QColumn: A Gay In The Life: The Upper Hand

NOTE: If you haven’t already, read part one of this column, The Best.
The Upper Hand
By Steve Prince
Sunday, Day One, 11:45p.m.
Dear Diary,
I can totally do this…right? I mean I’ve done this plenty of times. Well, it’s been a while.
Ugh. Why did I let Alex talk me into this? I mean, he’s the one who thought he had a problem watching too much porn. How come I bet him that I wouldn’t jack off to porn for a whole week? How’s this fair for me?
I pulled my Macbook onto my lap to check my email. I then began my normal computer routine: email, CNN, porn, Facebook. Wait! No porn. Dammit. It’s OK. This was only the first day. In fact, I was still a little sore from the night before. After talking to Alex this morning, I learned we both had tried to get porn out of our system last night.
I could do this, and so could Alex. I mean it wasn’t like I couldn’t jack off–just not to outside stimuli. No problem.
Successfully yours,
Steve
Monday, Day Two, 12:32 a.m.
Dear Diary,
Today was one of the longest days of my life. Not only was I late to work this morning, but I also completely forgot that I had a paper due for my night class tonight. Thank God the instructor is gay. I totally flirted shamelessly and batted my eyes—he gave me another week.
I love Professor Rudd; he’s very understanding. He was actually late to class today because he wasn’t feeling too well, hence, I think he chalked my mistake up to something in the air. Usually Professor Rudd dresses in a suit and tie, because he comes from his job at Loyola. However, today he dressed in casual clothes.
He wore a short sleeve shirt and I never realized how tan he is. He has that skin that normally is fair olive but he said he recently took a vacation with his partner, thus giving him a sun-kissed glow. I didn’t realize how buff he was. I mean in class, I have always noticed his perfect V-shaped torso, and I’ve noticed how his tie always lays right at his belt, as if pointing to his package. Still, as he talked, and moved his arms, I couldn’t help but notice his biceps and triceps dancing back and forth with one another—hypnotizing. Ah, Diary, Professor Rudd is nice to look at, I’ll admit.
He’s the perfect age too. I guess he’s thirty-eight. I love the clever asides he quips in class. My friend told me that he used to be a dancer when he was younger. It was hard to imagine his body being so graceful. As he stood in front of the class, his movements seemed so forceful and masculine. Ah Diary, Professor Rudd is a good teacher.

Everyone in the class says that I’m teacher’s pet—which is ridiculous. So what if I scanned an article and e-mailed it to the entire class on my own time? I mean, Professor Rudd’s scanner broke and he needed help. What was I supposed to do? Let the class fail? They should be grateful to have me in class. I know Professor Rudd is. It was nice to have his appreciation, especially when he patted me on the back and told me thanks.
Ah Diary, I want to sit on Professor Rudd’s face and 69 him while he fingerbangs me in the back of his car during a drive-in movie. I guess this means… I like him?
On another note, I’m doing great with the bet. I don’t need porn or any outside stimuli to get turned on. In fact, I don’t seem to be horny at all.
Trying not to notice the huge erection I have as I write this—
Steve
Tuesday, Day Three, 11:00p.m.
Dear Diary,
Okay, let’s be honest—I totally beat it while thinking of Professor Rudd. I called Alex, thinking that I had cheated but he said that fantasy was OK.
“Whatever’s in your head is okay,” he said.
“So, I can think of porn that’s in my head?” I asked, hopeful.
“Well,” Alex paused. “I think it’s better to only think of people we know.”
Ugh, all right. Silly lawyers and all their rules.
On the flip side, today was another no porn day, but I really wanted to go to Queerclick though. My editor emailed me and told me that the QCX site was up. You know I love a good fetish. Still, I abstained.
I did however eat a whole plate of onion rings. Don’t judge me, Diary! I can’t give up everything in one week! In fact, I’m going to have an Oreo and NOT WATCH PORN and then go to bed.
Renewed for the challenge,
Steve
Wednesday, Day Four, 12:02a.m.
