Well that worked out a week's worth of frustration.
Everyone knows sex is good for you, it keeps you healthy, it gives you a workout, it helps you work out aggression and tension. Dan Savage even has a clip about how the aggressiveness of sex allows you to get over all the things that frustrate you about your partner in a relationship, and its true, and if you play as hard and rough as I like to then it definitely helps to purge your system.
I met up with a fuckbuddy yesterday evening. It took me OVER AN HOUR to get from Westbourne Park to Baron's Court, which I was not impressed at, espeically as it ate into the time I had with him before his flatmates got home :P He's a guy I've known for several years, but we don't meet up much, simply because we both have insanely busy lives. But this is good, cause it means we understand the fact that each other might not be available for months at a time, and in the gay cruising world where its all about right here right now, someone that understands you want to get freaky with them, you just can't right this second, is a rarity.
This boy definitely plays hard, and considers me worth waiting for as I can apparently take it ('it' meaning lots of things here, not just the actual fucking) harder than any of the other guys he plays with. Any sex between the two of us generally tends to just be a rapeplay session, which isn't something I'm complaining about, and he's damned good at giving me lots of verbal (that's talking dirty to the rest of you), which is possibly my favouritest thing in sex. Anyway, after an hour and a quarter wearing each other out. off I headed to go get the bus home (which thankfully only took the usual 25 minutes this time around.)
And on the way home, after a week where I've been mostly lost in my own head, thinking about Chris, and Uni, and Terence, and Jack, and the summer, and next year, and everything like that, my head was completely calm. And I remembered how a good hard fuck can just clear everything up for you, and make life completely simple. It's not that I suddenly knew the answer to all the questions I've been asking myself recentl; I just simply couldn't recall the fact there was a question in the first place. And of course, Chris normally does this when I see him each weekend, and sure we had sex last weekend, but given that he's part of the things going through my head, it didn't have quite the same effect.
So let this be a lesson to you all, in case you didn't already know it. When it all gets to much, when you're screaming at yourself, when you could gladly run away from it all and never look back, go have sex. Raw, exhausting, aggressive, primal, animalistic sex. You should hurt afterwards. And be ready to collapse the second you get back into your own bed.
And I guarantee you everything will be that much simpler for a few hours.
How's that for honest and graphic?
And of course, the sentiment didn't last; I spent the early hours of the morning pacing around my room thinking about boys. Luckily, as previously mentioned, the gay scene is geared to right here right now, so that's always fixable with the next guy...
Mood: At the time: serene. Now: Moderate.