Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Sex as the Gay Man's Handshake

A few years ago, there was a gay blogger who entertained his readers with stories of traveling the world and hooking-up along the way.  I forget the title of his blog but "Sex is the Gay Man's Handshake" was his mantra.
Who's the a-hole who told the Baptists?

I've never understood that way of thinking.  The idea that sex could (or should) be the very first step toward creating a lasting connection feels odd.  And somewhat wrong.

I don't mean "wrong" in the moral sense, I mean it's not for me.  I see sex as such a bonding experience that I strongly prefer it only after an emotional connection has been established.  When that doesn't happen and sex comes first...well, that's weird.

In response to my previous post, Rob of I Just Wanna Be Happy said I sounded surprised that the Architect and I had sex on our first date.  "I think the reality is most gay 'first' dates end with sex if the two guys click."

Many of them do, I'm sure.  But this is the first time it's happened to me --- and I certainly didn't plan or expect it.  I don't think the Architect did either.  So yes, I was surprised.


And surprise became regret the morning after.  Not in a major way, but just in the sense that I questioned whether I'd turned something potentially great into something cheap and transient.

To try to prevent that from happening, I sent the Architect a glowing "thank you" text the next day.  I also told him I'd like to meet again "very soon."

"I'd like that," he quickly replied.   


Within minutes we made plans for a second date: dinner at his place, on the day after Thanksgiving.  "I hope you don't mind leftover Cornish Game Hen?  If you do, I can easily make something else." Awww.

Friday couldn't come fast enough, but when it did, my fear that we had sex too soon returned.  Our first date had left me in a such a state of sexual euphoria that I really had no idea if our connection was more than skin deep.  That left me wrestling with uncertainty...
Will the magic be gone because the sexual tension has already played out?
Will one of us no longer be attracted to the other?
Will it be awkward because we actually don't have that much in common?  
The answers to those questions would make or break the second date - and any potential future together.


The moment I saw him again, the lust returned in full-force.

Must. Not. Lose. Control.

It was difficult to keep my desires under wraps but I had to.  I needed to be certain we had a connection that transcended sex, and, I needed to be certain I was seeing him for who he was, not for who I wanted him to be.

As he prepped and cooked the dinner, we talked.  As we ate, we talked.  Physically, we barely touched.  For me it was safer that way.  I needed to be clear minded.

While I can't say we had any amazing discussions, we certainly had natural rapport.  There were a few times when the conversation dragged a bit, and I had to think of questions to keep it going, but overall the "getting to know you" phase went well.  No hidden icebergs.

We'd been together for about two hours and, as I said, barely touched.  I knew I had good reason to keep my distance, but as we cleared the dinner plates, I began to wonder why he was keeping his.  Was he no longer attracted to me?

Then, as if he was reading my thoughts, he plopped down next to me and laid his head on my chest.  With desire in his eyes, he looked up at me.  I couldn't resist.  I had to kiss him.

Once the kissing started, we could not stop.  I least I couldn't.  Within minutes, we were upstairs, in his bedroom, frantically pulling off our clothes so we could be naked together under the sheets.

It was fun, sensual, passionate and very, very exciting.  Afterward, we tightly cuddled for a long time.  Just as with the first time, he fell asleep.  Holding him as he slept was heavenly.  And natural.  Totally natural.

Oh how I wished I could spend the night!  But with my kids at home, that wasn't possible.  Not yet anyway.

I tried to sneak out of the bed without waking him but I wasn't successful.  "Handsome?"  That's his nickname for me, "Are you leaving?"

"Yes.  I'm sorry, I have to go.  Thank you for a wonderful night and a wonderful meal.  You're a terrific chef and a terrific person.  I... um, would like to see you again very soon."

"I was going to tell you...I should have said something earlier... I'm leaving on Monday for two weeks.  I'm visiting my parents in India."


"Oh. Um... well, that's good.  I'm sure your parents will be very happy to see you.  Monday?  Wow.  I expect you'll be quite busy preparing for the trip between now and then."

"Yes.  The worst part is that I have to buy presents for all my relatives.  I really hate shopping but I have to do it."

"I'd be happy to go with you...  as moral support, you know?"

"No.  I wouldn't be any fun at all.  But I would like to meet again when I return."

"Sure....SURE!  Yes, I'd like to meet again too.  You're a really wonderful man."

On the drive home all I could think about was how two weeks would seem like forever.  This is so frustrating.  I finally meet someone I really like - and he seems to really like me - and now I'll be stuck...waiting.   Waiting, waiting, waiting.  GAH!  Two weeks can't come and go fast enough!!!!!!!!!!!

