We awoke to a lovely Saturday morning. We greeted the day in suitable River's Edge fashion, and then got up and got ready for breakfast. After a nice trip to the Berryman House for coffee, eggs, and home fries, I was ready for the day, and ready for my favorite thing at the Edge - volleyball. I was feeling a bit lazy when we got back, but M got me moving and we ended up down at the pool about 10. I staked out a place in the shade, sprayed on copious amounts of sunscreen, and snoozed a bit while it dried and I waited for things to get started.
I love seeing my friends, and I like lots of stuff about the Edge, but I have often said that if heaven is an endless day playing volleyball in the pool at the Edge I'll be a very happy man. Things went well today. My team won three out of four games. The first two we had full teams, but the second two we had to make do with less than optimal numbers. You have to have at least eight players per side for a good game, and for the second two games we only had six each. We did have some players join late in the fourth game though. M got in and played a bit, which was nice. He's a bit short to play on the deep end, but since we were on the shallow end he was good to go.
M spent most of the day reclining decoratively by the pool and working on is tan, reading or snoozing. That's kind of what a lot of folks to there. Between the drinking and sex on Friday and Saturday night some just want to rest. We broke for lunch around 2, and went back to the cabin for sandwiches about the time Mike and Al were getting moving. Apparently they had had quite a night the night before - they were still sitting up when I got up to pee early in the morning. Most of the regulars were down there playing, but we were missing Mark, one of the guys who kind of gets people going. Still, it was a good day. M had some time to visit with Glen and Stanley as well.
I met Glen today, M's ex. Glen was very good to M when they were together, and M still calls him Daddy, because he tells me that Glen was better to him than his own father in many ways. M had kind of prepared me for him, but it was still an interesting meeting. Glen was there with Stanley, his younger boyfriend. Stanley is pretty enough to look like a Joe Boy Phillips drawing. They didn't have much to say at the pool, but I was pretty busy and distracted anyway.
After volleyball, we had that lazy time at the pool. The sun isn't down yet, but volleyball is over. People really don't want to end the pool day, but don't want to play anymore. You just laze around in the water, talking and visiting and stuff. But soon enough, it was time to head back.
We cleaned up and got dressed for dinner, talked to Al and Mike & Co for a few minutes, and then it was time to go. Glen drove us to the Berryman in his Lexus. M kept the conversation going about Stanley's CD he is working on. He's a singer. We listened to part of it on the way. I didn't feel as if I had much in common with Glen and Stanley. I'm not really a clothes horse any more, and it was pretty obvious that they had taken a good amount of care with product, matching shirts, and I'll say an aggressively meterosexual look that I frankly thought was a bit much for the Berryman. On the one hand, the Edge keeps the little town flush, and the merchants know it. They welcome us and our wallets. I really feel we should be accepted anywhere, no matter what we're wearing. I think we should be free to express ourselves as we see fit - including in our appearance. On the other hand, this is a small town, and I'm from one. I'm old enough now that "shocking the locals" has stopped being amusing and started seeming rude to me. The folks at the Berryman are used to folks coming in from the Edge in a variety of ensemble though, and few brows were raised. I did feel like the odd one out. I hadn't really thought about going to dinner when I packed, and I usually don't take a lot of clothes down to the Edge. I had gotten ketchup on my khaki shorts I wore down to breakfast. Of course all of M's clothes look stunning on him and fit him beautifully. In short, they were all dressed, and I looked like I was wearing exactly what I was - something comfy that I just brought to cover up with when I needed to.
Once we got to the restaurant, though, and started talking, the ice was broken and things relaxed a bit. I felt like I did pretty well, although I probably talked too much, as I do sometimes when I'm nervous. I know that Glen is important to M, and I wanted to make a good impression. At first I felt like I was fighting a bit of an uphill battle; but eventually I thought he warmed up and liked me well enough, although it did seem that he, like most people, was still wondering what in the hell M is doing with me. We've talked about that reaction, and I've decided it doesn't matter. If M is happy with me, that's what is important to me, and I really shouldn't have to justify our being together to other people. But I know that Glen is important to M, so I was glad that things went OK. Glen was a nice guy.
