I decided to take a dump before I walked through the security checkpoint. They announced bording for my flight while I was still sitting on the pot. I walked out of the men's room, through security, and directly onto the plane.

I had specifically asked for an aisle seat when I'd bought these tickes several weeks prior. Somehow I got stuck in a middle seat. Some dizzy chick in a tie-dye came along, and I got up to let her into the window seat. Knowing I would now not have to get up for anyone else I put my seatbelt on and settled in. But in a few minutes she realized she was in the wrong seat and made me get up again.

Someone came along and sat in the aisle seat (bastard!), but the window seat was still empty when the flight attendants were getting things battened down. I was just about to slide over when I saw some young black woman board the plane. I waited in anticipation as she inched her way down the aisle, looking at the number in each and every row as if they were arranged in random order. I don't know why I even bothered to wonder if she was headed for my window seat. Although there were a number of empty seats throughout the plane, I knew full well she was headed for the one next to me. Sure enough...

When I got up to let her in I took the opportunity to remove my coat. Once I was buckled in I got out the latest issue of XY. Even though they totally ignored me, I still liked to read their magazine.

The flight to Pittsburgh was typically short. Rather than hurry to get off the plane I just sat there and let other people fight to get off. When I finally did decide to get up, the old couple across from me got up at the exact same time. Actually they got up about a half-second before me. I was stuck behind them as they feebly attempted to get their stuff out of the overhead. I walked patiently behind them as they limped up the aisle.

I had another long layover as I did the first time. I went directly back to the Speedo™ store. This time the attendants didn't bother me the moment I walked in the door. Actually there was only one person on duty, she was an older lady, and she was busy helping an older guy buy something for his daughter. She was a kick-boxer and was always wearing tight, lycra shorts. I browsed around and found another shirt that looked nice. It wasn't as nice as the one I bought the first time, but it was still something I'd consider wearing. But I knew I had to try it on. I waited for the lady, but she was still helping the many with his chronic indecision. When I finally got her attention I took a couple shirts into the room and tried them on. They were really baggy. Even the small one was hanging off my shoulders. I brought them back out and asked the lady, but she said that this shirt was designed to be loose. So much for that. I didn't really want to foot the bill for the inflated price tag anyway.

I decided to go to the gym again. I checked in and the guy gave me a towel. Once in the locker room I realized that I needed shorts too. I went back out and got them. All the guy had was these silky running shorts that were split up the sides to the waist band. I went back in the locker room, and as I was dressing I decided that I probably shouldn't get my t-shirt all sweaty and smelly right before getting on a 4-hour flight. I went back out bare-chested and the guy gave me a string tank.

I got on the treadmill. I decided that I would run for a very, very long time. But as soon as I started my dick started bouncing around and rubbing against the inside of the running shorts. I didn't have on a jock strap or any underwear. The shorts had panties built right in, so that wasn't a problem. I could also handle the fact that I was bouncing all over the place. I wouldn't mind getting a chubby at the time. There were two other guys on the bikes who both looked like queens to me. The problem was that my knob was totally rubbing against the silk material. At first it tickled, but very quickly it became a major irritation. I stopped and tried to re-adjust myself, but it was no good whatsoever. I tried to ignore it and just keep running, but it was becoming painful. No, the treadmill was out.

I spent a little time on a rowing machine. I did a pretty good upper-body dumbell workout. There was a mirror back by where the dumbells were. You couldn't see it from up front where the exercise machines were. I wanted to tweak my nipples and get a little chubby going, but some woman and her toddler son were sitting on a bench in the concourse that looked directly in to where I was. Why they were sitting in this obscure quadrant of the terminal I had no idea. But I wasn't about to start touching myself with a young boy in the vacinity. After pumping my muscles up a little I tried some of the new-fangled weight machines they had. One was an elaborate contraption designed to work the abs and obliques. I got in the thing and tried to figure out how it worked. I did some reps, but it was horrible. I would have been better off on a mat on the floor.

I spent some time on one of the bikes, but soon I'd had enough. I went back in the locker room and stripped. After glancing at my naked body in the mirror I walked into the shower area. On my left was the sauna that I'd completely forgotten about. That would be a good place to kill some time. But as I reached for the door I saw that there was someone else already in there. It was one of the queens on the exercise bikes. He was totally covered by his towel. I knew I'd get wood the second I lay down in that heat, and decided not to get into it. I just went into the shower. I saw a small shave kit lying on the floor outside one of the stalls.

