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Dancing with Charles April 08, 2005 @ 3:29 p.m.

His name was Charles, and although I later asked him if he preferred to be called by a nickname, he didn't express any preference either way; kind of like me, except I don't like being called Davy. He fell for my good looks and surprsingly enough, my dance moves. Apparently, I'm "hella cute", although I have to say its weird to be complemented in the language of my brother's generation - he is 18. I sat with him for a minute or so after his friend left and smiled while he nervously tried to make conversation. It was really cute. He asked me what I liked, and I said "Well, I like to dance. Care to join me?"

Hand in hand, I escorted him to a dance floor that had completely filled, leaving no room for the more fluid moves I usually like to do. We danced individually for a bit, but it wasn't long before I took his hands in mine and played around with my own patented mix of swing and improvisation (not that you need to pay royalties - I really don't dance that well). When I put my hands on his back, I discovered that unfortunately it was rock-hard with tension. I felt bad for him - I know how it is to be uptight and/or nervous to that degree. So as I danced with him, I massaged him and tried to get him to relax. Eventually he did - and so did I, to a degree I hadn't anticipated.

I danced close with him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug of both affectionate comfort and stimulated attraction. I held him to me and felt his body up against mine, wishing all the while that I could have enjoyed this kind of dancing in high school like the other kids, instead of always having to settle for ackward dances with good-intentioned girls while eying Mike Fox across the room. We relaxed into each other in a beautiful way, and mouthing into his ear, I whispered, "I dare you to kiss me".

Kiss me he did, and what a wonderful kisser he turned out to be. A little too much tongue now and then, but that evening I really didn't mind. He has really nice full lips that taste lovely. I almost didn't notice the stud he had in his tongue, which is something that would have bothered me an age ago, but lately I don't seem to mind anymore. He had just enough stubble-growth of beard to really turn me, and I found that the sweat on his face and neck was wonderfully sweet.

We passed the next few hours between the dance floor and the tables, making out very sensously. The great thing about the younger guys that are more new to such things is that they'll follow your lead, and if you show them right away what you like, they'll be happy to give it to you. Our hands ran over our backs, arms, necks and faces, mixing light touch with massages. Our lips played so many games that they were a little sore afterwards. Our legs pressed together, among other things. I was downright racy at a couple points, when we lay down vertically coupled on a booth seat until a guy told us to knock it off. I'd like to think he was just jealous - its amazing how much you can do without having to take clothes off. And yet, I was really wishing I could do just that.

He lives just outside Sacramento, and I had to get Greg home that night, so unfortunately we had to leave each other with phone numbers and promises to get together soon. My whole body felt jazzed as Greg and I drove out of Sacramento. Somewhat foolishly, I had him stick in a Norah Jones album that reflected my romantic mood. Foolish because as we drove back down 80, we both began to get really tired. After Norah's performance, Greg had to get me to sing along with the radio for the next half hour or so to make sure my eyes stayed open and the car stayed in one piece. Driving on the backroads of Highway 12 and Adobe Road, that was no fun. We got back a little after 3 am.

And I'm having dinner with Charles tomorrow.

"Details in the Fabric" - May 31, 2009
Not So Quick Questions - April 6, 2009
The Morning Stars - Lords of the 15 - April 9, 2009
Sincerity and Faith in Magic - April 10, 2009
Not So Quick Questions (2) - April 14, 2009

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