Funny, how the first thing that came to my mind when I saw his pictures online was you. It may be the shape of the eyes, the facial hair, the cock. I don't know. All I know is that suddenly, I thought of you.
It was good, though. A jolt through the system. A recalling of the senses. The always familiar rush of blood to the lower body. I'm still alive, I guess, not as dead as I usually think I am.
Still, the call of the flesh, with all its carnality erases reality.
Funny, ain't it? How we can romanticize the most pedestrian of experiences?
Note: someone asked me if this post was real and if If I had talked to you after this. I told them that even though you are not a figment of my imagination and you do exist in all your youthful glory, I have no idea if you even ever read this. I told them I did taste your skin and enjoyed your hardness but that it was so fleeting that it's just a memory that lives in these pictures once in a while. I guess you'll always be the Ben of two years ago, because the you of today I don't even know.