Sunday Morning Questions: Presented Without (Much) Comment Edition

So on Friday I found myself here, for lunch:

Oh yeah. I was eating a tossed salad on Deep Hole Road. (And dropping that tidbit into casual conversation every chance I got, after.)

Show of hands. How many out there think this road's named after you?

And without further ado, let's get to some questions.


What is the hottest yet non-sexual thing that turns you on? (i.e. knowledge or interest in something)

This is really silly-sounding, but I find it irresistibly sexy when someone has an expertise in something and becomes wildly enthusiastic about it.

It could be an IT guy who's totally geeked out about some new internet protocol that he's trying to explain to me at a party, or a guy into comic books who is outlining the plot of his favorite new issue to me. It could be an art historian trying to interest me in the history of a painting, or a playwright talking to me seriously about the intricacies of characterization. It could even be the dopey bartender talking about how tough it is to model underwear. If they are really into it, and if they have a palpable enthusiasm for their subject, I find it utterly charming and irresistible.


Have you ever stolen a guy's underwear?

A very long time ago I used to live in an apartment complex right above a pair of men who I'm pretty sure were just roommates. David and Joaquin, their names were. David was a lean jock, and Joaquin was a beefy, muscled, built Latin. I'd pass them when I was heading to my job in the morning and they were going to the gym together, and then I'd see them at night when they were drenched in cologne and heading out to the local pick-up bar. They weren't friends of mine, but we were friendly enough that they'd slap me on the back and call me 'buddy' as we passed.

One day I went into the basement, where the laundry room was, and found that Joaquin had left his dirty laundry sitting in a basket on the table. Lying on top was a pair of very scanty red briefs. I immediately stole them and took them back up to my apartment, where I jacked off with them on my face.

I kept that pair of underwear for years, thinking I'd be able to sneak it back in his laundry at some point—but I never got the opportunity. They moved out, and then I moved on, and eventually I discarded them. But damn, they smelled good when I snitched them out of that basket.


Are you comfortable with the amount of body hair you have? do you wish you had more? Less?

I've got plenty of hair on my head, plenty of leg hair, way too much ear hair, and nice pubes. But I've always wished I had more chest hair. Or, you know. Any chest hair.

When I was growing up, I was fascinated by men who had acres of fur growing on their chests. I actually thought it was something to which men were entitled when they were grown—when really I should've been looking at my father's chest for a clue about how I'd eventually look. He's always had a hairless chest with a pouf of wispy hair in the center, like someone had thrown a tiny Brillo pad there.

When I reached adulthood, I more or less had to consign myself to the fact that I was going to have nothing more than a lot of hair around my nipples and a few wispy strands in between. However, twice in the last month I've gotten compliments on my chest hair from men. I had to look at myself in the mirror to realize that the wispy strands had gotten a little more numerous and actually don't look too bad.

However, I wish I still had more.


Would you walk up to a stranger and kiss them on a dare?

Nope.


At what age do you think you were ready to have sex?

I thought I was ready at 10, when I started hunting for it in restrooms and parks. I was ready for it when it finally happened, at 12.

Sometimes it's late. Sometimes it's early.  But sex is one of those things that comes to the person when he's ready for it, if he's left to his own devices.


If you were an animal what animal would you be? (I worked for a company that asked that when interviewing for manager positions)

I would be a lion—fiercely protective of my tribe while working with the other providers to ensure that everyone was protected and well fed. Serene and hard-working at heart, while fierce when threatened by predators from without.

Okay, so that's my job interview bullshit answer. Did I get the position? I'd really be an old tomcat that lolls around in the sun, gets fat, and gets petted a lot before he sprays on people's back doors.


What colors do you think look best on you?

I tend to dress myself in earth colors—browns, slates, and forest greens. When I go for more colorful items, they tend to be deep purples or vibrant, but dark blues.


If someone were writing an erotic novel about your life, what would it be called?

The Encyclopedia.


would you be my mr grey

I've not read that series of books, nor do I really intend to, so I don't know exactly what that involves.

Personally, I'd rather be your Mr. Steed—being myself is always much better than trying to fit someone else's mold.


Have you ever travelled specifically to have a hook up? ie, not just had sex when travelling, but made plans to go a long distance because you wanted to have a liason with a specific person?

Absolutely. There have been times in my life where I've thought nothing about driving across several states for a hookup with someone who was offering a specific type of sex. When I lived in Michigan, in the nineteen-nineties there were a handful of individuals and couples in Pennsylvania and Tennessee I'd make overnight trips to see, because I knew they'd give me exactly what I wanted.

It's not something I do so much anymore, however. Guys come to visit me. I like that.