Prey Upon the Naked
06.06.10
No longer does a blacked out day need to denote failure, rather I’d like to think it should be celebrated, at least if I’m incorporating the lessons I’ve learned over the past five months. I can gladly say that I did yesterday. I have no regrets, had no agendas and got exactly what I wanted. Although I am exhausted for the wear, I am happy nonetheless. Who knew an underwear party could be so fruitful?
My first underwear party was at Mardi Gras in Sydney and I couldn’t have chosen a better indoctrination to the experience. I’ve became an avid fan of it, mostly because it’s an excuse to be incredibly comfortable without being naked, though last night I was damn near close to it. I might have had a few square feet wrapped around my junk and I certainly got the attention for it.
However, the attention wasn’t my goal. To be quite honest, I’m getting annoyed hearing about how huge my arms have gotten. Literally, over the past week, every single person I’ve seen has mentioned it. It gets old. I’ve heard it so many times now that it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard. No wonder why sexy people are so jilted. Seriously though, I’ve never experienced such an inundation of praise over my physical appearance. So why not give everyone the show they want?
I was hoping the crowd would have been a little less dressed though. I got there early and the soccer studs still had their shirts on over their undies. It added an element of allure as the shirts would rise up ever so slightly over the crest of an ass cheek or the protrusion of a penis. I actually was flirtatious with one who had an adorable quality to him. It seemed like I had met my man for the night. At least, that’s what I thought.
However, when he was off to get another round, I saw her. She was gorgeous, tall, with an incredible smile and a certain morose quality in her gaze. I couldn’t help but notice her and she obviously noticed me sporting only undies. When she and her friends had stopped on the stairs, our eyes engaged again. I couldn’t simply smile though, I had to say hello.
It must have been the most awkward exchange in the history of bar pick-ups. Not only was I only in my underwear, but she was with two friends who didn’t seem the least bit amused by the crowd. Furthermore, I didn’t know what to say. I just knew she was beautiful and I wanted to be bold enough to bridge the gap of the unknown. We introduced ourselves and spoke briefly, revealing that she was bisexual, recently divorced with two sons.
She didn’t seem comfortable in the environs, especially when my soccer buddy returned with my water and two other men pinched my nipples as I tried to have a conversation. Imagine how awkward it could have been and then multiply by twenty. I don’t know who would have been able to pull off a real connection. Regardless, she did give me her email address on the back of her business card under the onus of grabbing a coffee. We’ll see if she ever responds.
They left soon afterward and I returned to the throng of thongs, potentially, but hidden beneath layers of clothing. I sported my briefs for a bit longer before I’d had enough and decided that everyone else was too lame to merit any further debasement. Even though the soccer boy had responsibilities to tend to, I tried to keep an eye out for him and keep the ball rolling. At some point though, it came to a blinding halt. It’s like he turned from a bouncing, joyous Gummi Bear into an erratic Eraser-tip Troll, but still in a cute way like Ashley and Mary Kate Olsen.
His lack of interest became obvious after he didn’t return from the bathroom. I wouldn’t have said I was crestfallen, but it did put my panties in a bit of a pinch. I stayed out for a bit longer, just because I didn’t feel like heading home quite yet. It was a great decision. I ran into some acquaintances that held my attention until I noticed him, a veritable prince charming with dashingly good looks. He passed me by with a smirk that playboys don when they know they can get it if they want to.
My heartbeat quickened when I realized that I was indeed on his radar and a truly attractive predator was skirting my periphery. When I was in the midst of a conversational transition, I could see him smiling at me from across the room. I couldn’t focus on the next bout of words that flew in my direction, I was a gazelle trapped in the lion’s gaze. He and his friend kept smiling. I could tell his friend was urging him to make the move and I was hoping for it too.
I must have appeared to be a complete asshole as he approached and I literally mumbled something to the blurred out image of a man that was speaking to me as I turned to Clark Kent sans glasses and greeted him full on like some doting Lois Lane. It turned out he was just as much of a nerd, but still running around in a jock body. A few tap tests, friendly thwaps to see how much cushion lay beneath the shirt, and a great conversation made me forget about the little man I’d met before.
There was a certain comfort and ease between us even though we were separated by ten years. It was only fitting that I actually connect with someone who was that much younger when I’ve recently been speaking about several of them so much. I don’t know when it happened, but I have become a chickenhawk. However, at least this little chickadee came to me.
I won’t bore anyone with the incredibly passionate exchange which was focused on physical intimacy for me. I won’t go on about the intensity of the sexual chemistry for both of us. I won’t hammer out every detail of how exactly our bodies intertwined throughout the night. But I will share the amazing moments of when I was writhing in prolonged orgasm without ejaculating, pleasure emanating in cascades from my body. When after scalding hot moments of intense passion, we shared sensually sweet, timid kisses with a depth that made me moan in longing.
There’s no doubt that I’m ecstatic about the way in which we interacted together. I’m looking forward to the next time we hang out, when the layers of timidity fade even further away as we grow more comfortable in each others presence. In the least, I know I enjoyed the way my evening ended and the morning after. We could have engaged in more egregious acts, but I don’t want to until I know him better. Regardless, I wasn’t on the prowl this time, but merely willing prey.