Dear Diary,
Another no porn day! I’m doing great. I didn’t even really think about sex. I mean, it did help that Wednesday is my busiest day of the week. I’ve been out of the house since 7am and didn’t get back until 10pm.
I called Alex to check in. He reported no instances of porn, but did say he had a close call with an odd-shaped banana. I don’t know what this meant. I think Alex might have a fruit fetish or something; I’m afraid to ask.
I’m totally going to do this with no problem.
Feeling great,
Steve
Thursday, Day Five, 10:32p.m.
Dear Diary,
Someone in the universe hates me! I know it.
Home Depot has put me into a state. See the Home Depot’s located at Sunset and Wilton, and it’s the closest store from West Hollywood, hence gay home improvement enthusiasts abound. We call it “the Homo Depot,” and it usually makes me hornier than rhino, but luckily I wasn’t seeing anyone cute. And then I saw him.
Behind the paint station stood a man… a gorgeous Latin man. He looked about six foot tall, jet black hair cropped short and brushed back, a face chiseled from marble—ike one of the studly actors fromDesperate Housewives. After I pulled my mouth back up, I crept forward to eavesdrop. He spoke with a slight accent. I watched as his customer, a petite blonde woman, said “Thank you” and walked away, smiling of course.
“Can I help you?” he asked. He startled me. I hadn’t noticed that I had kept walking towards the counter. He smiled. His teeth were perfect, and they seemed even whiter against the dark stubble on his chin. His dimples seemed to quiver in his cheeks.
“Uh…” I muttered, “paint stick?”
Really?!! All I could think of was paint stick?!? Carlos smiled and pointed to my left. Glad to avert my attention, I flung myself to the box filled with wooden paint sticks. I ducked behind another aisle and made my way far away from Carlos. Hmm… well, Alex said it had to be someone I knew, right? So theoretically, I knew him. Suddenly I began to imagine myself while Carlos slathered me with paint.
I HAD TO GET OUT OF THERE! I left Homo Depot without buying anything. I came home and I reeeeeeally wanted to look at porn&mdashbut I didn’t. Ugh. I hated Alex for making me do this.
Hornier than a priest at a choir boy convention,
Steve
Friday, Day Six, 12:30a.m.
I actually thought today was going to be hard, but it wasn’t. I really wanted to beat it to the memory of Carlos from Homo Depot. I tried actually, but then my mind kept wondering to Marius from Latin Jocks and that was against the rules. So I stopped and I gave myself blue balls. I hate this mother-fuckin’ bed. I’m going to bed.
Balls still hurting,
Steve
Saturday, Day Seven, 11:45p.m.
Alex and I had a wonderful dinner tonight and…
drum roll please…
We both bought one another’s dinner. We both did it!
The waiter put a grilled chicken and vegetables in front of Alex, while I looked at my ravioli.
“So, how hard was this for you?” he asked.
I swallowed my food. “You know,” I said. “I really didn’t realize how much I watched porn before.”
It was true, I didn’t. Whereas some people go to CNN, Dlisted, or GoFugYourself to kill time, I would peruse porn. Porn’s not a bad thing, but I wonder how often I look at porn because of the fear of looking at myself as a sexual being. It gave me something to think about. Will I give up porn? Hell, no. But I think this experience has taught me that maybe I don’t give myself enough credit where credit is due; I don’t always need a computer screen to get turned on.
After I got home from dinner with Alex, I masturbated without watching porn. It was probably the first time I had done that in four years—just me in my bed, alone in my dark bedroom. In that moment, I faced myself and I found that I was much more sexually creative than I thought. Unexpectedly, I didn’t fantasize about ripped hairless studs going at it like donkeys. I just felt of my own body, paying attention to its good sensations. A power seemed to grip and infuse me; a love for myself deeper than any man could ever give. When I did finally orgasm, I shuddered more powerfully than I had in years; the energy was so intense. After going to the bathroom, I came back to my room, put on my PJs, slipped back into my warm bed, and fell quickly into a dreamless sleep, contented and happy.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best