I got about a 70% boner as I lathered up. After a while I rinsed off and dried myself. If the guy was out of the sauna I would have gone back in. But was still in there. By now he was sitting up and had his towel barely covering his groin. I'm sure I could have gone in, let a boner fly, and gotten a nice voyex thing going, but I still wasn't really in the mood.

I went back out to the locker room still with a big fat semi. Some guy walked in as I was drying my ears. My towel covered my fat dick pretty well. I wasn't getting any vibes off this guy at all. I think he was an employee of the gym. So I just threw on my Hanes™. Still, my dick was taking up a lot of real estate in there. I lingered a bit as I procrastinated on putting the rest of my clothes back on. Some business dude came in and asked the employee guy if he'd seen a shaving kit.

"Yeah," I said. "It's right in the shower area."

The guy thanked me, and I distinctly saw his eyes dart down to my dick which was laying to the side and visibly almost reaching my hip bone. The guy went in and fetched his item. When he came back out he chatted with the employee kid for a while as he kept glancing back to my package. After a while he left.

I continued dressing. When I put on my shoes I had to sit on the floor because the employee kid had his stuff strewn across the entire bench. Once outside the gym I headed for the main terminal. Whom do I see but the business dude. I avoided eye contact as I got on the escalator. Low and behold, he got on a few steps behind me. I walked down Consourse A, but apparently he didn't follow.

I dodged into TGIFridays and had a couple of pints waiting for my plane to start bording. I still had a bit of a wait, even with the time I killed in the gym, but before long it was time.

Once on board I quickly realized that I'd gotten stuck in a middle seat again. I was pretty annoyed. Some old dude was sitting on the aisle. I decided to make the best of it and sat there as stoically as I could, reading my XY magazine. Before we took off I got up and took a leak. The pints I'd had at the bar were already catching up with me.

The plane took off and I settled in for the long flight. When they came around with the drink cart I ordered my customary rum and coke. I figured that I wouldn't be having too many of them, because I didn't want to have to keep bothering the old dude to get up and go to the bathroom multiple times during the flight. I started to get more pissed that my request for an aisle seat had not been honored.

The movie was "Wild Wild West" with Will Smith. I would never have paid to see this movie. Not in a million years. But I was curious about it none the less. I was not a fan of the original TV series, but I was familiar with it. My next door neighbor watched it all the time. I had a tendency to hate the things he liked. The whole thing about government spies in the old west struck me as nonsequitir, especially with all the James Bond toys they used. I've never cared for Robert Conrad, but I thought the casting of Will Smith in the movie was a particularly odd choice. Blacks were not exactly well respected in the old west. Granted that's a pretty ugly part of our nation's past, but it's true. Putting Will Smith in the role was either PC revisionism, or a ploy to increase box office sales, or both.

I was pleasantly anticipating the film as it began, but within a minute or two I already hated it. It was bad. And it only got worse as time went on. A lot worse. It seems that the bigger a budget a Hollywood movie has, the less they spend on writing. It was just so stupid. A few months later Roger Ebert cited it as one of the worst movies of the year. As a matter of fact, as his Worst of 1999 show progressed, I realized that quite a number of the films he panned were one's I'd seen on airplanes and busses. It's as if the travel industry intentionally picks the worst possible movies to play.

The movie dragged on. I had dinner and another drink or two. I managed to only disturb the old guy next to me once all flight to get up and take a leak. Despite all the negative aspects of the flight, time went by fairly quickly.

We touched down and everyone filed slowly off the plane. When I got into the terminal I saw Richard there waiting for me. It turned out that Kenny had something else going on that night. At first I was a little put off. A trip to San Francisco is a pretty big ordeal for me, and I couldn't imagine what was more important to Kenny than coming to greet me. But Richard explained that he'd been sailing all day on the bay. Since I was there last Kenny had taken a job with Sony Playstation. Apparently some clinets were courting them, and took Kenny and others out for a day on the water and drinks afterwards. I couldn't exactly expect him to sacrifice that just to pick me up at the airport. In the same situation I would have done exactly the same thing.

After taking another trip to the bathroom we were on our way. Immediately outside the building I lit up a smoke. Unfortunately Richard had found a parking space right next to the door. He stood by patiently for a few minutes as I satisfied my nicotine fix. As we were driving into the city I realized that this was the first time I'd been in the company of one of them without the other being there.

