Not sure why I am choosing to write about this right now or why this particular memory just flickered to the surface of my mind, but since it's been a quiet week and nothing of note really occurred, so why not reach back for an old story...right? Right!
If any of you have read anything about my Summer it might seem like I'm always been hooking up like a drunken sailor while in port. Not true. In fact, from the first time I hooked up with a guy, which was when I was 20, and, oh let's say last December, when I was 27, there existed a yawning gap in almost any sexual activity.
Fuck. I can't believe I made it that long without getting any. All those lonely years when it was only me and my Right Hand Man. There are legit reasons for being so chaste, not the least of which was being outed to several people by said first hook up (btw, one day I will complete the three part series that I started here, but honestly, writing that so painful that it's not a place I care to revisit anytime soon). Other reasons included being depressed/stressed and living in the dull suburbs...but I digress.
One lonely night when I was 22 or 23 (I forget which as I was a serious pothead at the time) I was on-line in a chat room on gay.com. Honestly, at the time I was not seeking out a hook-up or whatever, but rather seeking another person to confide in about my situation at the time.
It was getting late and I was getting nowhere in that I was fending off all sorts of advances from people that I would never consider hooking up with. Then, like a beacon at sea on a foggy night Brian (not his real name) started a convo with me.
We seemed to have much in common, in that we were both college guys totally stuck in the closet and sick of it. We chatted for about an hour about all sorts of shit when he says:
Brain: "I want to meet you in person".
Me: "Me too, you seem really cool and I think we would get along..."
Brain: "Come over..."
Me: "What? Like now? It's almost Midnight".
Brain: "So what...we can make it work out."
Me; "...um, well, where would we meet...my place is a definite no".
Brain: "Come over here, it might be tricky, but we can make it work...I mean, but, like, only if you want to".
Me: "Oh, I , I really want to".
And oh did I want to. We swapped pictures and he was cute, and I was intrigued that he was a frat boy but didn't seem like your typical frat boy. Of course over the years I have learned that not all frat boys subscribe to what I thought at the time was my idea of what a frat boy was, but that's neither here nor there.
He gave me directions to his place and I got dressed. At this point in my life I was still living at home with my father and since he was sleeping, and I didn't want him to know that I was taking off at Midnight, I carefully unlatched the garage door from the automatic opener, pushed it up and rolled out, quietly closing the door behind me (in retrospect this probably was even shadier of me because I doubt I was that quiet).
On the ride down to Evanston (some of you might now which school I was headed to, but I won't make it that blatantly obvious) I chain smoked like I was waiting for test results. I was scared, nervous and really excited. It didn't help that I couldn't find his frat house at first...or that I was meeting a frat boy at his frat house.
Finally I found the address, parked a street over and called him. He answered on the second ring (I can't believe I remember these details so clearly) and I found him, literally lurking in a shadow wearing basketball shorts and a hoodie. Whoa. Hotness defined right there! More nervous/excited now that he was real and not merely an on-line profile.
He asked to wait where I was, poked his head in the side door, and waved me over. We "sneaked" into his room, which I remember being rather spacious for a room at a frat house. He explained that his Roomie was out of town fucking his girlfriend and we settled in on a couch/futon thing.
Right away he sensed my nervousness (as did I his) so the conversation was stilted at first, then flowed freely for about 20 minutes, then abruptly stopped. The sexual tension in that room was almost unbearable. I almost made a move, stopped, and then he said:
Brain: "So, um...do you want to..."
Me: "...yeah"
That was all he needed and he reached over and went right for my cock, leaned in and kissed me. I kissed him back but he pulled away.
Brain: "Are you a smoker?"
Me: "...well, no, um yeah...I was really nervous coming over here and..."
Brain: "it's cool...it's not my thing, but...
With that he somehow stood me up, took off my jeans and grazed his mouth against my boxers. Holy fucking shit, I was in heaven...but it was a quick tease. He then started feeling my body up and down and all over. I suppose you could consider it "G" rated sex but it was insanely hot and I thought I would bust a nut at any moment.
At my suggestion we traded places and tried my best to replicate what he had done to me to make me feel so good. Eventually he pulled out the futon so we could both lie down next to one another and fool around some more. At one point I remembered that I could hear the party going on upstairs...loud rowdy boys getting drunk and playing stupid music...
Long story short I was brought back to reality when I unexpectedly shot all over him. He had to tell me to be quiet and suddenly the gravity of the scene hit me. What the fuck was I doing here anyways? Who was this guy? I got all nervous and wanted to leave, much to his, not to mention my, chagrin.
He quickly picked up on this and offered to let me stay over, claiming that just last week another college guy crashed the night and "it was cool". He explained that we could watch porn or a just a movie. But at the time the only thing my in the closet mind wanted was a smoke and to get the fuck out of there.
I still feel almost bad about the situation, like it was somehow his fault when in reality I was not yet at a place where I could accept that I was gay and that I liked (really, really liked) what just happened. What a pussy I was! I declined his offer to call me and instead gave him my personal e-mail address, which was "tylerdurden@hotmail.com". Yeah, I gave him a fake e-mail address to Brad Pitt's character from "Fight Club".
What an idiot/asshole I was...
Long story short, I love how open and relaxed I am now with my sexuality. Bear in mind that have no intentions of meeting anyone on-line or at a bar anytime soon, at least not for sex. No, I have a FAR better appreciation for what I really want now...and more importantly, I finally feel ready for something real.
*Sigh*
If any of you have read anything about my Summer it might seem like I'm always been hooking up like a drunken sailor while in port. Not true. In fact, from the first time I hooked up with a guy, which was when I was 20, and, oh let's say last December, when I was 27, there existed a yawning gap in almost any sexual activity.
