A NEW BEGINNING

It's been quite some time since I've actually posted a new article. But here it is!

I lost my house that Dennis and I owned in May 2015, leaving me homeless for a time while I searched for a new place to live. In July of 2015, I saw an ad on Craigslist for a roommate to share an apartment. I sent an inquiry and about 15 minutes later, I received a reply. I went to view the accommodations and meet the person who had posted that he needed a roommate. Fate was about to work it's magic.

Martin Aguilar was a Hispanic man (pretty cute too), and he needed a roommate. He was on hard times and so was I. Even though it was a studio apartment, it was so much better than the Single Room Occupancy hotel I had been living in, that I immediately said, "Sure, I'd be more than happy to move in with you and share the rent."

I moved in that day, Sunday July 12. Over the course of the following month, we got to know each other and before you knew what was happening, we realized that something "cosmic" was happening to us. Only later did I find out what the cosmic connection happened to be.

Unbeknownst to me, his landlord had informed him that he wanted to evict him for non-payment of rent. Even though we offered him enough money to catch up the past amount owed, he was adamant about evicting Martin. And that's what happened — we ended up being thrown out. Not only thrown out, but the police showed up one morning and said we had 15 minutes to get out. We were only able to pack enough items to last a few days, and we were out. They did let us back in to get our belongings, but needless to say, it was a very traumatic event for both of us.

By the time we were evicted, we had realized that we seemed to have a connection with each other and I told Martin that I was not going to just abandon him; we would tough it out together.

It took from August until November 2015 to succeed, but I secured us a studio apartment in the outer Mission area of San Francisco, not all that far from where I had lived in the Excelsior district.

One day, I was telling Martin about a trip I had taken to Arizona, to celebrate the wedding of Dennis's nephew to his partner, and that I had been a Healy for a weekend. When I said "Healy," Martin said: "Did you say Healy?"

"Yes, Dennis Healy was my partner and his family has always considered me to be part of their family. Why do you ask?"

"Rick," Martin said, "Healy was Dan's middle name (his partner that had passed away). Wow."

It was at that point that we realized that something was happening that we could not explain. Not only did his former partner have "Healy" as part of his name, he had passed away Christmas Eve 2009, one year before Dennis passed away Christmas Eve 2010. We both had a feeling that Dennis and Dan had gotten together "up there" and decided they needed to stir the pot to make sure Martin and I would meet, fall in love and become partners.

And that's what happened!

We just celebrated being together for two years now, and we couldn't be happier. I never even felt that I would ever meet someone new, but as they say, when you least expect it, that's when love will strike.

A scattering of ashes

This past Sunday, March 23^rd, I convened a scattering of ashes ceremony. My best friend Tom Wade, good friends Donna Blow and Nancy Muller and their son Joshua, and Dennis’s son Aragorn gathered on Twin Peaks at 11am. I had been trying to get us all together since Dennis’s birthday on February 2^nd but the weather had not been cooperating. Every time I scheduled the ceremony for a Sunday, it rained (of course, we really need the rain here in California as we are in a drought situation). Even though we all live here in San Francisco, at times you forget how many tourists this town relies on as numerous tour buses kept pouring into the parking lot, dispersing their passengers for their 15-minute look at the city from the highest point around.

We lowered ourselves over the low wall and walked down a bit to get away from all the other people. I thanked everyone for coming to honor a wonderful man who we all loved. To lighten the situation a bit, I told everyone that a scoop was needed to get the ashes out of the urn, so I scrounged around the kitchen and brought one of Dennis’s old measuring cups. It elicited a laugh from everyone as we all knew that Dennis was a wonderful cook and he would have appreciated the irony of using one of his measuring cups as a scoop. I asked Aragorn to go first, followed by Donna, Tom, Nancy, and Joshua. I went last, and right before it was my turn, my emotions started surfacing and I had tears in my eyes as I scattered his ashes.

It was a lovely ceremony, attended by those who loved him the most and knew him the longest. I know he was looking down on us as we scattered his ashes. We all love you dear and we all miss you, especially me.

 

Progress

I know it's been along time since I posted anything, so if you're a regular reader I hope you haven't been too disappointed but here I am, back with at this one article.