To be continued...

Monday, December 7, 2015

Even More Sex, and, What Can Happen When You're High on Endorphins

About two weeks ago I received a "like" from a guy I didn't recognize on a dating site I'd written off as useless. The guy was cute and his profile was warm and authentic, so I messaged him, hoping he might reply.  He did, with a glowing response about how much he liked my profile and how handsome I was.

Well, damn!

That message began a daily habit wherein we exchanged boatloads of flattering comments about each other.  After about the fourth day, however, I started to wonder if he might be a catfish because he kept ignoring my requests to meet in person.  Then he talked about the weather in San Antonio on one day and Salt Lake City on another.  Why not say he couldn't meet because he was traveling?  I wondered.  Finally, on the tenth day, at the very end of yet another highly flattering email he said, "I'm free for the next several days."


It took a few more messages but eventually I got him to commit to a day, time and location for dinner.  Essentially I said, "Pick what works for you and I'll be there."

On the appointed day, in anticipation of finally meeting, I did some last-minute homework and reviewed his profile, pictures and the messages we exchanged.  I wanted to be certain the details were fresh in my mind so I could keep the conversation flowing in case there was a lull.  When that was completed, I still had time to kill so I did a web search of his name and pictures to see if anything came up.  It turns out that he's quite a successful architect.  Nice.

More searching led me to a series of links and ultimately a Youtube video of him speaking at a conference in Denver.  Much to my delight, in the video he was every bit as handsome as his dating profile pictures suggested.  His voice, mannerisms and demeanor were all very pleasing too.

Watching the video really put me over the top.  Because I could clearly see and hear him in it, I was *certain* I would be attracted to him when we met.  The more I thought about him, the more excited I got.  Could something special actually happen between us??

I spent about a half-hour contemplating the possibilities... then I realized I was setting myself up for a huge disappointment if he didn't like me or if we didn't click.  In an attempt to be more grounded, I reminded myself that his behavior was a little fishy and that none of his pictures, nor the Youtube video, showed his full body.  What if he was wheel-chair bound or something?

About thirty minutes prior to our meeting he sent a text: "Let's promise not to have expectations of each other."  I replied with, "I'm driving to the restaurant now...with no expectations."  Such a lie!

As I waited in front of the restaurant, the much-anticipated moment finally arrived.  There he was...a very handsome man walking toward me.  He was a little shorter than I expected - but that's good because I have an affinity for short men.
Not pear-shaped. Tom Daley = perfection

After we said hello and checked in with the hostess, we were led to a small table in the back.  In an attempt to be a gentleman, I let him go first.  That's when I got a good look at his backside.  Um.  Hmm.  In his profile he describes his body as 'fit and athletic'.  That's not what I see...  Once we were seated, however, and I looked into his beautiful brown eyes, all thoughts of his pear-shaped body quickly evaporated from my mind.

To be honest, I don't remember much of our conversation.  That might be because the communication I focused on was happening between our eyes and through our facial expressions.  My eyes feasted on how completely adorable he was, while he kept blushing and looking down.  It was a virtuous cycle of lust and shy charm that was almost dizzying.

Dinner lasted nearly two hours, in part because I never wanted it to end.  Not only was he cute, smart, sweet and incredibly charming, but I also felt like we were genuinely connecting.  Talking to him felt both amazing and completely natural.

Eventually, after the dessert had been devoured and the bill had been paid, it was time for us to go.  As we stepped out onto the street, the cool air cleared my head a little.  I didn't want to say goodbye but I also didn't know how to make a graceful exit.  Instead, I asked if he was parked nearby.  "No...I actually don't have a car - or even a driver's license.  I prefer to walk or take public transit.  I ran most of way here."  It turned out that he lived a mile and a half away.  Of course I asked if I could drive him home.  He paused for a second, then said, "OK."

When we arrived at his place, a cute turn-of-the-century Victorian, all too soon it was time to say "cheerio!"

"Can I get a goodnight kiss?" I asked.

"Here, in the car?" He replied doubtfully.  "How about on the doorstep?"

I parked and we walked up to his elegant porch.  "It's cold out here," he said.  "Do you mind if we go inside for a minute?"

The house was small but perfectly decorated.  The style was minimalist-yet-warm, a difficult balance to achieve.  He gave me a quick tour of the downstairs, including the backyard where he'd been working earlier in the day.  "Don't look at how messy it is!  I have a lot to do before Thanksgiving.  I'm having more people than usual this year.  I hope the yard will look nice."

