Sunday, November 15, 2015

More Sex

I asked a few friends if they thought naked cuddling, some oral stimulation and no orgasm counts as sex.  They said it did.

Boo.  I didn't really want to end three years of celibacy with an uninspiring forty minutes with Yousef, but I guess I did.

I don't completely regret the experience.  It's likely that I reached a point where maintaining my celibacy became (stupidly) too important.  At my age, why bother?  And who cares?  Breaking the streak is probably good for my mental health, so, no regrets.

Staying with that attitude, I decided I should welcome the prospect of more sex with Yousef.  I therefore found myself looking forward to seeing him on a recent Saturday night, mostly because I wanted to fool around again and actually enjoy it.

We spent a large part of the evening at a social event that lasted much longer than expected.  By the time we arrived at Yousef's place it was 11:00pm.  Then we had to walk his dog and eat some leftovers because we were both hungry.  Finally, at nearly 12:00, we started making out.  I was more into it than the prior week, and thankfully, my mind didn't wander.

Once our clothes were shed, Yousef made a non-verbal indication that he wanted to fuck me.  My response was direct and a little sharp: "Sorry, that's not going to happen."  Generally speaking, I'm not opposed to the idea, but submitting to Yousef?  No.  I'm just not interested.

Then, much to my surprise, he offered to let me fuck him.  Now THAT I could get into.

I expected him to open a drawer and pull out a condom but he made no move to do so.  I wondered for a few seconds if he wanted to go bareback, then I decided it didn't matter, there was no way I was going to take any chances.  When I asked for a condom, he slightly hesitated, then said, "Of course."

His relaxed attitude about safety bothered me, which was an unwelcome distraction when I was supposed to be focused on something else.  The condom's dulling effect didn't help matters.  I made a number of attempts to penetrate him but when the fun started to feel like work, I switched things up.

Because it was so late, our session only lasted about thirty minutes.  I ended it as soon as Yousef was satisfied.

This isn't saying much... but it was a better experience than the first time.  I was more present and more into it.  I'm looking forward to our next meeting.  I'm intrigued by the challenge of trying to turn these very basic encounters into something hot and fulfilling.

Nothing like Yousef.  I'd call to make plans with this guy.

It's been two weeks since I last saw Yousef.

I never call him, and that (quite understandably) annoys him.  The thing is, if I wanted to earn an Oscar for faking interest in someone, I'd choose a woman.

He suggested that we meet for dinner on Saturday night, so we did.  In preparation for the romp afterward, I abstained from any kind of sexual release for four days in advance.  I figured, if being very horny wasn't enough to make for some magic between the sheets, nothing would.

Also, earlier in the day I got very turned on by Cooper...

Although Cooper and I spend a lot of time together, we don't talk about sex very often.  When we do, it's PG-rated.  On this day, Cooper broke all the usual rules and went on and on about wanting a sex buddy and how much fun that would be.  He even got a little graphic.  I, of course, wondered if he was waiting for me to volunteer for the role.  As tempted as I was to do so, I kept my cool, at least on the outside.  Inside, my already charged-up libido was deep into fantasy mode.  I didn't see Yousef until seven hours later, but thinking about Cooper all day kept me mentally lubed.

At dinner, Yousef spent some time complaining, as usual.  But then he shocked me by talking about moving in together.


He wasn't asking to do so, nor do I think he wanted to have a serious conversation about it, instead I think he was tossing the idea out there as a future possibility.  Of course, I didn't have the courage to tell him that's never going to happen. Ever.

Although that bit of strangeness threw me for a loop, I quickly recovered when it was time to pay the bill.  Leaving the restaurant meant the countdown to sex could officially begin!

Just as the bill arrived, Yousef said, "You know Cameron...I'm really beat.  Would you mind if we called it a night?"


"No problem, Yousef.  I totally understand."

That was a lie, I totally didn't understand.  We hadn't seen each other for two weeks, he talked about moving in together, and then he says he's too tired for sex?  What's the point, dude?  Why should I drive an hour each way to see you?

On the way home I kept thinking, "I'm done with this guy.  Done!"

Yet, here it is, the following Saturday afternoon, and Yousef and I are making plans to meet again tonight.

Sex is definitely on my agenda.  But the truth is, unless we have sex AND it's really awesome, Yousef will be receiving the "Let's be friends" speech from me in the very near future.  Once again I've abstained from any kind of sexual release for several days.  The way I see it, if raw horniness can't make for passion between two gay men, nothing can.


It's now Sunday morning.  Here's how Saturday night went -

Yousef originally wanted to go to dinner and see a movie. From my libido's point of view, that was a horrible idea.  *IF* Yousef wasn't too tired for sex, we'd get back to his place after 11, then we'd have to walk the dog, and finally we'd get down to business at close to midnight.  No.  That's not what I wanted.  Instead I suggested take-out and Netflix, which is date-speak for "let's have lots of sex."  Yousef seemed to understand that.

