I honestly wish I had a father. Strike that. I wish I had a father who played a significant and positive role other than fucking my life up causing me to be a psychopath. You were never there for me. You never ever once saw me as your son. And for that, I hope you die like my childhood did when you beat the shit out of me.
There was a knock on my hotel door and I knew it was Christian. My adrenaline pumped and caused me to instantly feel sick as I got up to open the door for him. Peeking through the peep hole I saw his toned figure in the doorway. While on the phone with my dear friend I quickly jumped to an excuse as to why I had to hang up—-you can’t just say there is a boy at my hotel door wanting to fuck.
“Hey, come in.” I welcomed as he stepped through the threshold into my hotel room. His smell is the most I can remember that night. He smelt so amazing. As a gay man I tend to focus in more on hygiene habits more than anything; I feel as if its something that we all work so hard on that when that one man surprises us with something new like a smell that we instantly notice it.
He stepped in and got comfortable as I took a seat on my bed. Christian had brought a pair of gym shorts with him to change into to become more comfortable. He stepped into the bathroom and changed into his shorts. Straight out of a porno: as he took his pants off all I could see was his nice round ass bending over to slip his shorts on. Do all men go comando these days? If they do, thank you God for this blessing.
As he crouched into bed with me I took no time to curl up with him.
Now, I know people are curious as to what I was thinking. Realistically I am an idiot. Yet in that moment, I felt like superman. When these men come to men, I feel like I am the greatest, powerful and beautiful.
Christian held me. His warm body protected me from harm. My hotel towered over the Tampa bay and was empty and quiet. We watched TV and my mind was racing. I didn’t know if I wanted to kiss him or if we should just have lay there and enjoy the trashy reality TV. Then I felt his hands bring my face to his and we kissed.
A kiss obviously escalated to the beginning to our sex-capade. The extacy of the moment was too much for tumblr, I feel .
People think I am crazy. They see sides to me that are fictional and rehearsed. As if I live my life like that. You’re banana-bullshit if you think that’s true. I am a real human and nothing makes me more frustrated when people think that I am “sketchy” or “shady” I live a life that isn’t meant for everyone to know everything about, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.
I think it’s so weird the things people don’t know about me. Or they haven’t bothered to ask me.
I drove around Boston Tuesday morning in a $90,000 Mercedes coupe. At every stop light I had to touch the interior, the dash and the steering wheel just to remind myself that this is real. I was not dreaming. People on the street looked at me, they envied me. Deep inside my soul I was glad they were. I felt powerful and untamed. My drive was to simply get the man who has no label a coffee. Two sugars, extra milk. Skim. Who the fuck orders that? I stood in line at this busy Starbucks, dressed like a high school burnout, and these people just lived their lives around me. It was as if I were invisible. That feeling was so irresistible that I almost wanted to let dozens of people cut me just so I could stand there and be invisible. The coffee came to about $5 bucks and I slipped the barista his AMEX. She didn’t care that the card wasn’t mine, and she allowed me to continue my day. Back in the coupe and back to the hotel. When I got back to the room he was sleeping in our freezing cave. The blinds were stapled shut and the outside world didn’t exist to this man.
I sat in bed thinking “What am I doing?” The man next to me is 32 years old and owns a car that could pay for my college tuition.
I must have watched him sleep for at least a half an hour. He didn’t know a thing about me. His interest where in my physically being. Nothing about my family, friends or job mattered to him and it was almost sickening to think this; but this man was causing me to live a double life. We never discussed my past. Actually, my sexual past was fully interviewed but strictly for health concerns.
I sat up in that bed thinking about the amazing night of sex we had before. It was like a DVD on a loop, just playing highlighted scenes over and over in my head. As he still slept I felt the need to grab on to him. Pulling me closer he let out a pleasant sigh and continued to dream pleasantly.
