: my body did say “NO” too.
It ached with disappointment.
This disappointed-ness caused a numbness. Maybe it was also the ache of the sunburn. The brief conversation after dinner was strange and confusing.
Him: would I be disappointed if sexually he did A rather than B?
Me: NO!! No. no…… uh I don’t know…???
At the time I didn’t know how to say that it wasn’t about A or B or even C.
It was more about something else, about whatever it was being MUTUAL.
The most painful thing, the knife, was hearing that he hoped to see me again…. as a “massage” client.
The day after was horrible. Was it withdrawal? Longing for what I had hoped for?
There was the questioning of me by me of how I could have handled it differently for a more desired outcome.
I viewed the journal, anxiously awaiting what he had to say. Wondering if I’d find cruel comments. If so, thinking how cleverly I’d have my dog pen a reply relating how angry the dog was, filled with regrets of not biting more than playfully as he upset master.
I awoke Wednesday morning knowing this had been one of those rare life experiences that I would need to commit to writing, such a wonderful therapy. But I worried that Tuesday was the best day to have written, filled with the emotions and passion that help craft the words in perfection.
Wednesday I was already healing and over those emotions. Afterall, being not the “fragile” person. No, no, no, uh… maybe.
Okay *fragile* deep down in my inner core, surrounded by a shell of armor, thick, tough and impenetrable. Not the “fragile” of his definition.
And my dog doesn’t have to pen anything for me. I’m okay with what he wrote.
I understand better. Monday night it was literally: “You have space.” In my numbness, I didn’t know what the heck that meant.
Three words are most important and all that were necessary: “just not attracted”
I can live with that and I can live with me.
I can live in my white house with white ceiling, white walls with nothing on them, white floor.
And white dog.
I cannot live with: “…trying to explain that he didn’t create anything to share…”
I could live with and understand: “… that he didn’t have anything I wanted to take…”
Speaking of taking, I did take away intimate and personal conversations. Hours and hours where he answered truthfully some questions I longed to ask, things not answered in the journal. Yes, and I did get to share and give to him, relating so rather personal feelings and events. At the end of the day, yes I got to bag my Monica Lewinski! Yeah, sort of an inside joke with him. Ask him, maybe he’ll explain.
Now he told me that he can just erase an anonymous comment post. He can do that to this. I hope he does not.
Anonymous
The other side of a day in the Florida Everglades #2
He was hell-bent on Haulover, asking a second time as we were red with sunburn and mosquito blood of the ones we killed as they drained our blood. Sure, I said I’d go, playing the part of the perfect host. You see, Native Floridians, such as I, don’t bake in the sun; those are the tourists and transplants. On top of that, I was never one for Haulover.
How strange that he asked me out of all context: did I know that since I was not registered and not on his “friends” list, that I couldn’t see all that he posts on the journal?
“Oh?” I say, leaving it at that and saying that I only posted an anonymous comment once and it was left unanswered. I wondered then if I was supposed to or should I ask to be placed on his friends list, which I assume is by invitation only.
I filed that information away for times like now and yesterday, wondering if something was posted privately. Ear to the screen I listened carefully for the faint laughter maybe I thought I’d hear from behind that private wall. Let me pause a moment here to check. No, can’t hear anything yet.
So to Haulover. Clothes off. And in the water. Right under the watchful eye of the lifeguard. Word has always been: “take it somewhere else; this here is for sunbathing only and no funny stuff.”
Did I want to see him naked?
Sure
Did I wanna play in the water?
No.
Somewhere else and more private?
Sure. Without hesitation.
Then along floated D (I remember his full name, but D will do for here. Just as he never mentions my name or even initial, I take as a sign of respect for privacy, thank you. Or maybe he forgot my name already!)
D’s not a Native Floridian, but what we call a Transplant, having lived here for 25+ years. The three of us talked until he left for the shoreline for a minute. When it was just D and I, the sound of the ocean must have began purring that song: “Reach out and touch someone.” D responded to the melody; I responded to D. Then I responded to the melody myself, reaching out to D. D by the way, is a much closer hit on his stats: several years and pounds on me with an attractive belly.
