Friday, March 12, 2010

Don't Worry, Be Happy

Gabbie and I snogged for a while. That made her happy.

Eventually I walked her back to her room. Alone at last I thought about what I had said and done.

I knew that I should have told her the truth, but I just couldn't get it out. Then, when she reminded me that she had been serially hurt by boyfriends that turned out to be gay, I felt that if I confessed I would be reopening those painful wounds. It would have been cruel to be honest; it was easier to tell her what she wanted to hear.

As for what to do next, I felt that the easiest, least painful answer was to take things one day at a time. I figured that our time together was limited, at best. My high school girlfriend Kathy and I had lasted less than three months so it was unlikely that Gabbie and I would even last until the end of the semester. And if we did make it to the end, she would go back to her school and I would go back to mine.

Rather than worry about what I had done, I made the decision to relax, be happy and to not worry. To go with the flow.

Poor David had to find a new field trip buddy. Gabbie wasn't suffocatingly clingy but she definitely expected us to spend a lot of time together. This was an adjustment for me because I was used to having my own space. To Gabbie's credit, for every minute when I was silently frustrated with her, there were twenty minutes when I was amused by her wit or entertained by her exuberance.

It was also fun to experience some depth in a relationship. Kathy and I had basically role-played our three months together; neither of us had shared much of our true selves. And Brian just didn't have much depth to him. So after a few weeks with Gabbie I began to understand the complexity of what having a real relationship was like.

In our third week together I was surprised, yet pleased, when Gabbie announced to me that she was going to a University dance with Kat and two English guys on Saturday night. "Don't worry," she said, "we're just going to drink and dance and have fun."
She didn't explicitly say that it was a date but we both knew it was.

"OK" I said, "have fun." And I meant it. Her date was a clear signal to me that neither of us was taking our relationship particularly seriously.

When Saturday came I spent most of the night out pubbing with friends from school. My supply of cash had dwindled to such a degree that I had no choice but to have just one pint a night. It was a fun enough night but I was in bed by 1am. Around 2:30 I was awakened by a knock on my door. "Come in."

It was Gabbie. "Hi sweetie, how are you?"

Um, I was sleeping, how do you think I am? " are you?"

"Good. Me and Kat had fun..." she continued with a detailed description of her night. I was too dazed to pay attention to what she was saying. "...and he had his hands all over me but I told him I had a boyfriend."

"Uh huh."

"He was nice at first but then he turned kind of sleezy, so I didn't really like him. I'm so glad you're not like that."

"Uh huh."

Then she rambled on a while longer. She was fairly drunk but by no means incoherent. I was trying to be patient and interested but after being asleep for such a short time I honestly just wanted to go back to sleep. She eventually picked-up on my reluctance to talk and gave me a kiss good night.

I had really hoped that the date would have gone better for her. A second boyfriend could have given me an easy escape. Still, the fact that she had a date with someone else was good news to me. I felt somewhat emancipated. By Tuesday I had written a personal ad for the Men Seeking Men section of the London weekly Time Out. I figured that I was going to be in Oxford long enough that I could attempt to meet a guy and at least have a two month fling.

My ad received a surprising number of replies. After sifting through them the one that was most intriguing to me was a 24 year old biologist named Nigel. He had included a photo with his reply. He was cute but not hot. He lived in Reading which was only one stop from Oxford on an express train. Like me, he was not out.

I rang Nigel and we spoke for a few minutes and seemed to click well enough. We made a date for the following Wednesday afternoon. We would meet at Kew Gardens in London.

When I found him waiting at the gates of Kew I introduced myself. He seemed to like me so we were off to a good start.

We walked around the gardens and talked about ourselves, our interests and what kind of relationship we were looking for. Although Nigel was four years older than me, he told me that he had never had a significant relationship with anyone. I told him a little about Brian but nothing about Gabbie.

He had to catch a train to see his sister at 4:30 and by 3:30 we felt comfortable enough with each other that we started getting frisky. Kew is a public garden and even though it was a weekday, plenty of other people were about. After some serious flirting between us, Nigel was determined to get some action. He pulled me behind a large bush about eight feet from a walking path and kissed me deeply. Between the connection I felt with him and the nervous energy of passionately making out with a guy in public, I was hard in no time. Nigel pawed at my crotch and grinned. Then he stood back and showed me the outline of his hard dick in his jeans. Just seeing the contour of his erection was enough to make me half-dizzy with desire.

After a few more minutes of kissing, rubbing and grinding, Nigel started to undo my jeans. Although we were sort of hidden, we really weren't. I mean, I could see the pathway so surely anyone walking past could see us. Nigel didn't care. He had my dick out and down his throat in seconds. It was crazy having an English guy blowing me in a bush in the middle of Kew Gardens. The fear of being seen was invigorating but it did not stop me from wanting to cum as soon as possible. I really did not want to be arrested for public indecency in a foreign country. Nigel ferociously devoured me and I quietly egged him along until I blew into his mouth.