For the first time in the three years since Dennis passed, I came into December not knowing what it held in store for me. Much to my surprise, when I got the Christmas decorations out of their bin, I did it without breaking down in tears. It came as a somewhat revelation to me, showing me a real progress since his death.

I am now staying home for the Christmas holiday, the first time in three years as well. If you've read the blog, you know I went to Palm Springs the past two years. On Christmas Eve, I will be with my best friend, Tom Wade, his cousin Jim and Tom's friend Elizabeth. Tom told me the other day that Jim is bringing someone too, so there will be five of us. We are going out to dinner at a restaurant in the Castro area. I know I will make it through the evening, most of all because Tom and I go back over 35 years of friendship and Dennis's death hit him hard too. Dennis died at 7:45pm on Christmas Eve 2010. Since that night, when Christmas Eve rolls around, I have toasted him with whomever I was with at the time. Tom has done the same thing; this will be the first time we've been together for the toast.

Now that I can see real progress in my grieving process, I've been thinking of having a scattering of his ashes on his upcoming birthday, February 2. Turns out, it's a Sunday and not only that, but Super Bowl Sunday. What with it being Ground Hog's Day as well, seems like the perfect time to finally do this deed. I plan to ask a small group of people to attend—the usual suspects—Tom, Donna & Nancy and son Joshua, and I think I'll even contact his son to see if he wants to participate.

When does the "freshness" leave?

I suppose you're wondering what "freshness" I'm talking about, huh? I mean it's been almost two and one-half years since he died, yet I can still picture him in his recliner the night he died. And it still seems like it was just yesterday. So I ask: "when does the freshness leave?" I'm beginning to think that it never will. My inner being is still extremely depressed. I guess that's normal but I don't know what "normal" is in this type of situation. I'd like more memories to surface about other times in our life besides the night he died, but it's taking forever to get beyond that point. I'm becoming more and more convinced that "getting over it" it not an option. It will be with me the rest of my physical life. I feel like I've been trying as hard as I can to move past his death, but it's taking a lot longer than I ever figured it would. And to think that throughout our 30+ years together, I had always thought that it would be better if he died first (assuming we didn't die at the same time) because he would have struggled with maintaining a lifestyle that included everyday things like paying bills, which was my job. He didn't have a clue of how I managed the household. But I'm finding that I'm struggling more with the fact that he isn't here than any other issue. I go about with daily activities, but it doesn't seem like I'm doing anything at all that is fulfilling. Just going through the motions.

I have come to a decision the past few days though. And I've decided I'm going to retire from the pool league that I've been a member for the past 30 years, encompassing 60 seasons. I've tried the past five seasons to go on, but the fun has left the building and I just don't enjoy it any longer. I figure it's time to take a break. I need to do something different with my life but I still don't know what that will be. Stay tuned; I'll try to keep writing in this blog, even though I have not been keeping up with it as diligently as I did when I started it.

Two's company, three wasn't a crowd

WARNING: the following article contains sexually graphic language and suggestive images, so if you don't like reading such things, you'd probably better stop right here. If you do read it and leave a comment, it better not be bitter because you were warned.

Yes, your assumption is most likely correct. A couple months ago, for the first time ever, I got involved in a three-way. But before I write about that, a little back story is needed.

About ten days before the three-way, I booked Chris to come over for a massage and "extra" activity. Not only did he give a pretty good massage, the extra activity went way beyond my expectations. I felt like a human pretzel. In addition to all the positions we got ourselves into, he basically pummeled me during the entire time. Not that there's anything wrong with that...it was quite enjoyable. A few days after that encounter, Chris sent me a message to check out a different profile on the site where I had first contacted him. He was in the profile, but also another man. They were offering "tag team" fucking. Since I had never done anything like that before, I figured, "what the hell, go for it."

I picked them up at Glen Park BART and we came back to the house. Chris and Jay are two 23-year old young men who both like older guys. We went into the bedroom; I had body oil, lube and condoms out and ready. I had never had a 4-handed massage before, it was very erotic. When the massage was over, Chris said, "Are you ready for part two?"

"I sure am," I said as I rolled over onto my back. "Since I've been fucked by you before, Chris, I'd like to start with Jay if you don't mind."

"No problem there, Rick. We've done this before and we have our little signals we give each other when it's the other person's turn."

