I became preternaturally consumed by the sound of putting on a shirt today. The rustle, the thunder, the necessity of it. I changed shirts when one proved too slovenly. Sartorially I am not a fashionista but I have some standards of decorum. Today I wear a shirt with a Schroeder stickpin. Schroeder at the piano. I might wear this to the bar tonight, if I have the guts to return to the bar where my angry ex might still hold court.
The sounds of the shirt going over my head, the sensations of it gently touching my body in most parts of its coverage, firmly clasping my shoulders and wrists. The erotica of sealing up my crotch had already occurred. Tight red underpants and loose-fitting chinos. The socks, too, already slipped on. Thermal socks on what should be a 70 degree day. A doubled-up jacket as well, though I won’t wear it outdoors much.
After getting the shirt on and my body covered I felt every piece of fabric, the socks surrounding and gently grasping my feet. The pants baggy enough to hide my bulge, as the tight underpants suppress it even more. Still, it ends up being obvious. I look in the mirrors at work and see the unmistakable space it occupies.
I read that men touch themselves down there something like 30 or 40 times a day. I’ve known this. To me it’s not an unconscious tic. I knowingly and for reason slip a grab in once in a while. Sometimes while I am talking on the phone I might play with the tip like a twiddly thing. I’ve stroked my balls during other calls. If the caller has a sexy voice I touch nothing, instead letting the natural awakening of my balls respond to that soft sweet voice. There have been a number of times when she could have been saying anything and I’d feel aroused.
Now I endeavor to feel everything in my body. The tinnitus overpowers but can be muted. It is very quiet where I am, though sudden sounds burp from the farther desks. My hair on my head feels heavy but calm. Fingers feel warm, veins in the hands look healthy and firm but not hard. Tips of fingers are where I breathe, or so I like to fantasize. I breathe through the fingers and exhale through the feet. Sometimes I reverse the path.
Feeling a hair on my face. Do I feel it growing? Is that possible to feel the root of the hair increase in length as it increases in length?
Bottoms of my feet are warm and tingly. Heart is beating but not too hard, thanks to magical BP and anxiety pills. Heart was pounding hard in the shower today, between hot water pounding across my body and a beautiful woman on live video playfully messing with a dildo while whispering clever questions and comments. Half her comments were Japanese but when she spoke English I felt every utterance stimulate my mind. During my brief foray into being a professional masturbator the woman always commented on my vigor. Most guys edge, or just flop it around lazily. I took to it like it was an emergency. The viewers liked me but I never knew who they were. All faceless.
I think I’m feeling additionally serene since I started taking a nighttime multivitamin. It makes up a lot of the good stuff you piss away from the booze.
I wonder if this woman I think I’m after, and who I believe to be looking at me in that way, if she has a liquor cabinet at home. I bet she does.
There are actually two women in play for me. One felt at first like another silly flirtation with a checkout girl at a deli/restaurant but I think she’s really sweet and trying to get my attention. She remembers everything about my routines and purchases. In the morning she says “See you at noon for coffee.” Yesterday I did, in fact, go there for coffee at noontime and looked around for her. I couldn’t find her and did not want to make myself conspicuous. But she caught me looking for her. I think she thought it was cute. She even took off her mask and revealed, for the first time to me, a sweet smile and healthy face.
She might be 30-something. Asians can be hard to age. The last one I knew was 26, turned 27, or so she said. She may have lied about almost everything, though her fetish for white men was insatiable and unapologetic. Maybe this next woman, also Asian, has similar fetishistic desires for white guys.
I’ve seen it stigmatized when white men fetishize Asian women but I don’t recall the outcry when those tables are turned.
I just walked across the room for another cup of water. I felt the pants brush against my legs, and the breezes blow up the pants across my skin. The shirt is untucked, allowing those breezes to touch me in erotic ways. I don’t know how unusual it is but I can get a boner from a soft breeze.
I talked to a star last night. An Emmy winning Executive Producer of a significant documentary. Her first words were about my voice. She analyzed it, saying it was different for being confident, knowledgeable, but nice, and “friendly.” She said the “friendly” part was an unusual part of this sort of mix. It reminded me of a phone sex encounter, possibly the only I ever recorded, and how I sounded like such a nice guy. A nice, horny, smut-talking guy who wanted her to wrap those legs around my head while I dug my tongue and fingers into her. But always a nice guy, asking for assurances at every step, just like I am in the flesh.
Sometimes I think I need too many assurances. Too much “yes”. Even when those assurances come I remain skeptical. No one wants this.
Between the pills, the multivitamin, the hearty breakfast from Jubilee on John and Gold, and a decent night’s sleep with no dreams of note… I feel serene at this moment. Serene and alert. Just wish the tinnitus could evaporate on its own, and not under the weight of my mental sludge.
I just received a “Dave verification code” from a (712) area code phone number. Looks legit. Funny thing though is I sent an email to a friend named Dave last night, soliciting his help for something next week. Maybe this is his funny way of saying he’ll do it.
I might need someone to drive me home from a colonoscopy, my first ever. I guess I’ll be sedated but I think there’s an option of having an escort drive you home or else just sit in the room for an hour. I don’t think this sedation is as intense as when I had the teeth pulled last year. That shit was crazy, total lights out for probably about an hour. I suspect this sedation will be about as intense as when I had the endoscopies done. You drift off to unconsciousness and return just minutes later.
Can’t wait to see what’s up my butt.