When we got back to the camp ground, we caught up with Al, Mike, Brian and Scott as they were cooking dinner. I was kind of wiped after my day at the pool, so M and I decided to go lie down for a while; but it turned into a "nap", instead of a nap. It was really, really nice. We really enjoyed each other. But it wasn't a lot of rest for me LOL. Afterwards it was time to get dressed and head for tonight's party. There were actually two parties and a happy hour tonight, but by the time we got up and ready the real parties had started. There was a big one going on in the Fishbowl, so that's where we headed, along with Al, Mike, and Scott. Al and Mike play around with some BDSM roleplay, and Mike had handcuffed Al's wrist to his junk, which was actually pretty funny.
Walking over to the party was really cool. I'm always amazed at the trouble the guys go through (to say nothing of the expense) to snazz up their spots when they get a permanent site. Landscaping, perfectly little manicured postage stamp lawns, furnished decks, statuary, and water features are all pretty much standard for the regulars. But the bar is always being raised. Tonight for the party, the outdoor lighting had been increased significantly, there was a professional sound system set up that many professional DJ's would envy (I found out later the host had actually hired a DJ). There was a smoke machine, a disco ball, and numerous glow sticks being handed out as party favors. Of course there was an open bar and refreshments as well. And lots and lots of guys. It was the modern equivalent of coming across a fairy party in the middle of the woods, which of course it kind of was. When you got up to it, the comparison was more to that of a Bacchian revel. But even as just a display it was still pretty impressive.
The big Saturday night parties at the Edge have just never been my thing. The people that are going to be drunk there were already drunk last night, so there's not a lot of novelty - you've kind of seen it already. I prefer to find a smaller group of people to sit and talk with, and usually that isn't an option at those big parties.
When we got to the party I just kind of felt at loose ends. You couldn't really talk because the music was so loud. I didn't really feel like getting drunk. The other reason you go to those parties is for a) voyeurism when things get wild; or b) to hook up. Well I was there with the hottest guy there, and we weren't playing with others, so we weren't there shopping for a toy. And since we'd already had sex, voyeurism frankly had limited appeal.
M had brought a couple of fancy outfits for the party. The attention level on him thus far had not been as bad as I feared. He knows more of the regulars better than I do, and they are kind of used to seeing him now. There was one persistent admirer down at the pool that the RE management finally had a word with, however. I had checked in with M at one point, but the situation became more annoying after I checked in. M ended up wearing a modified neoprene wrestler's singlet tonight that perfectly packaged his already perfect ass and really drew more attention than if he had just been naked. I ended up having to say something to two guys who just wouldn't take a hint and kept grabbing him and stuff. He fended off the attentions of another would-be swain himself. Of course going to a party with a bunch of drunk guys like that was kind of throwing red meat at the lions, and then telling them they couldn't have any.
I'm really at a loss of how I handle this or exactly what my feelings are about it. M told me that he wore that outfit only for me. Which was partially true, and then partially not true. M likes to be looked at. It's a small enough thing, and very common in the gay community. When I was younger, I enjoyed being looked at myself, and wore things to draw attention; and of course everyone loves to be admired and found attractive. I certainly love the way M looks - he's beautiful. But being with him on display like that kind of makes me feel like an ass. It underscores the disparity in our looks. It draws exactly the kind of attention that he doesn't seem to enjoy. On the one hand, it's his body. I have always despised the kind of guy who dictates what his S.O. should wear. M works hard on his body. He has a body that is built to be looked at. If he wants to show it off, that is his right. I'm certainly not going to suggest that he wear a burkah or something. But on the other hand, I would have been more comfortable if we had stood out just a bit less.
We stood around for a while, and yelled in people's ears that we knew. We had a couple of beers. Glen and Stanley arrived and we made a bit of party chat with them. They were wearing teeny-tiny cute shorts that left little to the imagination and showcased their perfectly flat abs. Standing there with them and M, I felt kind of like a mule that had been mistakenly harnessed up with the thoroughbreds. We had lost Al, Mike, and Scott, but Brian had showed up. It was a nice enough evening. But I was pretty tired. When M got a chill and told me he was ready for bed, I wasn't sorry to head that way. It's always kind of sad, because you know when you go to bed on Saturday night the RE weekend is pretty much over; but by that point I've usually indulged in everything to the point where a more staid existence starts to look attractive again.
I bedded down with the sweetest boy in the world, kissed him goodnight, and went to sleep with him cuddled up against me - king of the world again.
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