Inside I laughed when D asked me about my friend and if he would also want to get “friendly.” How unfair, I thought to myself, to respond and speak for him. So with a sly smile I responded “You’ll just have to try and find out for yourself.”
When he re-entered the water, I slowly drifted away from D and he. Giving them space, curious to see what’s up.
Jealousy, love, commitment, obligation? No, as I said before, I have no claim. I’m not “fragile” to use his term.
D found out first hand what he asked me. And you’ve already read his account. But to make a minor correction, D only came one. It was two tries. One cum. And he still needs to work on his timing, as he wasn’t quick enough. It was all in his beard rather than his mouth.
I was right there. Yes, I had drifted away some but he came after me, very excited by D. He took my hand and my arm. I never initiated anything, intentionally. D joined us before I had a chance to ask him not to cum; save it until later, in private.
There was touching by all of us, of all of us. Nice. Hugging. Nice. I just didn’t want him to cum there and be done with it. Maybe my few grabs at his arm to stop his self-jacking or just holding his stiff, sent him the message to hold off. Maybe not. But he did hold off. D didn’t, especially encouraged by him. D pointed out it was conditioner for his beard.
Anonymous
The other side of a day in the Florida Everglades #1
It all started a number of months ago. Simply perusing the massage ads and encountering someone so unlike all the others. A link to his site. More links to other of his sites. And his photos, oh so beautiful and revealing. Probably one of the most erotic things I’ve ever read: “…men to root down in or to feel their root in me….” When I found the link to his journal, I read and read and read until I was bleary eyed. Maybe it was like a science project, inspecting and dissecting. Maybe it was like trying to understand what was going through Monica Lewinski’s head and knowing what she was thinking.
What started as so intense ended with me feeling numb, hurt and aching. The after effects of a sunburn from 7 miles of walking may have played a part. But the sun may burn the skin while it takes something more to ache so deep inside.
What?
Love?
No way! I’m not the “fragile” person that has been described during what I’ll refer to as “The Day.”
So what happened in between where it started to where it ended?
First there was my “Hello from South Florida” email sent to the “personal” email. Nothing more that a lob across the net. Just testing the waters.
Two weeks later there was no answer. Disappointed, I felt: “Well that’s that. The end. Nothing that caught his eye.”
My outlook changed when I read in the journal about 500 unread emails; so it may not have been anything personal.
A month or two later – still unanswered – my travel plans had me going to Boston, where his “massage” ad was listed.
Fate would place him in Florida when I was in Boston. South Florida in particular, my neighborhood to be exact. And I would be back before he left, so he said we could schedule a “massage” during his visit.
Later, separately and unrelated came the reply to the “personal” email of so many months before. Just a slight hint a flirtatiousness in response to my “stats” that placed me about 10 years younger and several pounds lighter than his published tastes. But nevertheless… a slight interest. Enough to evoke several rounds of telephone tag.
The moment of truth came when I was pressed to clarify confusion as to whether I’m the “personal” emailer or a “massage” client with the same name. In a flash of a second I knew I could deny the “massage” communications and go undetected as he’s overwhelmed with callers. But my honesty has me connect the two routes as both from me.
The call lasted over an hour. Those who know me would call that short. Those who know him would call that unusually long, I would guess. Plans were sealed for a visit to the Everglades, date undetermined.
I later suggested a Monday, allowing him time with his fellow attendees and the weekend days which are Haulover’s busiest.
I chuckle to read now in the journal that as I sat in idling car at the hotel front door, he was finishing one last trick in his hotel room. Maybe he didn’t finish. Because his so-soft hand was caressing my thigh before we were blocks down the street. It was welcomed. Especially after I had just catalogued a mental note about how his hand felt as he shook it upon meeting.
Yeah, maybe he didn’t finish. Twenty minutes later sitting in a chair, he kept playing with his dick, squeezing it as it was quite visible in his pants, as he talked to me about this and that…. No actually we were talking about money for a minute. (And through all of this that I write, I will not reveal any of our rather detailed and personal conversations he and I shared between ourselves.)
Yes, I’ve walked the whole 15 miles before. No, Monday was not the day for the whole circle, as the rain clouds teased us but would not bathe us with their liquid relief.