Two moments with the same guy, the same night and an air of disappointment from each side.
We had played exactly once before. Then he texted me out of the blue and included a pic in case I forgot what he looked like. I knew. But I still appreciated the pic. Who wouldn't want a hot 30-something guy with a strong jaw outlined by a trim beard, clad in one of probably 50 black muscle T's that has. I don't think I've seen him in pics of anything else. But I remember a majority of the guys I play with and this one stood out anyway because we had smoked out, the first time for me in over five years where pot was inhaled directly into my lungs instead of second hand, through strands languidly swirling in the air and converging into a dense fog impossible to escape at the annual reggae festival or Animal Collective/Panda Bear show. And for the first time, it actually did something for me. It gave me dry mouth. But that was fine, 'cause I had already mentally prepared for a night of just heavy petting. He had made it clear that he wasn't into anything more.
So we texted back and forth for a month before our scheduled finally lined up and we could play again. I ended up at his door, rang his doorbell, and when he answered, it was that first moment of disappointment. You could see it in his eyes even though he tried to be even keeled. It was a flash of surprise, a flicker of recognition, the panic of what to do next and then a tinge of disappointment. Kills my ego to say that but that disappointment was definitely there. That fucker thought I was someone else. In hindsight, his pic to me might have been a prompt for me to send one in return for him to confirm who he was chatting with.
I called him out on it. And we had a good laugh about it. He confirmed it.
"I thought you were my friend, Adam." And by friend he meant fuck-buddy. I called him out on that one too. Nobody accidentally programs a friend's name into a thread of texts from a hookup.
We had a drink and spent an hour trying to recover from the awkwardness in which a lot came out and things finally came together in my head, leading to the second round of disappointments. I realized that we were totally, sexually incompatible. Talk about being bummed out. When he had texted me, I was really eager to meet up again. That first time together ended on a bittersweet note. He basically was begging me to spend the night. It was 2am when I finally creeped out of his bed and into my own. We had spent four hours groping and massaging and things escalated to the point where I fucked my raw bone into him. And I can still remember how he felt. There wasn't much resistance. None at all. And he had that wet, velvety moist heat that some bottoms have that I just can't get enough of. But I could tell he didn't bottom often because I felt his hole throb for a few seconds around my cock. It wasn't resistance. Hell, his hole practically sucked me in, he wanted it so bad. But it did throb in protest. When I hit bottom, he said, "It's not supposed to be like this" in this far-off dreamy voice. Maybe a product of the pot. I had thought it was odd, but I figured he was talking about how he was probably usually the top, kinda having that top guy vibe about him. Or maybe that he was enjoying it more than he had thought. He didn't ask me to stop. Nor made any move to try to make me stop. And I just luxuriated in feeling his heat from the inside.
But that was then. After talking to him this second round, I finally realized what he meant. He was deathly afraid of cock and of ass, and of mouths even. Bacteria. Micro-organisms. Disease. He was referring to the fact that we were supposed to only go as far as massage and mutual masturbation. Hell, he even thought kissing was disgusting. And even though his body craved it, his mind couldn't handle it. And when I put that all together, that's when I let out a sigh of disappointment. This time, from my end.
Oh, well. He did try to nonchalantly pass me off to his whore of a best friend. I guess that was kinda nice of him from a really odd perspective. I appreciate the intent. I think...
