Once Curt got my "Are you still at work?" letter, the following e-mail ensued in almost real-time:
Yes I am still here, what are you doing for dinner tonight?
I was just thinking of heading to Burger King. How in the world are you keeping going? Don't you need some sleep? (Not that I'd mind seeing ya. I just don't want you to conk(sp) out.) :-)
So what if I conk out, I would never fall a sleep on you. I am hungry. Call me or e-mail me.
Well, you definitely don't seem to be suffering from Greg-itis. Koool.
What is Greg-itis????
As in Greg, the red head... never having any time to see me and not paying me hardly any attention. *smile*
After that last e-mail, I called Curt and he said he'd meet me here at my apartment. At a little before 11PM, he arrived and we headed to the same pizza place as the night before. Twenty minutes after that, we returned with a large pepperoni and ate it on the floor.
From there, we sampled my CD collection then started Wes Craven's New Nightmare. As with The River Wild, by the end of the movie, less attention was being paid on it than on the immediate surroundings. Curt and I were holding each other and once again our shirts came off. A while later, my hands went exploring and down into the front of his boxers. --The night before, he'd guided my hand there, but I'd buckled my knuckles so that my hand wouldn't fit past his waistline.-- As my hands were inside the front of his boxers, I was careful not to actually touch anything, but to only flirt around the area.
Pretty soon, Curt's hands were in my boxers and his hand brushed up against the side of me. I took that and his behavior the day before as his signal that it was okay for me to touch him, so I did. Before long, things were getting really hot and heavy. I thought it would be just a few minutes before someone was ready to go, so to speak, so I told Curt that we should take a break.
We paused for a few minutes of just laying in the bed, but Curt's hands had a tendency to keep going back in my boxers. Soon, I asked, "So when were you thinking you'd leave?" Truth is, I wasn't sure where things were headed and I didn't want bodily fluids to come into play. I knew that I'd have A) felt extremely uncomfortable, B) wanted to take a shower, and C) wanted Curt to leave... and you can't really ask someone to leave after that and at 5AM.
I explained myself and we agreed to call it quits for the night. I went to the kitchen and before I returned, I put another pair of boxers on... to keep wandering hands out.
When I got back into the bedroom, Curt was in his boxers and a T-shirt curled up. I hugged myself next to him and we moved around several times trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. During this time, Curt's hands started wandering, and so I said, "I can't sleep if I think your hands are going to be in my boxers." He said he'd keep his hands out and shortly thereafter, we fell asleep. (I knew Curt was just trying to express the many years he'd repressed himself, --He'd found a new toy and didn't want to let go.-- but I also knew Curt well enough to know that if he said he wouldn't put his hands back in my boxers, he wouldn't.)
The next morning, we woke around noon and once again began to hug. It was really nice to be next to him, so after thinking for a while, I decided that it would bring us closer if I trusted him enough to be naked around him. I said something about how since I was awake, I could take off the second pair of boxers, --I'd told Curt about them when I said that he needed to keep his hands from wandering.-- and when Curt thought I was taking off the outer pair, I took off them both.
A few seconds later, I'd told Curt what I'd done and he reached down to check. When he felt that I truly wasn't wearing anything, he took his boxers off as well and for the next few hours, we layed next to each other hugging and caressing.
At a little before 5PM, I'd once again put the halt on the caressing in order to avoid the guilty feelings associated with bodily fluids. I told Curt that I needed to get some things done and he asked if we were still on for dinner and a movie. I was pretty much dumbfounded. This guy couldn't get enough of me.
So I said yes, found that Homeward Bound 2 was playing at 9 o'clock, and agreed to meet back with Curt at my apartment at 7PM so we could eat a Chili's in Copley before the movie.
I typed the previous diary entry and at around 7:30PM, Curt arrived and we went to the Cheri parking garage and purchased two tickets for The Birdcage. --I knew it would take at least an hour to eat and I didn't want to be rushed. Not to mention that Curt had suggested The Birdcage as a possible movie choice when we were checking out the titles before.
