Guy #53 – Nipples.

Wikipedia says the following about nipples:

Because the “female template” is the default for humans, the question is not why evolution has not selected against male nipples, but why it would be advantageous to select against male nipples to begin with.

Personally I never had a thing for nipples, regardless of what gender they belong to. I never enjoyed a Guy biting mine, no matter how tenderly he tried it.

Except this one time with Guy #53.
Well, two times actually.

Guy #53 was the type that spent a respectable amount of hours in the gym.  He took good care of his body. I could tell he was good at taking care of his body, because he took good care of mine too.

What should I make for dinner?
Did Hitler really have only one testicle?
Is it cauli flower or cauliflower?

Those are the kind of thoughts that fill my mind during mediocre sex. The better the sex, the less I think about Hitler’s testicle.

The moment someone starts giving my nipples some teeth action, gravity kicks in and I crash land back on Earth, in the here and now. Nipple action makes me want to abandon sex. No matter how gentle, nipple pain serves no evolutionary purpose. Wikipedia says so.

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Yet for some reason Guy #53 knew exactly what made me feel good. We didn’t have a very strong connection, but he was simply incredibly good at lovemaking. His actions were very considerate but equally focused on his target: Me.

So when he started doing his routine on my nipples, gravity did not show up for work.

Guy #53 visited me in my hotel room on two occasions. The second one was the best, because I got to spend a few days looking forward to it.

In terms of sex dates, Guy #53 was probably the best I ever had. The sex defied gravity and there was no emotional bond to worry about.

I hope for his sake he also became skilled in letting gravity do its work. Part of me wanted to get to know Guy #53 better. It just wasn’t on my mind while I was caught up in his teeth action. That’s how good he was. At everything. Twice.

Dates like the ones with Guy #53 make you feel less silly for hooking with random Guys. My sex dates generally featured a lot of social awkwardness. This time the word social was wholly and exclusively expressed in the sex. It was everything a sex date should be and, more importantly, it wasn’t what it shouldn’t be.
I remember nothing of our conversations. The only thing I do remember is how satisfied I felt afterward.

Guy #53 had made me thankful for my nipples.



Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 2 x 2 hours
FORMAT: Sex dates
SEX SCORE (0 = Hitler’s testicle <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 9.8

Guy #49 – Knocking on heaven’s door…




In October of 2009 I landed a job that required me to spend a few months in Madison, Wisconsin. I was given a car, a hotel room, a laptop and a salary. In return I had to spend my days in a classroom getting a basic feel for the software my employer developed.

I did get a basic understanding of how computers work.

I also got gonorrhea.

If you give a predatory gay guy a hotel room, a laptop, a car and money, he will thrive like Donald Trump at a KKK rally. Getting dates in Wisconsin is easy when you have a car, money and a hotel room at your disposal.,,,,, and Facebook were but a few of the online places where one could get gonorrhea in 2009. Like I said, I had gotten a basic understanding of how computers work.

Guy #49 was as lovely as he was hot. Of all the Guys I had browsed in the Madison area he was by far the cutest, so I hooked up with him first. We had a great evening in my hotel room. He even spent the night with me. I love falling asleep in someone’s arms, even if they belong to a stranger.

When this stranger called me a week later I was thrilled, expecting an invitation for a second date. Why else would someone call me after spending the night with me?
“I’ve been having this weird painful feeling in my ass for a few days,” Guy #49 told me over the phone. It struck me as an odd choice of words to initiate a second date. He continued by saying he had seen a doctor and that he had been diagnosed with gonorrhea.

I had never disobeyed the rules of safe sex, but I guess I did bend them on a few occasions, such as that time with Guy #49. Gays often don’t use a condom when they knock on heaven’s door.

At the advice of Guy #49 I made a doctor’s appointment.
However, before I even made it to a doctor peeing became as frequent as it became hurtful and my penis started secreting slimy stuff as if it was auditioning for a role in Ghostbusters.

I’m all for gay pride, but I didn’t feel much of it when I pulled down my pants in front of my doctor and a nurse.
Two days after that glorious moment I called Guy #49.
“So I tested positive for gonorrhea too,” I said.
“Well, I’m glad we both know now.”
What followed was a conversation in which we both stated it didn’t matter who had given gonorrhea to whom, even though we both thought we had gotten it from each other.

Guy #49 made me realize how lucky I am not to have been born 20 years earlier, when AIDS consumed a generation, or 20 years later, when antibiotics may no longer be effective as they have been for me. 20 years earlier and I might not have lived past the 1980s. 20 years later and I would have spent a lifetime peeing in agony.

These days a lot of gay guys do more than just knocking on heaven’s door without a condom. Nearly everybody claims to practice nothing but safe sex, yet whenever you get down to it you’ll find that a shockingly large number of people are willing to make an ‘exception’ for you. I don’t think safe sex is the standard anymore.

Sometimes I wonder if there will be another generation of gay guys traumatized by a disease they alone appear to be vulnerable for. Knocking on heaven’s door might not be that much of a metaphor ten years from now.

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Guy #49 and I never had a second date. Gonorrhea is simply more disgusting than casual sex is pleasurable. Seriously, I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone to be grossed out by their own penis.

It took me one pill to shed the disease from me. Regardless, I felt shame being part of a statistic, a certain group of people that gets an STD. I even felt shame toward my employer. It’s not that I ever told my boss about my Ghostbusters audition, but I did feel bad getting gonorrhea at his expense.

Also, I had to refrain from having sex for a while. Suddenly the hotel room, the car, the laptop and the money had lost their value.

I did learn a lot more about how computers work though.



Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 8 hours, followed by two awkward phone conversations
FORMAT: Intimate sleepover
SEX SCORE (0 = Gonorrhea <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 8.7


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