Fuck. I can't believe I made it that long without getting any. All those lonely years when it was only me and my Right Hand Man. There are legit reasons for being so chaste, not the least of which was being outed to several people by said first hook up (btw, one day I will complete the three part series that I started here, but honestly, writing that so painful that it's not a place I care to revisit anytime soon). Other reasons included being depressed/stressed and living in the dull suburbs...but I digress.
One lonely night when I was 22 or 23 (I forget which as I was a serious pothead at the time) I was on-line in a chat room on gay.com. Honestly, at the time I was not seeking out a hook-up or whatever, but rather seeking another person to confide in about my situation at the time.
It was getting late and I was getting nowhere in that I was fending off all sorts of advances from people that I would never consider hooking up with. Then, like a beacon at sea on a foggy night Brian (not his real name) started a convo with me.
We seemed to have much in common, in that we were both college guys totally stuck in the closet and sick of it. We chatted for about an hour about all sorts of shit when he says:
Brain: "I want to meet you in person".
Me: "Me too, you seem really cool and I think we would get along..."
Brain: "Come over..."
Me: "What? Like now? It's almost Midnight".
Brain: "So what...we can make it work out."
Me; "...um, well, where would we meet...my place is a definite no".
Brain: "Come over here, it might be tricky, but we can make it work...I mean, but, like, only if you want to".
Me: "Oh, I , I really want to".
And oh did I want to. We swapped pictures and he was cute, and I was intrigued that he was a frat boy but didn't seem like your typical frat boy. Of course over the years I have learned that not all frat boys subscribe to what I thought at the time was my idea of what a frat boy was, but that's neither here nor there.
He gave me directions to his place and I got dressed. At this point in my life I was still living at home with my father and since he was sleeping, and I didn't want him to know that I was taking off at Midnight, I carefully unlatched the garage door from the automatic opener, pushed it up and rolled out, quietly closing the door behind me (in retrospect this probably was even shadier of me because I doubt I was that quiet).
On the ride down to Evanston (some of you might now which school I was headed to, but I won't make it that blatantly obvious) I chain smoked like I was waiting for test results. I was scared, nervous and really excited. It didn't help that I couldn't find his frat house at first...or that I was meeting a frat boy at his frat house.
Finally I found the address, parked a street over and called him. He answered on the second ring (I can't believe I remember these details so clearly) and I found him, literally lurking in a shadow wearing basketball shorts and a hoodie. Whoa. Hotness defined right there! More nervous/excited now that he was real and not merely an on-line profile.
He asked to wait where I was, poked his head in the side door, and waved me over. We "sneaked" into his room, which I remember being rather spacious for a room at a frat house. He explained that his Roomie was out of town fucking his girlfriend and we settled in on a couch/futon thing.
Right away he sensed my nervousness (as did I his) so the conversation was stilted at first, then flowed freely for about 20 minutes, then abruptly stopped. The sexual tension in that room was almost unbearable. I almost made a move, stopped, and then he said:
Brain: "So, um...do you want to..."
Me: "...yeah"
That was all he needed and he reached over and went right for my cock, leaned in and kissed me. I kissed him back but he pulled away.
Brain: "Are you a smoker?"
Me: "...well, no, um yeah...I was really nervous coming over here and..."
Brain: "it's cool...it's not my thing, but...
With that he somehow stood me up, took off my jeans and grazed his mouth against my boxers. Holy fucking shit, I was in heaven...but it was a quick tease. He then started feeling my body up and down and all over. I suppose you could consider it "G" rated sex but it was insanely hot and I thought I would bust a nut at any moment.
At my suggestion we traded places and tried my best to replicate what he had done to me to make me feel so good. Eventually he pulled out the futon so we could both lie down next to one another and fool around some more. At one point I remembered that I could hear the party going on upstairs...loud rowdy boys getting drunk and playing stupid music...
Long story short I was brought back to reality when I unexpectedly shot all over him. He had to tell me to be quiet and suddenly the gravity of the scene hit me. What the fuck was I doing here anyways? Who was this guy? I got all nervous and wanted to leave, much to his, not to mention my, chagrin.
He quickly picked up on this and offered to let me stay over, claiming that just last week another college guy crashed the night and "it was cool". He explained that we could watch porn or a just a movie. But at the time the only thing my in the closet mind wanted was a smoke and to get the fuck out of there.
I still feel almost bad about the situation, like it was somehow his fault when in reality I was not yet at a place where I could accept that I was gay and that I liked (really, really liked) what just happened. What a pussy I was! I declined his offer to call me and instead gave him my personal e-mail address, which was "tylerdurden@hotmail.com". Yeah, I gave him a fake e-mail address to Brad Pitt's character from "Fight Club".
What an idiot/asshole I was...
Long story short, I love how open and relaxed I am now with my sexuality. Bear in mind that have no intentions of meeting anyone on-line or at a bar anytime soon, at least not for sex. No, I have a FAR better appreciation for what I really want now...and more importantly, I finally feel ready for something real.
*Sigh*
3 comments:
Awww, poor frat boy. He had to know "tylerdurden@hotmail.com" was a crock, and yet he just let you walk out of his life anyway...
I never would have had the balls to even meet a guy back in college. So lame.
Nothing Golden Stays
Chain smoking? Sigh.
You weren't ready, it happens. Why is it that as soon as one cums, you're suddenly shot back to reality? LOL>
I've had some fun myself at that school (wink, wink) Oh and I would not have known that was a fake e-mail address either. I never saw fight club.
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