Once the tickets were purchased, we walked to Copley and ate dinner at Chili's. Once that was over, we walked around Copley and the Pru. It just so happened that a high school track convention was occuring in one of the hotels and Curt saw another coach he knew. He left me to walk inside one of the doors, then brought his friend back out to introduce me as his friend. (Curt later apologized for introducing me as just a friend, but I told him that he was doing great. He did introduce me and handled the situation better than I could have expected. -- For comparison sake, a similar situation came into play one night when I was out with Greg. He talked for about ten minutes before saying "This is Justin." and introducing me. He continued to talk and never brought me into the conversation. Add to that, I had to completely not write about the incident and how I felt because of the R-A-R-E chance that the other guy would somehow read the diary and put two and two together.)
So anyway, Curt talked to this fellow coach for a bit, then we headed back into the Pru to kill a little more time. Once we'd gotten a little past the middle of the mall, we passed a red headed guy walking the in opposite direction. I said it was time to turn around and Curt laughed at how obvious I was.
Before we could get to Cheri, Curt ran into some high school girls that knew him. One asked "Is he running?" and Curt said no. I just sorta hung in the background for the less than a minute that they talked. I was in a sort of awe at how the girl asked, "Is he running?" without ever mentioning a name and both she and Curt knew exactly who was being referred to. I got a major warm fuzzy feeling and remembered how Chris and I had that similar bond. Curt is that synonymous with his version of my Chris.
From there, we headed to the Cheri and got in a major line for the movie. As the doors opened, we quickly piled into the theatre and watched a truly funny movie.
About half way through, I reached down and squeezed Curt's leg. He smiled and in turn, reached down and held my hand for a bit. For a guy that wasn't even out to himself a month ago, he's making great progress.
Anyway, after the movie was over, we went back into the parking garage and once we got into the car, I leaned over to give Curt a kiss. The parking lot was nearly completely empty but he looked around before leaning back over to kiss me. I smiled at his nervousness.
Curt then dropped me off at my apartment. I gave him a few hugs and a couple of kisses and he headed home. Before I went to bed, though, Curt mailed to ask if I'd like him to drive me to the airport... I could definitely get used to this attention.
March 12, 1996
12:21PM Above Lake Ontario
This morning I woke with Curt next to me. He'd arrived around 9PM last night to spend a few more hours with me before taking me to the airport this morning. --Incidentally, last night I once again discussed how I was waiting for my red headed knight. Curt said he understood and I explained that I thought Rob and Adam understood, but they didn't. Who knows? I think he does understand, but all I can do is make my intentions as clear as possible.
So anyway, I finished packing and each of us took a shower before Curt went to pick up his car from the garage. When he returned, we loaded my suitcases and hurriedly drove to the airport. (My flight was scheduled for 11:15AM and we'd ignored the alarm clock, so it was 10:20AM before we left my apartment.)
Once Curt had parked in the American Airlines garage, I leaned over to give him what I thought would be a final kiss, but when we were in the elevator, he gave me another. (Speaking of which, afterwards, each of us, almost subconsciously, looked for a security camera. ) We checked my baggage at the loading station, said good-bye, and I walked to the gate and straight onto the plane.
And speaking of the plane, this flight is pretty sparsely filled. I have the entire row to myself. Quite a change from the flight back from Pennsylvania.
The food cart is nearing and all I can think is "If they offer three selections, what happens to the leftovers?"
Well, I ate my Southwestern Chicken, but before I could finish, I had to get out the video camera and shoot a couple of seconds of the red head about three rows up (like he's going somewhere ) I coyily acted as though I were videoing the view from the window, then quickly panned to the opposite side of the cabin to video the back side of his head. --Yes, I admit it freely: I am obsessed.-- I was so nervous that I'd be caught that the camera was almost shaking. From what I could tell, physically, he's about all I could want; stocky, bright red hair, freckled skin. Now if I could only figure out a way to talk to him.
Barely getting any sleep last night, I was able to take a short nap. Now, we're over what looks like barren frontierland, the kind of place you'd see in a Western. I've never seen anything like it.
The red head is scratching his head and so I can see his arm... covered with orange hair and freckles. I NEED ONE.
Yesterday, I got e-mail from a 24 Hours in Cyberspace writer asking for permission to quote the diary and telling me that I'd probably get a lot of e-mail from the profile. While this exposure will be nice, I care less about it than about the possibility of my red headed knight being one of the new Koool page visitors.
Less than an hour to go and I'm about bored silly. If I didn't have passenger 29A to occupy my thoughts, I'd have already passed the "about" point.
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© 1996 Justin Clouse