When ever the man with no label isn’t available I feel lonely. He took off on a vacation that I was strictly not allowed to go to for the simple fact that he wanted to have sex with people he didn’t know. Alright, I am fine with that. Out of anger and jealousy I figured I’d hit up the old black book looking for at least someone to drink with.
I pawed through for at least an hour when army man texted me. I have been discouraged in him ever since I got the hint that he wasn’t attracted to me, and that he wanted to remain (and I curse this) “just friends”. I carried on conversation with him while I tried to manipulate other hopeless suitors into a night of fore play. As I realized my mission to potentially get laid was slowly crashing I took a lunge into a forbidden territory.
“I am so horny.” I texted him.
Truthfully I was surprised with myself because I know how difficult army man can be, but with the buzz of an iPhone he replied.
“My roommate leaves in 15 minutes.”
My testicles filled with joy as I jumped in my car and raced to his apartment. I wanted to be there in record time hoping that his sudden change in mind wouldn’t wear off causing him to suddenly “fall asleep” or turn me around. I had gotten about half way to my destination when I saw a pair of blues behind me.
“Fuck.” I said as I sat straight up in my seat and stashed my phone. I had been doing 13 miles over and the officer seemed to be a pretty understanding man. Was I going to explain that I was racing to a mans house to preform acts of satan? No. I was going to extend my apologies and create a work-related scenario with a deadline. Hooked. Line. And sinker. I was off.
I showed up at army man’s door about an hour after our initial text. I was nervous. I always get the butterflies before sex with a new man for the simple reason that I am thankful that someone finds me sexy enough to stick their cock in me. He poured me a drink and conversation was as if we were best friends. He wore a nice tight tee and some basketball shorts that illuminated his package which, and I wont lie, looked rather large.
After a decent amount of time dancing around the fact that I was only in his apartment to get laid I finally made the first move. I grabbed his cock and began rubbing it from the outside of his pants. He immediately started to get hard and with no surprise he was packing heat. The touching escalated to him laying on the bed naked, occasionally moaning, but passionately into what I was doing to his soldier.
“You weren’t lying, you are good!” he said as he pulled my head up close to his.
His next act puzzled me. He kissed me. Not a kiss that you give to someone when they’re giving you head and you need them to release your dick so you can have a second to breath, but the kiss you give a boyfriend.
Then came his next act of surprise: “I have a queen bed…you are welcomed to sleep over.”
I will say that I had to chew on that sentence for a minute before I actually processed it and returned with an answer. But is this fiction? I vomited the answer, “YES!” and returned to sucking his dick.
Was he in love with me? No. I am a sociopath who constantly thinks that any living object that shows me attention is in utter infatuation with me. False. Very false.
Our bodies shifted many times, this time I was on my back and he was roughly face fucking me and watching me struggle to breathe. He bent down, his dick placed on my chest, and he whispered: “I want to be in you.” Oh you do? Well I don’t feel like bleeding today. That is what the angel on my shoulder said, but they were infact too late because I was already being fingered with a German imported lube that made my ass more slippery than a wet race track.
He was a gentle fuck but he got the job done. Twice. We fucked twice that night. The more interesting part of this fiasco was me being up all night listening to this man snore and occasionally talk in his sleep. Why did I miss my other man so much? Painfully I fell asleep with many thoughts of this night and I awoke the next morning to a man getting ready for work.
I drove home in the morning heat thinking about all the reasons why these men wanted me. Why was I their selection? My double life had started to puzzle me and made me feel a slight bit lost with myself. When truthfully, I had all the answers.
- I am quitting my job tomorrow because the people I work with are the utmost rudest and petty people I have ever met or had the opportunity to work with in my entire life.
- My love life has been the biggest joke since 1990’s “Wheres the beef” slogan.
- I just had my first soda in 2 weeks
- iBroke the back side of my iPhone tonight
- I am paranoid with my car.
- I just procrastinated.
- I really want to get my eyebrows done tomorrow.