I didn't know what to expect next but Nigel did. He wanted a blow job of his own. Now that I had cum, the intensity of the situation had faded a bit for me. I had a mental picture of the two of us, cowering in the bush, me on my knees and Nigel gripping my head as he thrust into my mouth. For some reason it was more funny than erotic. I would have laughed if I hadn't had a dick in my mouth.

Fortunately, Nigel was keen to finish quickly too. The only weird moment was when an older couple wandered by and I heard the woman say "Oh!" and the couple quickly turned away. Nigel didn't seem to be aware of them so he kept on thrusting and within two minutes unloaded a small, salty load in my mouth.

I whispered to Nigel that we had been spotted so he zipped up and we ran from behind the bush in the opposite direction of where I thought the couple had gone. After a few minutes we found a bench and collapsed on to it, laughing. We talked for a while longer then Nigel checked his watch and told me that he had to go. I walked with him to the Underground station and said that I would call him soon.

Although the date had gone well, as I was sitting on the train back to Oxford I realized that I was somewhat disappointed. Blow jobs in the bushes were fun but what I really wanted was a connection. Nigel said he did too but his actions made me wonder if sex was more important to him than anything else.

I rang Nigel again a few days later and we made another date. This time he wanted to come to Oxford. This made me nervous because I was afraid that we would bump into someone from school and I wouldn't know how to explain him.

When the day arrived, a Wednesday, I met Nigel at the train station. We said our hellos and walked toward the centre of town. "What should we do?" I asked.

"What would you like to do?"

"Have you spent much time in Oxford?"

"Yes, I've been here often."

"Is there any place you'd like to go?"

"A room alone with you."

I blushed a little. "Well, I do have my own room."

"Let's go then!"

So our date became a booty call.

My hand was really shaking as I turned the key in the door of the school's entrance. I was certain that I would run into one of my better friends and be forced to awkwardly introduce 'my friend Nigel.'

I quickly peered up the interior entrance stairs as I opened the door. No one was there and there were no sounds of anyone approaching. In a low voice I told Nigel, "Up the stairs and the first door on the right."

Thankfully we made it into my room without being seen. I locked the door and pulled the curtains. I kept the light off so that it would look as if I was not home.

Nigel pulled me into an embrace and leaned in to kiss me. It was fantastic to kiss a man.

We made out for a bit and then Nigel walked us to the bed. We flopped down on it, me on the bottom, him on top. We wriggled and groped and rubbed and slurped for a good fifteen minutes. Then the clothes started coming off. Shirts and shoes, pants and underwear. Gloriously naked we rubbed our bodies together in a slight rhythmic hump.

Nigel whispered in my ear, "Do you have a condom?"

"I'm sorry, I don't."

"Me either. We'll have to make do."

Nigel pushed his cock more fervently against me, giving me the clue that he wanted to body-fuck.

I loved feeling the weight of his body pressed into mine, and his slick, sweaty skin slidding across my chest, stomach and cock. I closed my eyes as I relished the sensual intimacy of being with him.

Then I froze.

Someone was coming down the staircase from the second floor. I worried that if I could hear them, Nigel and I could be heard.

Nigel stopped grinding and looked at me with a puzzled expression.

Then came a knock on my door.

"Cam?....sweetie?" It was Gabbie.

I stopped breathing; I could not allow any sound to escape me.

After a pause, there was another knock. "Cam? ... are you in there?"

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Please go away.

Another pause. My once warm sweat had turned ice cold. My body trembled as adreneline caused by fear coursed through me.

Then came the jiggling of the door handle. Oh fuck, oh fuck.

The door did not open.

Another long pause.

Then the sound of Gabbie's footfalls on the staircase up to the second floor.

"Who was that?"

"A friend" I said.

"Oh. ... Now where were we?"

Nigel was ready to continue exactly as we were. But I was freaked out. I was certain that Gabbie was going to return at any moment. I wanted Nigel to leave. Immediately.

"Nigel, I'm sorry, but I'm a little freaked out."

"Oh it's fine. She's gone. The door is locked."

"Um....Well, ok....The thing is, I don't think I can cum. Would it be ok if I gave you a blow job and we called it a day?"

"If that's what you want."

So I went down on Nigel.

I'm sure I did a shitty job. All I wanted was for him to cum as quickly as possible and then to leave. Within about 10 minutes I got the first part of my wish.

Then, as if it things weren't awkward enough, after he came, an invisible but impenetrable wall fell between us. We hugged goodbye but it was a token jesture. The fear of being caught with him had instantly killed all of my desire to be with him. My freaky, distracted and insincere behavior likely killed his desire to be with me.

A few days later I rang Nigel again. I apologized and explained that the girl pounding on the door was my girlfriend. "I'm sorry Nigel but I don't think I should be dating two people at once."

Nigel agreed. We never spoke again.

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