We ate the food, then watched the movie.  It was 10:30, the perfect time to start a long, spectacular sexcapade.  But what did Yousef do?  He started a one-hour documentary.   Grrr.  By the time that was over and the dog had been walked, it was midnight - and I was annoyed.

Soon after I met this guy four months ago, he kept talking about how much he enjoyed sex and how he couldn't wait to rip my clothes off.  But now that we've had D- and D+ sex sessions, he's proven himself to be only marginally better than a dead fish.  AND... he keeps complaining that we don't see each other enough.  I don't get it.  His inconsistencies just don't add up.

Anyway, SEX!

Things started off pretty well.  I felt lots of tingling in all the right places and I thought, "Yes, finally, this is going to be good!"  And then what happened?  Yousef essentially jerked himself off within five minutes.

"I can't wait to see you shoot all over me!" he said afterward. 

But that wasn't going to happen.  I was annoyed, frustrated and I didn't want him as my audience for a rushed, un-fun version of my normal show.  Sex is participatory dude!

Once again, on the one-hour drive home I kept repeating, "I'm done!"

Part of me feels like I should give him one more chance for at least a B- session, but maybe I'm just stalling because I dread the "let's be friends" conversation.  Further complicating matters is that I actually enjoyed the pre-sex part of the date with him more than any other time we've been together.

I know what I need to do, now I just have to do it.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Meeting More Men

Dating is definitely a numbers game.  Although you could focus on a lot of different aspects of the dating process, success ultimately comes down to math...and luck.  If you meet 100 new men in a year, instead of 10, your chances of clicking with someone are 10x greater.  It's that simple.  Pictures count for a lot, but "happily ever after" always begins with a face-to-face meeting.

And what's the best way to meet more men?

Well, based on the comments from my last post, the unanimous answer is...

Hook-up sites.

Several guys even shared the story of how they met their current partner by hooking up.  Yes, it works!
Definitely not "meh" but why bother, even for a hook-up?

With that in mind, I downloaded a popular hook-up app (not Grindr) and created a profile.  It's been up for a few days now - and I'm basking in the glow of being fresh meat - yet I very much feel like a fish out of water.

I get that the thrill of hooking-up with someone new can be a huge adrenaline rush, but that's not how I feel when I look at rows and rows of shirtless men.  Instead I feel bored and uninspired. "Meh" pretty much sums it up.

Then there are the messages that come in.  Quite a few of them have been complimentary and validating - "you're so handsome", "cute!", "you're just my type" - and that's been awesome, but once again, when I look at the men who sent them, I feel no thrill or attraction.  I'm grateful for the positive validations...but that's it.

This reaction comes on the heels of a significant Saturday night I had with Yousef.  He was away on vacation with his best friend for more than two weeks, so upon his return we agreed to meet for dinner to catch up, then go back to his place to look at pictures from the trip.

Dinner was OK, except Yousef complained a lot.  Among other things, he complained about how his friend behaved on the trip (although the friend paid for everything) and he complained about the food at the restaurant where we ate.  "I expected something much better than this!" he angrily told the waiter, making it the third time in six he's said that when we've been out.

Once we got to his place, he made it clear he wanted to make-out, and I was OK with that.  After a few minutes he led me to the bedroom and pulled off my shirt.  The last time we were together we had a shirtless make-out session, so I was OK with that too.  But this time, after only a minute or two, he simultaneously stripped off my pants and underwear.  At that moment I had to make a I tell him I haven't had sex in three years and I don't want to break that streak with him, OR, do I relax and act like the mature middle-aged gay man I'm supposed to be?

I chose the latter.

Here's the thing though - I felt very "meh" about the experience.  It wasn't a chore, but it wasn't a joy either.  Mostly, I felt like I was participating in a ritual; I went through the motions and tried to be "present", but my mind often wandered.  

For a while, I kept thinking "I wish I was doing this with Cooper," then, fearing Yousef might notice my detachment, I intently focused on getting him off.  I figured if I could do that, at least one of us would enjoy the experience.

Afterward he asked, "What can I do to help you?"  

"I'm good," I replied.  "It's been a long time.  I'm happy to just enjoy the intimacy."  

In truth, I wanted to leave.  That seemed like the smartest thing to do, largely because it would enable me to dodge uncomfortable questions like, "Can you tell me something you like about me?"  

[Poor Yousef.  He really is a smart, interesting and affectionate guy.  I do like him, but not enough.]

With that story told, I can go back to talking about hook-ups -

One of the primary reasons I've avoided them in recent years is because I fear regretting them afterward.  I ask myself, "Why do something that might put my health at risk just for the sake of an orgasm?"  

I never have a good answer.  All I can think about is how it's better to be safe than sorry.

Also, what most attracts me to men is the chance to feel emotionally connected to them, yet that's NOT the purpose of a hook-up.  Which leaves me asking...if I'm unlikely to get what I truly want out of them, why do them?

So..hook-ups are real quandary for me.  They may be the best way to meet more men, but should I do them if I'm not really into them?  Perhaps the solution is to be open to the possibility, and let things happen from there.  I don't know.  This is something I'll probably continue to struggle with for some time.