Jay was already hard and ready to go. I handed him a condom and lube, took some lube for myself as I worked my hole as I got ready for his big 8.5" dick. He put my legs over my shoulders and entered all the way to his pubes.

"Mmm, that feels good," I gasped.

He started slowly and increased the intensity with each thrust as I cried out, "Fuck me; oh that's good." After what felt like a good amount of time (it's easy to lose track of time when you're having fun like this), Chris, who had been playing with my nipples and cock, spoke up and said, "Are you ready for me, now?"

"Oh sure. Let me flip over and you can get me from that direction. Jay, why don't you take off that condom and get up here on the bed so I can suck that dick of yours while Chris is fucking me. How does that sound?"

"I'm on it, Rick."

This was a very new experience and I was enjoying myself immensely. It was actually kind of hard to believe that I was getting fucked on one end and had a big cock in my mouth on the other. Whew...

It was then Jay's time to fuck me some more, so we switched positions. He fucked me while I started in on Chris's dick. At one point, Chris said, "Teeth."

"Oops, sorry about that. I'm still trying to get used to giving a blow job and getting fucked at the same time."

All three of us laughed at that and continued on. When Jay was getting close to cumming, I said, "Why don't you both jack off onto me, one on each side playing with my nipples while I jack off. I want cum all over me."

Jay came first, followed by me and then Chris. "Wow, that was about as much fun as I've ever had while having sex," I said.

They both replied at the same time, "Glad you enjoyed it."

An Aussie tale

WARNING: sexually explicit language, which may cause you to have explicit images, are contained in this article. You've been warned, so don't complain.

I received a "hello" message in one of the "dating" sites I'm registered with. I responded with my own hello and asked him if wanted to get together. He enthusiastically responded "yes" and we traded a few messages trying to determine where we would meet, as it turned out his place of residence is only about four blocks from the office where I work. I suggested that I could go to his place after work that day. When I left the office at 5pm, I phoned him (we had traded phone numbers during our message trading) but got his voice mail. I left a message stating that it was too bad things didn't appear to be working out that day and by Friday, I figured I was dealing with another of the flakes that have come into my life while searching for a man to get acquainted with, at the very least.

The weekend went past and I didn't hear anything. Monday was a holiday and I had the day off. While watching college basketball and surfing the net at the same time, I noticed that he was on line. I shot him a quick message, stating I was disappointed that we hadn't been able to get together the previous week. He responded right back, saying he was very sorry as he had worked late that night, then he and a bunch of coworkers went to dinner. He went on to say that he wasn't a flake and should have called and hoped that we could still meet up. He also wrote, "It's probably better that we didn't get together last week, as I was so horny I would have ravaged you." Unbeknownst to him, I happen to like "ravage" so he was winning me over. He also mentioned that he had the day off. I offered to come over to his place, but he said the place "was a mess" and he'd rather come to me. I was all up for that, but during the trading of messages, I remembered that we had traded phone numbers, so I called him instead. We agreed that he'd come out and we'd take things from there.

From his location to mine should take no longer than 15-20 minutes, and after a half hour, I was beginning to wonder if he was a flake after all. But then the doorbell rang, and I knew that he wasn't. I opened the door and there stood Michael, a very good looking hunk. I'm sure my mouth must have dropped open but I may have covered it up when saying, "Michael?"

I invited him in and we retired to the living room to talk. I thought I detected an accent and asked him about it. "I'm Aussie," he replied with a big smile. We then talked about the recent 49er game, which propelled them to the Super Bowl, and we endlessly talked about tennis. Not only does he play the sport, but he's a big fan and the Australian Open was in progress. We really seemed to have great rapport with each other. After chatting for about 15 minutes, I suggested we retire to the bedroom. After all, sex was the main reason he was here, not just to talk. He agreed immediately.

We both stood up and went to each other, tenderly kissing. "This way," I said, heading toward the bedroom. "I turned the portable radiator on after talking with you on the phone, so with any luck, the room should be pretty warm by now as I don't have any real heat in the house other than my portable heaters I use."

