the beautiful south

On a night out with some people, i found myself chatting to this guy who kept telling me how the place was full of really hot babes. After talking about how hot i find maleness, i unexpectedly found myself knee-deep stuck right in the middle of it. My interlocutor kept pointing me in the direction of this or that hot chick as i kept wondering at what point i should mention that i wasn't exactly his target audience for this. Eventually i did. I didn't, though, to the other straight guy who elected to bond with me with a charming "i wish the fat chick would put her breasts away" and laughed as if he'd said the funniest thing ever. He was drunk.

I guess i'm more used to spending time with people who know i'm gay so i'm generally spared this kind of insight into straightness. But in the midst of a lot of people i didn't know, the good old rule applied: you're straight until proven guilty.

But out of my own environment, lost south of the river, my mind kept drifting back to L. It happens every time i'm in south London. This being his side of town, and him being a little on the lazy side, we would always meet here back in the days when we were getting to know each other. If there had ever been something proper between us, it would have made sense, upon separating, to split something we might have previously shared. The way things stand, we never really shared anything so leaving him the whole south side of the city strikes me as overkill.

Yet it's his. All of it is his playground. I can't set foot there without feeling that i'm on his turf. It's ok, i don't really hang around south london that much so this melancholic nostalgia hits me quite rarely. Every time i go back it feels so far and inconvenient to get to but on the plus side it definitely has an unmistakable taste of him. On my way home on the tube, with the music pumping loud in my iPod in order to block out all the friday night noise around me, as the train takes me back to a much more familiar part of town i feel L draining out of me as though my veins were emptying and my mental capacity starts to return. As my surroundings are familiar again i wonder if i still think maleness is so hot. The answer is yes.

love me like a lesbian

The close association of lesbianism and feminism, coupled with the fact that women are generally perceived as not desiring in the same agressive, self-centred way of the male gender, means that they could easily get away with a comment such as 'great tits' without it being perceived as offensive or objectifying in any way. The reason for this is not only that lesbians are already in the same camp as the object of their desire, therefore being perceived as less of an oppressor than the traditionally more mistrusted male suitor, but also that they are champions of an approach to appreciating the female form that is very different from the way men like to go about it. A woman will often be less concerned with the ideal of feminine beauty favoured by the media, preferring instead what can be defined as a more "spontaneous" female form, choosing what's womanly over what's clinically feminine, loving the woman as a a whole, a reality, rather than a concept or the sum of it's allegedly sexy parts.

Regular reader, you might be surprised to hear me talk about women. Dispair not, i have a point. The way women love women for what they are, as opposed to what they could or should be, made me think of the way that i, as a submissive, can love a man as opposed to the way a woman would.

When i say i'm attracted to men, i'm not simply talking about a man's physical attributes. I like the way a man thinks, acts, moves, walks, laughs. Everything that makes a man a man, is attractive to me, right down to the plain stereotypical. What's male is hot, in fact i fetishise those things that guys are generally given a hard time about. Yobbism, loudmouthed comments, slacking, drinking... all good. Even public urination. Alright, particularly public urination. Guys who want to quickly get off without reciprocating? Hot. A man who wants his cock to be taken care of while he sits comfortably on a sofa watching tv? Hot. Guys sitting at a bar, drinking and checking out girls? Hot. These kind of male traits are constantly being sneered at and ridiculed as being immature but boys will be boys, and boys they will be often in the way that it comes natural to them, rather than the way women fantasise that they should.

My point? Why on earth are genders attracted to each other??

booked

It's hard to define the borders between fantasy and reality when you deal in dreams and fantasies. I've talked to Mr Glasgow again and he's still the man that gets me the most. Maybe it's just because i've committed my soul to him that i can't seem to want to properly submit to anybody else.

I've been seeing someone recently, but it's very casual. There's no pretense that i'm his, that he owns me, etc. He has a very dominant personality, you put me and him in the same room and there's only one thing that could possibly happen. And that's what happens. But if he asked me to commit to him exclusively, i couldn't do it. Not that i see anybody else - although i must admit i've been trying to arrange a drink with somebody for several weeks now...

If i had to find a way to describe it, i'd say i'm his bitch. Well, i would be under the premise of our involvement being any more than purely casual. I do his bidding, i'm around to take care of what he wants taken care of, but i don't consider myself his slave at all, even though i allow myself to be overpowered by his dominance and manliness.

But my slave heart is in Glasgow and that's where it will remain, it seems. There's nothing to be done. Glasgow is the only man who gets my full unconditional attention. I don't seem to be able to get unhooked. He's the only one who makes me smile and cry. One nice word from him is everything and can fill me with joy, the same way that any inattention from him makes me feel hurt the way only he can.

Carrot and stick. Both are available in large amounts. What's missing completely is any opportunity to be face to face, to explore our dynamics and be who we are together in the same room. That's annoying when you think of it and when do i think of it? Every time he talks to me and he makes me wish i was hundreds of miles up north...

mal baisé

In the past, i think some doms have been impressed by my readiness to be walked all over purely on the basis of the fact that i was a submissive talking to a "superior". And i wasn't playing out a role even, i guess i was just the sort of guy who steps to one side to let someone bigger, or louder, walk past. These days things are a little different. Again, it's not as if i'm making a conscious effort in this respect but as my submissive self is experiencing a crisis of faith, i've started taking people's self-proclaimed dominance with a pinch of salt and i don't assume anyone is a true dom until i'm face to face with them and i can feel it on my skin. The other day i even went as far as giving someone a hard time over cancelling an appointment with me. It's not that people aren't allowed to cancel, but i don't like to be taken for granted. Not unless someone owns me. A man doesn't need to disrespect you in order to assert his dominance, and if i take it seriously when i arrange to meet someone, keep the evening free, tell my friends i'm busy, etc, i would expect the person i'm meeting to show me a similar standard of courtesy.

I sort of miss this feeling of humility, of feeling small. i stand by what i've written but re-reading it i can hear some readers think: you so need to be put back in your place and it's probably true...