Liam's Mistake, Part 11: The Art of Seduction

You thought I forgot about this, didn't you? Well, I hadn't. Part 11 of this story, special thanks to those who recently bothered me into finishing it. You're welcome.

Graphs!

This is a graph:

Shocking, right?

 Specifically, it is a graph of my sexual encounters per season since I started fucking around.

Rugby

Is mud, blood, sweat, and rain
Hard hits, cleats slipping in the grass and mud
Arms wrapped around my legs, bringing me down.
On my back, a cleat plants itself on my elbow, digging into the flesh
I'm back up, sweat and rain blinding me as I dive into a tackle
a sudden flash of pain above my right eye, someone's knee connected with my eyebrow
I stumble, holding my head, but I'm back in the thick of things
Hitting, rucking, tackling, running
He has a breakaway, but I'm on his heels
I dive.
My shoulder connects, the hit is good.
The world explodes into light and pain.
I'm on the ground, crumpled in the mud, holding the left side of my head
I taste blood, realize it's mine.
The world sways as I find my feet
It continues to rock back and forth as I stumble off the field
the medics swirl around me, ask me questions
I spit out a broken bit of tooth, and answer
"It's game day, Saturday, April 21st, 2012"
"I feel good, I'm not nauseous, just a bit dizzy"
My eyes follow the medic's finger, left, right, up, down
My airway's clear, my neck can turn in all the right ways
I'm alive.

Update on Liam

For those of you who were wondering, I haven't been working on Liam's Mistake in a long time. My bad.

But what most of you don't know is Liam is based on a real person.  Much like the fictional character, he's an Asian boy 2 years younger than me. He's also very cute and loves being tied up.  Sadly, he and I are in different cities these days, and we rarely get the chance to talk to each other.

So, it was with great surprise and pleasure last Friday when I got a message from him on skype:
"wanna meet boyfriend?"

I immediately replied
"You have a boyfriend now?
sure!
is he cute?"

"no
he's more hunky and hawt :3"

At that point we video called.  He was over at his boyfriend's place, and the two of them were snuggled up together.  It was adorable.  Anyway, we had a good chat catching up.

The shocking thing was they haven't done anything kinky, which is crazy because Liam loves being tied up.  So, I teased Liam a bit, telling some old stories as Liam buried his face in his hands and shook his head in embarrassment. Later, when Liam had left the room, I told his boyfriend exactly what Liam likes, and I saw that horny, predatory gaze come into his boyfriend's eyes. Which is good.

My guess is by next Friday Liam will have some fresh rope burns, which he badly needs.

Father Abraham

I just got back from a rugby game followed by a rugby social. Rugby socials are a long-standing tradition where, after a game, the two opposing teams come together and drink heavily. Usually, rugby songs are sung.

During the social, somehow a drunken debate popped up over what makes something "gay."  One camp held that an action was only gay if "balls touch," another argued it's not gay if you say something manly afterward, and a third held that it's not gay if you're not hard.  The debate was left unresolved when rugby songs started up.

Rugby songs are filthy, obscene ditties that just about every rugby player knows. Some of the lyrics vary from team to team and some teams know some songs that another team doesn't, but in general if one team starts singing, the other team starts singing along.

Well, we had gotten through the usual songs of "I used to work in Chicago," "Days of the week," a few others that have slipped my mind, when the a player from the other team gets up on a chair and starts singing "Father Abraham."  Now, I don't know "Father Abraham." Neither does anyone else on my team, but we followed along as best we could, clapping in time with the music, gesturing with our arms when prompted to. "To the right" and we all stuck our arms out to the right. "To the left," and again to the left. "To the right again," we did. "To the left again." "Shirts off!" and sure enough, we took our shirts off. "Pants off." Fewer followed along this time, but I and couple others on our team did, while their entire team did. "Boxers down." Two guys on my team, myself and a senior, followed suit. And their entire team dropped their undershorts.

Here we were, standing drunkenly naked in the middle of a room full of drunk, naked rugby players. And no one sported a hard on. They then mooned us all, allowing us a pleasant view of the tattoo on most of their asses, and then the clothes went back on.  The best part was one of them shouted "none of us got hard, it's not gay!" To which Sam, the guy on our team who had been arguing that point the whole afternoon, shouted "YES!"

Good times.

Invictus

Tomorrow, Spring Break begins.
Earlier Today, I had two midterms.
And two weeks ago yesterday, my depression reached a terrifying low point.

Thankfully, my friends were there, are there, when I needed them to be and nothing bad happened. I got extensions or exemptions on the work I missed around there and my professor brought in his dog that Friday to keep me company. So, yeah, that sucked balls.

But I saw a psychologist, I've been referred to psychiatric health over at the med center, I've signed all of the paperwork releasing my information to them, and I have my first appointment on May 2nd. That's far off, but I'll be fine until then.

And when I do get help, I'll be open to medication. Anyway, that raps up that for now.

Onward to the far more interesting things we care about: my sex life.

Karla and I slept together.  Oh wait, you thought I meant I fucked her? I didn't, we just literally slept together, as in we ate ice cream and watched a movie together in her bed and that slept together.  We hang out, we share notes, we eat together, she knows I want her, and she says she thinks I'm cute. But she also says I'm like a brother to her and we can never, ever be romantically involved. And then she complains about how all guys treat her like an object.

I would like to point this is not the first girl to treat me like this.  Somehow, all of the girls who I find intellectually, physically, emotionally attractive see me as a close friend, a confidant, a brother, but never as a sex object. Which is really, really weird because most of the gay guys I know want my cock. It's a strange dichotomy.

Speaking of gay guys, Max wants to know why I'm not sleeping with him anymore. The reason is I'm lazy. He's decently far away, I've had him a dozen times, he's not that cute, we don't do anything kinky. Sex with him has lost a great deal of its appeal.

Ralphie and I are probably never going to see each other again. How tragic. He's coming back home tomorrow for Spring Break, I'm leaving tomorrow. Unless we run into each other in the late afternoon, we're not going to see each other.  And after this spring break, he's not coming home again. He's graduating, moving even further away, and going straight into grad school for architecture. So, I won't get his delightful ass again in the foreseeable future.

Joe has contacted me again. We're going to grab dinner together in a couple weeks, he's going to tie me up in a motel room and we'll see what goes on from there.

But tomorrow, I leave for a cross country trek that will take me to the west coast and back over the course of 9 days, and that'll be good.

Mental Illness, revisited

This isn't fun either. Feel free to skip it.