12 August 2010

Give it Back

No good can come out of hooking-up late night. I mean come on: it's like being at last call and the only ones left there are you, the bartender, and the troll you made fun of with your friends all of whom have long gone with their Mr. Right-Nows - it's just a simile, it's never happened to me. Just sayin'. But when I get that primal, even guttural urge to get my rocks off, it's no holds barred, people. Not to bring some dime store psychology into it, but I think men - gay or straight, masculine or feminine acting - have a natural need to fuck. Throw two men together? Thank god we can't get knocked up.

One night I met this guy "Pat." It was so god-awful late that one of the compromises I had for him was if he took a cab to my place, I would drive him back home before I had to head into work in the morning. He agreed, but the only request he made was that there would be porn playing while we fooled around.

"Pat" was a young twenty-two year old, seven years my junior. Red headed fellow with a nervous/shy demeanor, but then again, who wouldn't be when a relatively older guy was leching on him at 3 in the morning? He came to the apartment, shook my hand and went straight into my room. As promised, a porno was playing and quickly the clothes came flying off. I have to say there was a certain nostalgia with this particular pornographic stimulator. It was the first porn I ever bought and the only porn I keep in my DVD player, ready to press play. (Thank you, Falcon.)

We made out, we caressed and fondled, and we had sex. Now, for some reason I am not one to be nervous about some stranger sleeping in my bed, sleeping in my home. My one friend tosses and turns and eventually kicks the guy out - no matter what the time. Rather, I passed out and like clockwork, I got up at 6am, showered and dressed. When I came back to my room, I was hesitant to wake the guy up: he looked so peaceful and serene playing with the sandman. Nonetheless, I looked at the time, woke him up, drove him home and headed to work.

Later that week, I fancied a little rub-out session on my own. [cue Barry White music] I laid out a towel on my bed, emptied out the contents on my treasure chest of fun: dildo and lube. I proceeded to turn on the TV and DVD player. DAMNIT! The fucker stole my porn!

Point of the conversation: Don't leave a trick alone in your house - EVER.

- DeeCue

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