Guy #104 – Best pity sex ever.

Sexting.
Like smelling your fingers or wanting to kill your neighbor, sexting is one of those common things people rarely talk about in public. In the land of sexting everybody has libidos that last all night, cum spreads like supernovae and penises stay erect till the end of time.

Sexting often doesn’t lead to an actual date, perhaps because it’s kind of silly and everyone involved knows too many superlatives can only result in disappointment.

Guy #104 was my most memorable exception in that respect.
The two of us got in touch on a dating site and quickly entered a conversation that read like a porn script. Unlike most sexting partners, Guy #104 seemed genuinely interested in meeting up with me, which is why we set a date at his place.

That’s when he got down with the flu. Usually people get down with the flu as a polite way of saying On second thought, I don’t want you in my house, but Guy #104 insisted we’d meet a week later.

A week later he still had the flu.

The thing with sexting is it’s kind of like sex itself: It can’t go on forever. Eventually Guy #104 and I started talking about other stuff, most notably about the fact he stayed in flu mode for so long.

As Guy #104 revealed more and more of his symptoms I realized he probably didn’t have the flu, but Acute HIV Infection. Not wanting to burden him with my hypochondria, I didn’t tell him about my suspicions at first.
But when another week passed during which his flu didn’t, Guy #104 told me he had seen a doctor who also deemed HIV the most likely culprit. Shortly after his test came back positive.

Needless to say Guy #104 was devastated. Like so many gay Guys he had barebacked his way through a recent date and subsequently became part of that statistic no one wants to be a part of.

There’s no arousal to be found in a sentence like Hm, yeah, Ima slide that condom on so hard. That’s why in the land of sexting the hypothetical sex is always a bareback extravaganza. Guy #104 and I had sexted each other about doing stuff some people get AIDS from. Now he knew he would never be able to do any of that stuff with anyone ever.

What started off as a lighthearted sexting session eventually took the form of therapy. Guy #104’s world was pretty much shattered and he could only confide in a sexting stranger.

Perhaps his biggest issue was he now felt unattractive. HIV simply isn’t a popular niche. It lets everybody know you barebacked one too many times. Guy #104 had trouble accepting Guys could still be attracted to him. So I told him I’d take him up on our date, saying I would gladly show him HIV was not a turn off for me.

We met sometime after his symptoms had disappeared. We spoke a lot about him having to adjust to his new status. He struck me as relieved, having taken comfort in the fact it’s not the death sentence it used to be.

It’s not uncommon for me to take on the role of therapist on dates, but never as much as with Guy #104. I actually enjoyed being able to offer him a sense of comfort.

It was during sex I felt his relief the most. It was his first time after testing positive and it was nice to see him enjoy himself.
For me the sex wasn’t great though. Guy #104 wasn’t really the kind of hot I had seen on his selfies and besides HIV we didn’t have much else to talk about. There wasn’t that much of a connection to be celebrated, but maybe that’s because I took on the role of therapist, even during sex.
Still, Guy #104 made me feel like a good therapist. It was definitely the best pity sex I ever had.

9

The two of us met on three or four occasions. He was the kind of friend that would say ‘Hi’ each time I popped online on Skype. I am however not a very sociable person when I’m not having sex.
I could tell I meant something to Guy #104 and was very happy to have been there for him, but I never intended to be there for him forever: The better the therapist, the quicker his patients don’t need him anymore.
And of course I get immensely annoyed by people that say ‘Hi’ on Skype.

Ghosting someone always comes with a pinch of guilt. I simply suck at rejecting people. It would have been courteous of me to let him know I was happy to have been of help, but that I had given him all the help I could have. Instead I stayed silent until, eventually, Skype did.

I eased my guilt by figuring Guy #104 would take comfort in the fact that, whatever my reason for ghosting him, HIV wasn’t it.

I imagine he’s been happily sexting since.

 


 

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 4 months
FORMAT: Sexting turned therapy
SEX SCORE (0 = That thing with Freud and wanting to do your mother <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 7.8

Guy #57 (Part 2) – Me and my Wikipedia…

Did I mention Guy #57 and I had unprotected sex?

Well, we did. Many times.

It was about a week after our last date when I found out he was dating someone else. I was devastated.
A few days later, I woke up in the middle of the night with the highest fever I ever had. Going delirious on a broken heart is the absolute worst way to lie awake at night.

The next morning I was on Wikipedia matching my symptoms with possible diseases. Of all possible diagnoses, Acute HIV Infection stood out as the most perfect match.

In my heart I knew I was about to become part of a statistic, that small percentage of Gay guys no gay wants to be a part of.

It was impossible to hide my symptoms from my mother. I needed half a day to recuperate from climbing the stairs. Knowing my mother to be the same hypochondriac as I am, I knew she was just as terrified as I was. Not for HIV specifically, but for whatever disease could have possibly struck her son.

I knew being HIV positive would be better than getting leukemia or some other lethal Wikipedia article. At the same time I was most afraid of having to tell my mother that her son had come down with a case of HIV. I didn’t even go there in our conversations. I acted cool and did my best to hide my worries. In response, my mother did the same.

When my symptoms didn’t disappear after two weeks I finally went to see a real Wikipedia, my doctor. I started off my consult by telling my doctor I was HIV positive. When I explained what I had done with Guy #57 my doctor more or less agreed that HIV was indeed probable, given my symptoms.

I emailed Guy #57 to say I was being tested for HIV. It wasn’t the kind of email I enjoyed writing to the first Guy I ever fell in love with. Guy #57 never responded on the issue, which made me worry even more.

All in all I spent three weeks being absolutely sure I somehow had to tell my mother I had done that one thing she had advised me not to do with Guys. I spent a lot of time on Wikipedia those weeks, constantly on the lookout for a diagnosis not as bad as HIV. I already pictured myself being surrounded by people acting politically correct toward my HIV status. In my mind it had already become a part of my identity: Oh, that’s uncle Lennard, he’s the gay uncle who has HIV from sticking it up a Guy he dug for a weekend, but we don’t treat him any differently.

I was quick to loathe my new self.

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One of my best phone calls ever came from my doctor, when he called me to say I had a mono infection. I would have jumped in the air, but instead stayed in bed for the next four months.

A mono infection sucks, but those four months were good for me. I watched all eight seasons of 24 in as many days. Things did start to become boring after a week or so. 24 isn’t half as exciting the second time.

A mono infection sucks, but it beat being HIV positive. I could tell my mother was equally relieved. Upon hearing the news my mother and I hugged each other, that’s how glad I was I didn’t have to talk about her son and his bareback escapades.

A mono infection sucks, but some people get other calls from their doctor. I’m not sure what’s worse: Thinking you’re HIV positive or knowing you’re HIV positive.

For those that know, I hope the latter is better.