statictick

I initially wanted to show semi-porno pix of me and the man, but I copped to using these. These were taken during the only real separation we have had in twenty years. I didn't want to use them, being that they exploit a fifty year old man wasted on crank. Then I thought better of them, and of him. I did ditch him in a nasty way, so, here he is, embraced, whether I like it or not. His name is Steven, but it's really Weavie.

My first, and only other real boyfriend was a leather boy from high school. We spent lunch hours and other breaks in time fucking in the woods. I'd still be with him if he didn't "turn straight." He was just oversexed anyway. Who wasn't at that age?

I met Steven at the age of 17. He was 30, and did his best to try not to fuck me until I turned 18 (like I would have told authorities). I got the better end of the stick before the law would have allowed, so POINT ONE for me.

We have been together for 20 years. There have been breakups, separations, and all that bullshit. What remains is this: I love him, he loves me. I have killed him off in fiction, tried to do it in person, and all I get is a skinny, blonde, well-hung dude who kisses the back of my ears and says, "your love is so important." That's my dude. He clouds every other object of desire I have ever entertained.