Reminiscent

When I was a kid we used to visit my grandfather's sister and her husband a few times every summer. They lived about 20 miles away in what had been my grandpa's family home. I think my grand aunt was the loudest person I'd ever met as a child; she must have been hard of hearing now that I think about it, because she screamed everything that came out of her mouth. She made the best damned cake and coffee this side of heaven. I loved those trips to her house along with grandpa and grandma, my mom and dad, and my little sister. The ladies spent most of their time yelling in the kitchen. Us men stayed in the living room watching whatever black and white baseball game happened to be on TV though I couldn't see a hell of a lot of it through the bluish haze of the omnipresent cigar smoke. I saw my first nudie picture hanging on the wall over my grand uncle's workbench. The toilet was way down in the basement in a little room that wasn't the sort where you'd read at leisure after you'd finished your business. I loved that house! I rode past it last week, making the 20 mile drive specifically just to see it because I knew that seeing it would bring back some wonderful memories that I kind of needed to touch again.

Ironically, that same hamlet where my grand uncle and aunt lived was home to a few firsts in sharing Dee and exploring my own sexuality, so after I visited that magical house of my childhood I drove past each of those other places remembering some other great memories though not of the childhood variety.

There's the parking lot where Don first touched Dee's breasts and where I made her kiss his cock before I'd drive them to the motel which they'd suggested I take them to. That was the night when Dee became a shared wife as Don became her first extramarital lover...

There's another parking lot where I watched Dee suck Don in his van and fuck him there on another occasion...

And there's the motel where I gave my first suck and swallow blow job in the room behind the second orange door from the left in this picture...

In spite of the majestic craziness of the past five years on which I focus here most days, deep inside, much of me is still that same little boy who loved visiting his relatives and doing too all of the other things that made his childhood memorable. I've hung onto being that little boy for much of my adult life but things are happening that are going to force me to grow up. I'm scared even to think about it so while I can I'm going to cling to the things that can give me warm, fuzzy recollections of a simpler, easier time. Like driving past a house and wanting to hug each of its ghosts for giving me times worth remembering. And I'm going to keep on being crazy - doing things I'd not have dreamed of doing even ten years ago, because life's too short.

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