And Marek makes three

Originally published on June 6, 2007.

I’d like to write that everything is comfy and cosy and rosy, but there have been several passive/aggressive episodes over the last few days, the blame for which we should both take responsibility.

I’ll describe a particularly funny and sad performance by the two of us someday if I have the guts, but suffice it to say that he’s still testing me, threatening to leave almost every day. I’m used to it all, but the worst part has been the tinge of contempt that has crept into his phony insults: It smells like internalized homophobia.

He has stopped calling me skin and instead refers to me as kundo, the Slovak word for cunt. Of course, there are all sorts of ways to use “bad” words when addressing someone, and they are often affectionate and not meant seriously. But Marek clearly wants to provoke me.

He was lying in bed last night, as he had been all fucking day, and began a long stream of insulting variations on the word, laughing the whole time. I chose to ignore it and him until he addressed me in a normal manner. It took about five minutes, but it felt like thirty.

He’s also frustrated whenever we go out and there are only English speakers. He doesn’t like any of the places I like to go, particularly Rudolfa. His sleeping habits are erratic whereas mine are much more regimented. OK, I don’t mind being woken at 5 in the morning by Marek jumping on top of me and wanting to fuck, but it also means I’m not awake in time for the cheap internet.

He takes his time, you see, and usually wants to come twice. All of these differences add up, and he’s expressing his frustration inappropriately. It’s to be expected, I guess, given his background. I told him the other night in bed that we got along better when we were sleeping in the park. He laughed and suggested we go out and buy a tent.As we were leaving the flat yesterday to meet up with friends (after a squabble over his refusal to accompany me), he said in Slovak, “Sometimes I don’t know why you and I are together.”

So, in some, perhaps most, ways, things aren’t going well. The majority of the animosity stems from a wrestling match, or two, in which I soundly trounced him, albeit not without considerable effort. After all, I’m bigger than him, and he has no idea how to wrestle.

He then shut down completely, lying face down on the bed with his eyes closed. I’m guessing he was humiliated. Despite accepting my head rubs and caresses and smiling, with his eyes still closed, when I called him milačku (a Czech endearment meaning literally, my love), he wouldn’t get up for a couple hours, not even when Steve stopped by.

I’ve suspected that his enjoyment of fucking me is a way of displacing his own self-hatred for what he’s doing and enjoying, not just a power trip (believe me, he makes that aspect clear). The contradictions were all there one night when he described our sex to Arssi, grinning and bragging about how he met this girl named Rick and fucked her in every position he wanted, and how much she liked it.

“Very nice kunda, oh yes,” he said, miming grabbing my hips and going at it. He looked at me lewdly as he told the story, and he told it humorously, although Arssi didn’t seem to think it was funny, probably because the disrespect was obvious even to him.

And yet he can go all puppy-like and seduce me sweetly at 4 a.m., begging for a blow job or a fuck. “Please, Rick, please Rick,” he begs, wrapping himself around me, rubbing my tummy and biting my neck. I initially say, no, I’m too tired. He once got out of bed and pulled down his undies, grinning and showing me his hard-on.

Ty ne chseš?” You don’t want this? he asked.

I’d already sucked him off that night before going to bed and said so. He just jumped on top of me and began rutting against my crotch and hip bone, grinding into me furiously and violently. He grabbed my hands and guided them to his butt. I might not have mentioned it before, but he’s got a pefectly-formed, tight muscular ass. Feeling it clench as he’s fucking me usually makes me come. He knows that. So that’s all it took; I gave in.

Oh, and then there was the 3-way he suggested the other night and would not be dissuaded from, despite the fact I didn’t want it and told him so repeatedly. He wanted to fuck me while I sucked the other boy. I told him I wasn’t comfortable with it.

Proč stydlivý?” Why are you shy?

I didn’t know how to tell him that giving my ass to someone was actually a big deal for me and I didn’t reveal that sort of passionate abandonment to just any body. Plus, I wasn’t attracted to the other boy in the first place. But Marek insisted and begged. I agreed, but only if no fucking was involved.

We pulled it off, thanks to Marek’s specific instructions, but, as often happens in these situations, I paid more attention to one than the other. The other boy ended up frustrated and left to masturbate in the toilet while I continued to suck Marek for what seemed like 45 minutes.

The boy and Marek did nothing together, but not because of Marek, who kept looking over expectantly at the other boy. The other boy was willing to kiss and jack me off — in fact, while I was sucking on Marek”s brown dick, I had a great, shuddering orgasm — but he was not willing to even look at Marek. Overall, it was a fun experience for me, if a bit weird and unexpected for the other two.

I was unsure whether or not this was another test at the time. Based on his subsequent reactions, I’d say it wasn’t. It was more of a test for himself. He got hard right away and remained kind and engaged the entire time, despite his complaint that I had too much spit in my kisses. Whatever. Unlike Pavel, his kisses are too dry.

Since the three-way, he’s been distant but not evil. I attribute it to him being inside himself, figuring things out rather than resenting me for accepting the challenge of allowing another boy into our sex life. He admitted to me the other day that he was bisexual, recounting some experiences with a friend from his orphanage on a deserted soccer field, but that he had never felt the need to tell anyone about it.

Maybe he sees it now.

Or maybe that was a bullshit-story too, winding me up.

The third boy in this three-way was Arssi, who had asked me to keep his identity out of the blog, at least for this episode.

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