the.applied.process.

wit. honesty. everyday ramblings.

Tag: std

06.06.2011

Grind Date No. 1: Road Head.

In my never ending quest for equal opportunity and the unique, I started my new project. Dating shenanigans indeed.

I arrived to London last Friday evening, and as soon as I got wifi I logged into every gay man’s best friend: grindr. Soon enough, after sifting through all the headless torsos, I saw a picture of a guy who looked very British and very… east London I suppose. He had a catchy headline. I sent him a message and moved on. Later that evening he bit the bait. We started chatting. At this point, I didn’t have an agenda. I wasn’t aware that I would embark of this mission, so I just elusively talked expecting nothing.

*a bit of a side note here… for all of you who have no idea what grindr is, I should explain. It is an app that shows you all the gay men around your area (granted they’re logged on as well), with distance, a picture, some stats, and a short tagline. It is mostly used for sex, but I’ve met a few friends through it.*

After a day of conversation, he told me he was in a wheel chair, and asked if that was a problem. Are you kidding me? It’s a bit odd, but it’s also writer’s jackpot, and like I said, I like to be very equal opportunity. Especially since I don’t think I’ll marry most of these guys. A few more messages and we decided to meet. I was to come to his flat on Sunday evening, we would have some wine and food (except I said I was vegetarian so the food got nixed out of the equation), and see where things went. Again, elusive little me was not thinking about sex or anything of the sort, maybe just a snog.

Yesterday evening, I arrived at my rendez vous, a 15 minute walk east of Geordi-Mo’s. First impression? Very British. Very East London. He had a beautiful black little pug named Vivian (or Viv for short) who I started playing with right away. Anyone who knows me knows that dogs come first, second, and last in my life, and will promptly hypnotise me into ignoring the world and scratching their belly.

The conversation went smooth. He got a bit touchy feely and I giggled my way out of his grasp. His p.a. (personal assistant) came out, cooked some food, and opened up a pack of smokes. I asked her for one, and ‘road head’ insisted I smoked by the window instead of going downstair with her. I obliged.

After a few more sips of my wine, I felt somewhat comfortable with this man. We kissed. He tasted a bit odd, but nothing unfamiliar. I have this theory that meat eaters have a certain ‘taste’. He suggested I smoke by the window as he smoked me. I was slightly hesitant, but again, I obliged. It was definitely a first, to have my dick sucked as I was smoking on a balcony, in plain view of the outside world. Kind of a turn on.

We went back inside and he said he wanted me to fuck him, but stated he usually doesn’t do that (normally I call this bullshit but, for some reason, my intuitive persona didn’t feel he was lying). He suggested we get in his bed and see how things go. I offered a hand, he said he wasn’t comfortable, so he asked his p.a. to help him get into bed and then she summoned me into his room. We got in the bed. Kissed. He asked me to rim him. I obliged. He was a bit reluctant to me touching him in certain areas which I assume is understandable for someone with disabilities. He rimmed me (we agreed this is probably the best part of gay sex), and asked if I could cum in his mouth. Again, I was somewhat reluctant, as I have a somewhat strict ‘no swallowing’ policy, even if I’m not the one doing the swallowing, but I felt ok doing so. I came. He swallowed. We kissed a bit more, passed out for a second, woke up, and I took off. He had a dinner with a girl, I had to get back not too late as I am staying with friends who work the next morning.

As soon as I left I received a text. He cursed his dinner and said he enjoyed the company. I got home and found a similar message on grindr. I told my story to my hosts, and went to bed. I woke up a few hours later and started writing this entry. I feel a bit odd, but to be honest, maybe it’s just a case of PCT (post coitum tristesse) and if anything, this little endeavour I’ve taken will assist with managing that. Today I’m off to Birmingham.

Leave a comment
05.06.2011

Where are my ruby slippers?

The thing about human beings is that, unlike most animals, we have an uncanny ability to adapt to our environment. Beasts, on the other hand, have this defense mechanism that psychologically shuts them down when they feel pain and ‘numbs’ them to cope with whatever is outside their control.

In this regard, I’ve often related to our less intelligent fellow life forms. While I am very adaptable, and it is known that us Pisces are amongst the, if not THE, most adaptable zodiac sign, I’ve also read that we are the most intuitive and pick up on all the energy and mood around us to the point where it can be overwhelming. Hence, the shutdown.

Last night, after some predrinking at my mate’s flat, I was out and about in Vauxhall. It was four of us. One of us, ‘no-boro’, I had just met. Nice guy. Somewhat into me.

Upon arriving at the club (the eagle), we ran into three friends of them. A short, spunky, somewhat attractive half spaniard; a sexy, tattooed, somewhat dirty looking ‘my type’; and a plain, blue-shirt wearing, somewhat forgettable whatshisface. We processed to grab drinks, smoke, and dance when I was made aware ‘no-boro’ was into me. He was a handsome man, however, and not that this changes much of my usual modus operandi, I was also made aware of some info that enhanced my usual m.o. I wasn’t an asshole, I just had a slight freak out, and started to watch my drinking. I wanted to be clear headed enough to act along my m.o. and not against it. Then I was told that ‘my type’, ‘no-socks brit’, was also inquiring about me. Again, not that I strayed from my usual m.o. but I suddenly felt twice as concerned with keeping a quasi-sober mind. And the thing here is that recently, I’d say in the past 3-4 months, I’ve seriously reconsidered what it means to get drunk, go out, and wake up next to a random stranger. I was never very into it, much to the shock of my fellow dick craving homosexuals, but especially in the past few months, after a stupid incident with a bit too much drinking, a stranger, and a ripped condom (I’m completely fine and healthy btw), I’ve just gotten significantly more paranoid/careful, and am not willing to risk another incident like that, because even if it feels ‘right’ and is completely safe, I can’t necessarily deal with the anxiety my own self creates post-coitum.

So I monitored my alcohol intake, something I should be doing regardless, and focused on controlling my anxiety. Tricky thing here is that usually I drink to control it but also drinking makes it worse. Tried to relax and just have fun, which I eventually managed to do, and enjoyed the rest of my night. I talked to ‘no-boro’ about his dogs, two beautiful schnauzers. Again, lovely guy. I had a couple more drinks, and we headed home, me and my two hosts.

On the way home I was asked why I wouldn’t go for either. Like I said, to be honest, despite anything good or bad about them, it’s just not my m.o. I don’t just ‘go home’ with whoever shows me some ‘love’, even if I might be attracted or interested in them. Is that too bizarre to comprehend? The combination of alcohol, anxiety, and my own damn crazy head started to shut me down. I wanted my ruby slippers to tap them three times and wake up back at the corner of Driggs and North 7th next to ‘Toto’ (my dog). Don’t get me wrong, I’m having fun, my friends are pleasant, but us Pisces sometimes just need to retract to our safe haven. We need some time alone. We need to escape the world, and when that can’t be done physically, we create our own little panic room in our head and go there. Sorry if I seem rude, I’m just refueling and trying to keep my sanity. Cheers.

Leave a comment