"How many are you having?"

"Eighteen.  I'm making Cornish Game Hens.  The last time I cooked turkey there was too much leftover.  I ate turkey-everything for the next week."

"Eighteen?  Wow.  In addition to being a very handsome man, you must be an amazing cook too."  He sheepishly looked down, making it impossible for me to resist him any longer, "You're so adorable...I just have to kiss you."

Once we began kissing, I didn't want it to end.  He didn't either, apparently.  "Let's sit on the couch where we can be more comfortable," he suggested.  Then, after just a few minutes more, "This couch is too small, let's go upstairs."

By "upstairs" I knew he meant his bedroom.  Should I go up?  This has been such a perfect first date...I don't want to turn it into a hook-up.

Once we were in the bedroom, we shed our shoes and he flopped down on the bed. In that position, he looked especially delicious.  We kissed for a while, and it was fantastic.

"It's getting hot in here," he whispered.  "I need to take this sweater off."

Before long, not only was his sweater off, but so was my shirt.  Then his.  Then his pants, then mine.

I have no idea how long we were naked together, but it was glorious - and fun...and passionate...and erotic...and exciting.  When it was over, we hadn't done anything more than what Yousef and I had done three times before, but it was a completely different experience.  This was good sex - and no orgasm was required.

On the drive home, I reveled in the after-glow.  Everything about the night was perfect.  Everything about him was perfect.  (Well...not entirely.  Given a choice, I'd prefer that his hips, ass and thighs were slimmer than his shoulders.)  But was it a mistake to get naked on the first date?  Did we turn something with loads of potential into a cheap hook-up?

Before we met, I was very confident we would click, yet I never imagined we'd have sex on the first date.  I don't think that was his intention either.  It just happened.  One step lead to the next.

What will our future be?  I wondered.  Of course we'll see each other again.  But was this a one-time thing where the magic can't be rekindled?  Or is this the start of something big and meaningful?


Yousef doesn't warrant a full post so I'm adding an addendum about him here...

I've been wanting to have the "Let's be friends" conversation with him for several weeks but I've also wanted the timing to be right. 

Finally, five days after I met the Architect, Yousef and I made arrangements to have dinner then see a live, interactive theatrical performance.  My goal for the night was to have the uncomfortable conversation at dinner and then, hopefully, let the performance end the night on a positive note.

At dinner, Yousef was his usual self as he complained about the food.  "This is the worst Cesar Salad I have ever had!  There are no croutons!"  I had a house salad soaked with croutons so I playfully flipped a few of them onto his plate.  "That's very rude, you know.  It's nice of you to share them but you should respectfully put them on my plate."

"Apparently I cause you endless grief!" I teased - with a goal in mind.

Right on cue, he took the bait.  Without having to say very much at all, in just a few minutes it was Yousef who was trying to comfort me,  "You'll always be part of my inner circle of friends."

With the deed done (quite skillfully if you ask me; I'd been carefully arranging the deck chairs on the Yousef-Titanic for weeks), we finished dinner and walked to the theater.

The show was put on by a local troupe, so my expectations were low, but it was better than I expected.  The interactions with the audience made it both interesting and entertaining.  Near the end, one bit involved a toilet plunger making a journey through the audience.  An actor carried the plunger around, slowing spinning it, as if it was flying in slow-motion.  We all knew it was destined to land on someone - and that person was Yousef.  He was a good target because he has a perfectly bald, smooth head.  Both Yousef and the rest of the audience had a good laugh as the actor struggled to remove the plunger from Yousef's head after it "landed" there.

The next day, I sent Yousef an email thanking him for dinner and the performance.  Here is a portion of what he said in reply:
"Yes, the show exceeded my expectations, except I woke up the next day with a neck/shoulder strain due to the activity the performer conducted on my head, shoulder, and neck. I did contact the company and let them know about my strain and the unsafe implications of their act. They were receptive and removed the plunger stunt from the performance. They offered to refund me the price of my ticket, but I declined."
Maybe he really was injured and I shouldn't make fun of him...but I see this as typical Yousef - a walking rain-cloud of negativity.  Although there are things I genuinely like about him, I've realized a good match for me is someone with a naturally positive attitude.  It's therefore not at all surprising that I liked the Architect so much - he's a fire hose of positivity - and it's all real.

The Architect and I did meet a second time.  More about that in the next post.