A question I get asked on a daily basis is whether I’m top or bottom. At times it’s the first thing that comes up in conversation.
I’m sure some kind of Kindsey-scale could be attributed to the top-bottom continuum, but the truth is it’s impossible to predict who ends up on top. It all depends on who you’re with.
Guy #132 was with the navy.
He looked the part.
Guy #132 radiated a boyish manliness that, combined with his perky smile, made you wonder how they managed to even keep Don’t ask don’t tell going for that long.
Being a marine, my date had seen places, things, events even. He was the kind of Guy you’d want to be with when your car breaks down in the middle of the desert. In porn, he would have been the John McTame to my Nakatomi building. He had this sturdy clumsiness about him that befitted a Guy harvesting a primitive sex drive, someone who could let himself be owned by his own instinct.
One could say I dug Guy #132’s sexual energy as he offered me a glass of water. He wasn’t even that attractive. He didn’t need to be, which somehow made him even more attractive. We engaged in one of those conversations we both knew was only a formality standing in between us and the bedroom and I was comfortable in the knowledge he would take charge and be the first to put away his drink to kiss me.
He did, which made it all the more surprising he quickly turned out to be a total bottom.
It’s not that I don’t know what to do with the body of a marine, but part of me couldn’t shake the thought You’re a soldier. Conquer me!
It was hardly a punishment to own a marine for a night, but I did feel like the sex hadn’t lived up to its image.
We met up on two occasions. On our second date he withheld the formalities altogether and went straight to sex. He knew exactly what he wanted, how he wanted it and what he needed to do to get it. It had this manly pragmatism to it that empowered enough potential to own a harem, yet again, when push came to shove, I had to push.
Seeing that much surrender embedded in the sexuality of this army person it was comforting to know Don’t ask don’t tell isn’t a thing anymore. In that sense I can proudly argue I did my part making my country combat ready. Twice. On two occasions.
I lost interest in Guy #132 the moment he brought up the subject of fisting. I guess I’m not that much of a patriot.
LENGTH: 2 x 90 minutes
FORMAT: Sex dates
SEX SCORE (0 = Patriotism <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 8