Thorn in My Side, Pt. 2

[Looking ahead to the resolution of the Kyle saga, I notice that I neglected to describe him or why I thought he was so hotsy-totsy. Since I almost left my boyfriend of almost two years (now, almost four), some explanation may be in order.]

[Kyle Resnick, 32, from Long Island, New York. Sandy blond hair cut short. A manager at a well-known, well-established nonprofit. Masters degree, stable income, his own one-bedroom apt. in the Mission, had lived in San Francisco for several years, had moved here with his boyfriend from Chicago, where they'd been involved in local theatre (on the production side, I seem to recall). Handsome, a bit like a more robust, much less flighty Andy Bell in his prime.]

[The sexual chemistry is hard to describe. It was difficult for us to be in the same room together for more than five minutes without tearing at each other's clothes. Even after I made my decision to stick with John, we had at least one "reunion," after which we felt tremendously guilty, but it was as though we couldn't help ourselves. And he brought an energy, a focus to the act itself that blew me away, time after time.]

[Honestly, he had (has, I guess) a pretty small dick. And it really didn't matter! We fucked with a passion which I've tasted with other men, but which others were never able to maintain for more than one or two go-'rounds. I got the feeling our ardor wouldn't fade as fast. It was that good. He had a lovely, smooth, toned body that I could still be licking today.]

[He had me to dinner on I think our third date. He belonged to the Champagne-of-the-Month Club, and wasn't shy aobut consuming it. He had a large TV, lots of videotapes, but no CD collection and no stereo. He taped sitcoms. He was very into Disney memorabilia, and had several framed posters from the recent animated films. (I recall "Beauty and the Beast" and "Hercules.") His library included only a few self-help, "How to Find the Perfect Man" books. His only other art were several framed black-and-whites of naked, buffed male couples. His watering hole was the Midnight Sun, which I would describe as a completely generic video bar in which it's easy to stand around and look pretty, but difficult to have a decent conversation. After two weeks of seeing each other, he told me he loved me.]

[There, that should set the stage for tomorrow's entry.]

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