Ook Ook 🦍

"My parents have hired a private investigator! They'll find out you were once a gogo boy... We'll be scandalized!"

The Brit arrived on 19 December 2019. I met him at the airport, I was still well muscled and I wore my leather bar gear: big boots, torn jeans, cock pumped up IMMENSE, leather biker jacket, deep scoop t-shirt, bodybuilder pendant necklaces and biker rings. The Brit was... pleased to see me.

He was able to combine vacation days (holidays) and a very long company Christmas shut-down to he could stay until mid-January. His employer was going through layoffs (redundancies) and reorganization so he'd have to telecommute most days. But he was with me for about 4 weeks. We'd be able to learn how we handle day to day mundanity punctuated with lust and kink.

We visited some of my favorite local bars and restaurants. We fed the feral cats together. Grocery shopped together. Washed clothes together.

The Brit enjoys video games so he tried to introduce me to some that he played. We found out I lack the interest and temperament for them. So we decided when we lived together that when the Brit settled in for gaming I would step out to the nearest pub.

We discussed our experiences as hypnotist and subject. The Brit asked me which hypnotic experience was most engrossing for me, he thought I'd probably say the sensory amplification sessions. I told him for me it was back in his home in October when he hypnotically entangled me in thorny vines full of psychotropic drugs that immobilized me, tranquilized me, and amplified my pleasure touch sense. The Brit smiled and said, "Ah yes, silencing a gorilla!"

I felt he had reduced a wonderful couple hours of affectionate intimacy and power exchange to nothing more than a break for peace and quiet. I felt betrayed and trivialized. We never shared hypnosis during his visit.

The Brit caught a cold. On the way home from work I got him Thai tom kha gai soup and over the counter cold medicines. The cats and I did what we could to comfort him. His employer was putting more pressure on him and he tried to put in a few hours of work each day. They stress weighed heavily on him.

He was largely recovered a week later.

One night in bed I told the Brit I still didn't have a coherent understanding of his sexual history with fucking and getting fucked.

He told me of his earliest sexual experiences, some childhood bullying traumas, fooling around with other teenage boys, getting fucked a couple of times and not caring for it, partnering with boyfriends, adventures while traveling ("He fucked me from every angle!"), live-in boyfriends, one-time hookups, romances, and break-ups.

I could see my bedroom clock over his shoulder, he talked for 1 hour 45 minutes. I interjected comments to show I was listening and interested 3 times. The Brit stayed calm and chatty the whole while and never got angry with me for "talking over him." I hoped it would be a new trend.

The next evening I told the Brit that I truly appreciated him sharing his sexual history but what he told me about the times he was fucked seemed to contradict him telling me on my balcony that him getting fucked was "probably not going to happen." I didn't understand.

The Brit giddily exclaimed, "Of course you don't understand, that was 20 years! FUCKING IS FUN!"

I told him never mind, we'd talk about it another time. I went to bed.

When the Brit came to bed he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't want this."

The next morning I asked the Brit if he could answer a couple of simple questions about him getting fucked.

He replied, "I wanted to talk about it, you just wanted to sulk and pout!"

We drove to a thrift store (charity shop) in a nearby shopping plaza but it was closed. As I started to back out of the parking space the Brit exclaimed "Careful!"

I braked quickly, looked all around, and asked the Brit "What?"

The Brit pointed to a car moving at walking speed around the corner and 2 parking lanes away. I composed myself and told him if needed to startle me while I was driving it would be more helpful if he said something like "car on the right" or "shopper behind you."

The next evening the Brit told me I had no right to speak to him that way. "Careful" is a common thing to say.

I told him if he was going to scold me for something so trivial we might as well break up now.

By the end of the month we were on stable ground again. The Brit and I tried a "test drive" of him fucking me for a couple minutes. For my first time in around 35 years. It was mostly a learning experiment but I was glad we did it.

We did it again the next morning.

On December 30, 2018 at 10:35 AM local time the Brit and I stood on my front landing drinking coffee and tea. I was still dwelling on his "Careful!" scolding.

I told him I was disappointed that I had asked him for some concessions and accommodations like he had asked from me but he had not yet acted on my requests.

The Brit looked shocked. "I've done many, many things for you!" he said.

I told him he did many things to help keep us going because he was considerate that way, but there were some very specific things I told him I needed and he hadn't even touch on them.

The Brit fell still and silent looking down at his feet. After about a minute he silently stood up, took out his smartphone, started checking return flights, and headed into the bedroom to pack.

For the record, the accommodations I asked for were:

Apologize for the emotional impact of your 3 FUCK YOU emails. The first time I asked he said "I stand by every point I made." The second time it was "I stand by every point I made" again. The third time I asked he replied casually, "I thought I did. Sorry."

Don't condescend.

Don't be passive-aggressive.

Don't use language styles you forbid me to use, e.g., rip into me for saying "That's how people talk" but you yourself say "It's a common thing to say."

Accuse me of deflecting but you yourself blow off my requests to work out our conflicts by saying "You're the only one I have this problem with" or "I shouldn't have to work that hard" or "I don't see the point" or just plain "No."

Don't accuse me of minimalization when you yourself minimalized my perspective on trans people: "You're probably just frightened because it's not what you're used to." Or your indiscretion with the Boot Pup: "To be fair, Boot Pup and I had planned on watching that series for quite a while."

Talk to me in unambiguous language. I don't always understand British subtlety: "I suppose."

I caught up with the Brit in the bedroom packing to leave. I caught a glimpse of his phone, a return flight that day would cost him 4839 pounds or dollars, I couldn't make out the currency. I told him that was outrageous, I could book him a room at one of my employer's hotels so he could leave in a day or two on a less expensive flight.

"It's only money," he said.

After about an hour of frustration trying to reach the airline he conceded to fly out the next day. I reserved a room at a hotel very close to the airport. Check-in time wasn't until 3 PM.

I made us bowls of chicken and pasta for lunch. We ate on the balcony quietly. The Brit looked up and said, "Thank you for being so supportive."

I told him I always believed we were men of good conscience and good intentions, and we would treat each other kindly and fairly no matter how our relationship played out.

The Brit took off the Very Big Ring and said I should probably have it back. I told him to keep it, it was his. Keep it as a reminder of a man whose reach exceeded his grasp. Or throw it in the Mersey so he'd always know where it was.

I drove us to the hotel and checked in the Brit using my employee discount. We brought his bags to his room and stopped at a mezzanine bar for drinks and chips with salsa. I got angry when I asked him why he never stopped condescending to me and he replied "Because you wouldn't be reasonable."

Don't tell yourself your expectations of another person are reasonable. Ask asomeone who has no vested interest.

I said goodbye and left.