On my way to the airport this morning while weaving through horrendous traffic my mind retreated to a quiet corner I don’t often let it go. While being cut off by a decrepit Dodge minivan I began to fantasize. About what you ask? About what I want. And this morning what I wanted was to be curled up in the crook of a man’s shoulder, my eyes closed, absentmindedly playing with his semi-hard cock with one hand, while he gently stroked my hair and read a book. I wanted that familiarity, the comfort of skin on skin that comes with trust and time.
As I lay here in my hotel and fight the chills and aches my out of town friend shared I wonder if that desire is just a passing notion–if I will still want that in the bright sunlight of my adventuring days. I don’t know. What I do know is right now, this second, I want fingers lightly tracing my naked spine, soothing me to health. But when you’re like me, what you want changes. And that’s the catch isn’t it.