We went directly to the Pension so I could check in. There seemed to be some confusion about my reservation, but after a little shuffling it turned out they did have a room for me. I was curious which room I'd be in. I really didn't want to be in the dark, dank room they put me in the previous time. It wound up being on the third floor. This building, like in Europe, didn't count the ground floor as #1, so I was effectively on the fourth floor. Richard and I ran up to the room, I dropped off my stuff, and we were on our way again.

We went back to their apartment. Richard expected Kenny to be home, but he wasn't there. There wasn't even a message on the machine. Richard expected that they were probably having drinks and not much in the mood to stop, this being a Friday night. Richard had the cell phone, so he couldn't call him. We decided to go out and get a bite to eat.

We walked towards the Castro. On my first trip I felt like a naive outsider being led around by the hand. This time I knew where we were and where we were going. I was feeling more a part of San Francisco and less like a tourist. When we got to Market Street Richard asked me what I was in the mood for. I told him I just wanted something simple and quick. He said that simple was fine, but quick might be a problem. We decided on Chow on Church St. We went in and were seated at the counter pretty quickly. As soon as we sat down Richard's phone rang. I could tell pretty quickly it was Kenny. Richard told him we just left the apartment a few minutes ago. It sounded like Kenny wanted to crash, but Richard talked him into coming out.

We sat there and chatted as we waited for our food. Not long after we started eating Kenny walked in. He was pretty buzzed. For some reason he was talking at the top of his lungs. Richard was continually telling him to quiet down. We finished our food pretty quickly and walked next door to the Pilsner Inn.

I got us some drinks and we walked back out to the patio so I could smoke. It was also less crowded out there. We stood by a small crowd of folks that Kenny and Richard knew and chatted a bit. One of the guys noticed my eyebrow. I was drinking faster than the other guys were, so I went to the back bar and got another drink.

While I was back there I talked up the bartender. I was buzzed enough that my characteristic shyness was abated. There was another guy at the bar who obviously knew the bartender, and he and I quickly got into a conversation. His name was Oscar. He was a fairly handsom latino, but his hair was more nappy than I would have expected. Rather than returning to the gang I continued hanging out with Oscar. To keep the conversation going I suggested we play the question game. It was what I did with Monté the first night we met. We just took turns asking each other questions. It could be as simple as, "What's your favorite movie," or as deep as "What is your family life like."

We talked on and on. He said that I was very refreshing because all the people he meets wind up being so unoriginal. I picked up on that in an instant. One quality I know I have in spades is originality. We actually started learning a fair amount about each other. He was absolutely astounded that I'd never taken Ecstacy. He simply couldn't fathom in this day and age that there could be a gay man anywhere in America who hadn't takend Ecstasy.

After a while Richard came back and found me.

"We're leaving," he said.

I perked up a bit. "Where are you going?" I asked. I had visions of the Powerhouse or other new and exiciting places.

Richard looked at me. "Home," he said.

"Oh!" I said with a smile. In times past I would have needed them to guide me back to my hotel, but by this time I was entirely comfortable on my own. He said they had stuff to do the next day, but maybe we'd get together for dinner. I said goodbye and he was on his way.

Oscar and I continued talking. In fact we talked late into the night. I missed last call, but the bartender sold me one last drink anyway. When it was gone Oscar invited me back to his place. I asked him what his jealous boyfriend would think about that. I didn't even know if he had a boyfriend, let alone if he'd be jealous. It became a joke with us. We left and walked back to Oscar's place. He had a very nice apartment only a few blocks away.

We poured ourselves a couple of drinks and went into his room. He toweled the door, cracked a window, and we lit up a couple of smokes. I saw his computer and asked if I could bring up my website. I have rather a habit of doing that when I go home with someone all drunk out of my mind. We flashed through some pictures, but quickly turned it off and got in bed.

We rolled around doing this and that for a while. At one point I wound up sucking on his balls. I had his whole sack in my mouth and was sucking away. He sounded like he was enjoying it. Truth be told I was enjoying it quite a bit myself. I don't know what it was about it, but it was a real turnon for me. I'm way more into cock than I am into balls, but the testicles are truly the source of manhood, and I had his entirely in my mouth. That went on for quite some time.

Eventually we were both exhausted. I forget if he came or not, but I know I didn't. Finally we rolled over and went to sleep.