Guy #111 lived in with his landlord, an 84 four year old friend who had somewhere else to be that night.
The house was what you’d expect from someone old enough to dislike Germans for a reason. I found myself on the set of Downton Abbey with one of the cuter looking footmen as my only company.
While it was beyond obvious Guy #111 and I would end up having sex, we postponed it for a good half hour by means of conversation. His landlord came up a lot. Guy #111 was about my age and it struck me as odd an 84 year old landlord would play such an important role in his life.
It’s not that I have anything against old people, but I don’t look for them on Grindr, the same way I don’t watch Youtube for the ads. But from what I could tell Guy #111 and his landlord did all sorts of friend stuff together. It did not occur to me once his landlord was also his boyfriend.
Like most people, I skip the ads whenever possible.
I remember it being somewhat of a turnoff whenever Guy #111 mentioned his 84 year old friend. The main reason I initiated foreplay was to get my footman to stop talking.
We ended up in his bedroom soon after the talking stopped.
For the first twenty minutes or so I was well on my way to making the sex yet another slightly above average satisfying memory, until the bedroom door opened and man a walked in, an old man, like an 84 year old landlord. I grabbed hold of the nearest sheets to cover myself and then I noticed: Guy #111 did not try to hide his nakedness. He did not feel caught.
“This is Lennard,” Guy #111 said casually, after which his very old friend stepped forward and extended his hand. I actually shook it, even though by that time I had already figured out how Guy #111 paid the rent.
Guy #111 was a recruiter, sent out by his landlord to scour the land for fresh meat. I realized I was tonight’s special the moment the old and wrinkled landlord did not let go of my hand, as he smiled at me like a kid waking up in a candy store.
It agonizes me when Youtube shoves a 20 second toothbrush commercial down my throat. Likewise, it pissed me off Guy#111 and his sugarpope had orchestrated this little get together. I understand it’s difficult to find fresh meat at 84, but trickery is never the answer. It’s just not sexy, not even on wizards.
To their credit, Guy #111 and his boyfriend were quick to gauge my reaction and didn’t press me into a threesome from which I would never recover. The old man politely greeted me before he left the room again, leaving me with Guy #111 and the thought that somewhere in the house there was an 84 year old man who had seen my penis.
“So your landlord is gay then?” I asked.
Guy #111 explained his landlord had been in the closet for most of his life and that he enjoyed having a young gay man living in his house. I didn’t ask any further, but quietly assumed Guy #111 let his landlord crash all of his dates and wondered if seeing a penis was considered a success in their eyes, or if the landlord had hoped to get in on the fun.
After Guy #111 and I were done I very much wanted to go home. I was offered to spend the night, but the house had become spooky to me, knowing it had an old man wandering around at night, walking in on people having sex. It did not sit well with me how Guy #111 and his boyfriend had manipulated me. It had this The call is coming from inside the house-vibe to it.
When I was clothed and ready to go I carefully navigated myself to the front door, constantly ready for something unexpected, the hand of an 84 year old man, the smell of chloroform, anything. I didn’t run into anyone when Guy #111 showed me out. Yet it wasn’t until I was out on the street that I felt relief.
My footman hit me up online a couple of times afterward. Each time he did I was reminded of his haunted house where old men look at penises.
Ghosting never felt more appropriate as it did in the case of Guy #111.