One Way to Spend Xmas

“Xmas isn’t the same,” said George. “But I guess it isn’t ever the same when you grow up.”

“It is so true, it doesn’t matter what life has thrown at you.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh sorry… I didn’t think.”

“No, you are right, we’ve adults now and we need to be adults.”

“I just…”

“No, it is okay.”

I smiled. George smiled.

“I’ve got more pills,” said George. “Do you want to take them?”

“Sure.”

“It’s Xmas,” said George. “And we should celebrate.”

So, George and I took more e’s. 

We got pillows and doonas. We were luscious. We dribbled all over each other, with words of love and friendship. George rambled on a lot, like I find a lot of Greek boys do. So often, he had verbal diarrhoea, with shiny bright eyes. Sexy, unselfconscious.

We ate fruit, we drank Up & Go.

We choofed, boy did we choof. So much for no smoking in the house, even if we mostly smoked in my courtyard.

We hung together all through Xmas.

I rang the family to say I wouldn’t be there for Xmas day. I had already warned Amanda that I probably wouldn’t make it, party old mates, blah, blah, thinking the whole time that I would make it. You know, promise the least and deliver much more.

Sophie called to see where George was. He spoke to her so gently, she clearly spoke to him the same way.

George is a lovely boy. Handsome, interesting. Fit and healthy, ripped. Strong. I love how unfiltered he is. 

I loved our feeling of togetherness. He and I against the world.

He’s not hard to look at either, hairy chest, hairy stomach, hairy legs. 

I loved his big, plump lips,

the thickness of his flesh, of him, he’s solid

his gorgeous thick, black hair.