01 August 2011

It's not all about the Lips

It is often said you can tell a lot about your compatibility with someone when you have your first kiss with them. Previously I discovered that this is not always the case.

A couple of years ago, a large group of us were headed to the nearest gay bar. A surprisingly decent place that had cheap drinks, a large dance floor and a revolving door of attractive people. Perfect for fresh faced horny students. For a time I had had my eye on one particular guy. A regular of our going out group, but not actually one of my friends beyond this. Endeavouring to get know him 'better', I turned up the flirtation and pursued.

And it seemed the gods favoured me that evening as by midnight our lips we're heavily locked (or the 10+ vodkas and a dose of poppers were what clinched it, I'll let you be the judge). And boy did this boy know how to kiss. Passionate, firm and soft all at once. It set me a-fire and I wanted more. For whatever reason that I have long since forgotten, we did not end up in bed that evening.

In the week that followed, we flirtated briefly over Facebook/MSN and the signs were positive. The following Friday we were all back at the same club. Naturally it didn't take too long before me and this guy were relocked into our familiar but still very pleasurable lip embrace. This time I knew I had to have in my bed, Fortunately whether by chance or sly drunken planning by several individuals (I discovered the next morning I was not the only one with a plan to bed certain people that night), a good group of us ended up having a post drinking party back at our flat.

By this point it's 4am and everyone is truly hammered. Running out of alcohol, we're down to quaffing shots of pure vodka. As people began to pair and drift off, me, the guy and two other guys are just left in a friends room. Shots and frequent bouts of making out are still had. Pass what the other guys must have thought as me and the guy practically forgot they were there and made out like there was no tomorrow. And it was hot. I mean really ball busting hot.

Eventually we pry ourselves away and go into my room. I have him pinned against my wardrobe, our tongues probing each other mouths. After a while he says he should leave. I ask him if he wants to stay over. He says yes. Brilliant I think! But then... Oh dear. The first hint something is not quite as it is.

He says: "Can I blindfold you with a scarf?". My immediate thought was basically 'WTF?!' but being drunk, horny and wanting to bed him I replied 'Yeah okay'. I'm not against a bit of kink and perhaps he was just very into it I thought, So he blindfolds me with one on my scarves and lays me down on the bed. The fun begins.

We kiss, take each other clothes off and get down to it, him on top. After he blows me for a while I decide to return the favour. Now considering how drunk I was at this point, it had failed to register in my mind that I had not once felt his dick. Not when grinding on the dancefloor or making out in my friends room or groping against my wardrobe. Perhaps that should have set an alarm bell ringing but it didn't. I wish it had.

So, he's sat atop of me and I move my hand down towards his nether regions expectantly. I get there and my hands fail to grasp anything. Where my hand was I should have at least been feeling something. But no, nothing. Disconcerted, I moved my hand to his stomach and move my hand down south and, aha!, I find it. And I feel it. And I mentally gasp in shock.

This guy was not big, he was not slightly bigger than average of even average. Nor was he small and thick. He was small, as in really small, and thin. My fingers held his cock (my palm was of no use) and it I was literally afraid any vigorous action could snap it. It felt like a 2B pencil. And now I realised why he wanted to blindfold me. It wasn't for kink, it was to hide this. I'm no size queen but dammit I need something to work with.

With that, the mood was gone. All sorts of horrific/hilarious thoughts were flashing through my mind and I was too drunk to even care to bother to feign interest. I withdrew my hands and took my scarf off. It was pitch dark so he had also turned the lights off (a good thing in hindsight since if I had seen it my ability to keep a straight face would have been severely tested). I don't know if he had senses my lack of interest but he laid back and finished himself off whilst I sat and intermittently rubbed his legs.

It seemed to work for him.

Afterwards he quickly dressed and left, leaving me shocked and bemused. We didn't speak much after that, and kissed again only once a few weeks later (alcohol again). I just couldn't handle it.

Incidentally around 6 months later he was in a relationship, and that lasted for about 2 years. Whether he found someone who was of similar size or someone who just didn't care was a question we pondered for sometime.

Point of the conversation: Just because someone ticks all the boxes on the lips, it does not mean they will not come up short elsewhere.

- James.B.

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