The room was toasty, so getting naked was not going to be a shivering encounter as my house can get to be very cold. Michael is 6' 1" to my 5' 4" and he has a swimmer's build—lanky. Both cocks were already on their way to full extension as we embraced in another kiss. I gently pushed him back on the bed and attacked his fully erect cock with my mouth, noting that he was pretty good sized, though not as large as Dennis had been. He groaned with pleasure as I engulfed him. When I came up for air, I looked him in the eyes and said, "I'm hoping that you want to fuck me," breaking into a big grin.

"I'm sure I can handle that," he replied, smiling back at me.

As we explored each other, we discovered that we both like having our nipples played with, so I massaged his and watched him squirm. "If you keep doing that, you're in for quite a ride," he said.

So I kept doing it. I know what I want and like, and his cock was ready. Using his saliva instead of the lube I offered, it was a real turn on watching the saliva drop from his mouth all the way down onto his cock, and I said, "That's hot."

"Glad you like it." Before too long, he had slipped in and I was in heaven. Usually when entering, there's a small amount of pain as I get used to having a large "object" in my ass, but I was taken by surprise as he slipped in and I hardly realized he had done so. That was the first time that I can recall no pain whatsoever. He started moving in and out slowly and man did that feel great. I was beginning to realize how much I needed to get fucked, and he was giving it to me.

"I also like getting it from behind, if you want to change positions at all," I stated.

"I'm just going to keep going like this, if you don't mind. I like looking into your eyes as I fuck you," he said with another of his winning smiles.

"Fine by me. It feels great. You can pound me a bit harder too, if you'd like."

As I wrapped my legs around him and he continued, he said, "I'm getting close."

"Just before you come, could you pull out and shoot your load all over me? That would be very hot."

I started jerking my own cock, he pulled out and shot his load, hitting me in the chin with the first spurt, then another and another as my torso became covered. I continued to jerk and told him, "Put it back in while I finish."

Slipping right back in, he pumped me some more until I shot and we collapsed into each other. We then held each other as we drifted into post-fucking bliss. I grabbed a towel and wiped us both off, then continued cuddling. After about 20 minutes of just holding each other, he straddled me again and I noticed he was getting hard again.

"I better get dressed and get out of here because I'm supposed to meet some friends for dinner. If we keep going, you're going to get it again."

"That would be fine with me, but I understand."

After getting dressed, I walked him to the front door. We kissed again and agreed that we would get together again. Can't do anymore than that. And I certainly look forward to our next encounter.

December doldrums

When December first rolled around, I was quite surprised at the reaction I had. One of our "rules" we had during the course of our 30+ years together was that no holiday decorations could be put up/out until December 1 at the earliest. It was a rainy day and I had decided not to play pool for a change; I was just sitting around watching college football and basketball when I realized it was December 1st. So I decided to get out a bit of Christmas decorations to try to get into the holiday spirit, which has been lacking ever since Dennis died. As soon as I took the lid off the container in which the decorations were stored, the first thing I saw was the Santa Claus candle that he and I bought our first Christmas together. It immediately reduced me to tears. This was no "sneaking up on me" type of cry; it was immediate and it was all-encompassing—heavy, sobbing tears that remained for quite some time. I continued getting the decorations out of the container, though I was crying the entire time. These crying sessions continued throughout the entire month. Something would happen almost every day—whether it was a good or sad memory—the tears would just start flowing. I had thought I was over this crying stage but apparently I'm not. As I've stated before, grief has its own time frame and it doesn't leave until it's done with you—and apparently it's not done with me yet.

I did the smart thing by getting out of town again during the actual days of Christmas Eve (when he died) and Christmas Day. I went to Palm Springs again, though this time I stayed with my very good friends Donna and Nancy, along with their son Joshua and a couple of other people. We toasted Dennis at 7:45pm Christmas Eve, the exact time he died two years ago. It all still seems so fresh and recent to me; I'm beginning to wonder when that will change. Am I consigned to having these types of days each and every year when the holiday season approaches? I really try to have a good time, but his death has so debilitated me that I just don't seem to be able to get beyond it.

When a relationship that was so filled with love and with each other comes to an end, the person left behind really is like a lost ship at sea, drifting along with the tide and hoping it places you somewhere—anywhere—that will help you mend. While I know the mending is happening, it is taking an inordinate amount of time. All I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and continue going through life without him, no matter how difficult that chore may be.