Hair Today...

Since I alluded to my minor surgery in my last post and have decided that all my friends who read this blog now know about it (and those who read the blog that I don't know probably can't identify me) I can now affirm that I was referring to a hair transplant. This is actually my second (the first was 9 years ago). My "issues" were that I just really don't want a receding hairline and I was due for a touch up from the last time. I will say with all sincerity that this time was 80% more pleasant and effective than the last one in the procedure AND recovery time (there have been a LOT of advancements made). So, in just over a week I am now doing regular activities (i.e. working out, shopping etc) without a hat. And something I learned from the first time; the only people who can usually tell you've had work done are a) barbers/stylists b) doctors or c) people who have also had them. So, while I can spot them a mile a way (pretty much any male actor on TV past the age of 35 has had one) when they are done well, there's really little way of detecting them unless you know what to look for. And while I made the mistake of telling my aunt (telegraph, telephone, tell an aunt = tell the world) I'm strangely at peace knowing my entire family knows about it now. It doesn't phase me, since a) I look good with it b) it means they know I have money to do something like that. But it does also underscore my vanity, which is why I'm sincerely thinking of doing some volunteer work (starting next week) just to get myself back on ballance.

Wednesday was another Game night at Sven's. We ended up working out together at the gym, then heading over to his house after. The game itself was nearly not as momentous as the incredibly tasting ice-cream drumsticks served (for some reason they just really hit the spot) as well as the conversations Sven and I had afterwards, which involved Bull and my time during the 4th of July party. It actually got pretty gossipy and reminded me of two highschool jocks ripping on the the lesser members of the clique when they weren't around. But our humor is so in synch that we just kept going in spite of being the only two finding the conversation amusing or entertaining.


And lastly, I did get to do the "bone dance" with a kid I used to fuck from time to time before I left for Europe (he's from Acapulco, 23 now and looks like a cliff-diver, so I'll call him "Cliff"). He's always been a consistently good fuck. This time when he came to my place we didn't waste too much time on pleasantries. After getting his NICE hole wet (well, you be the judge) I started fucking him from behind. I would slowly adjust his body little by little, never losing a stroke until finally I was on top of him in the missionary position. This time for some reason, the boy was going crazy; he grabbed his ankles with his hands, spreading them wide open and gave me a look like, "Do it! It's wide open for you." I took some DEEP long strokes inside him and LOVED the fact that I could feel all the rings inside his hole (guys with long dicks out there...you know what I'm talking about). I gave it to him for a good 1/2 hour and then thought I shouldn't be too greedy as I might wear him out. So, we both came with me on top of him humping his boy-pussy (he did have to jack himself off tho).