Guy #134 – Shame…

Guy #134 made me realize something.

Car sex is depressing, if not depressingly impractical.

Though I would go on to have pleasurable car sex with Guy #139 a while later, I do believe the idea of car sex sprouted from a lack of options. Sometimes finding a bed to have sex on can be a logistical nightmare. Sometimes a car ends up being the closest thing to a motel room. Sometimes dating is just sad that way.

Guy #134 nor I were capable of hosting a private sex fest. We did discuss the possibility of a motel, but as my date was lamenting his financial situation I realized he was driving toward this one remote parking spot I knew of. Being in a frugal mood as well, I accepted it.

The two of us had sent each other pictures of our naked selves. In anticipation of our date I had imagined us doing the usual fun stuff, like kissing and undressing each other, discovering our nakedness through foreplay. Instead, within seconds of engine shutdown Guy #134 treated me to a hasty French kiss that quickly went south and ended up at third base, where it stayed for the remainder of our date.

While Guy #134 definitely deserves credit for being good at his job, I was mostly occupied with staring out the window, carefully monitoring the movement of distant silhouettes of people and other cars, unable to fully shake the sadness of my situation.

Toward the end of our little parking lot extravaganza I saw two people passing within 50 feet of our car. I could swear one of them was looking straight at me, pushing down Guy #134’s head to make sure it didn’t appear in and out of view all the time.

Guy #139 and I would later have sex in a car at broad daylight and it truly was a little paradise by the dashboard light. Guy #139 was so hot and friendly and handsome and ribbed and on all counts the most beautiful Guy I ever had sex with up till now, I didn’t mind getting caught with him. Guy #134 to me was so much more unremarkable in so many ways the thought of people seeing me with him filled me with shame. It’s not that Guy #134 wasn’t cute. He simply wasn’t special enough for me to take risks for. Preceded by 133 other Guys, a lesbian and a stripper, Guy #134 just didn’t have it in him to excite me the way he might have had he been a two digit number.

Guy #134 and I reached peak shame on our ride home, when post orgasmic sobriety filled the car. I wasn’t raised to get blowjobs from unremarkable strangers in their cars, so I couldn’t help but resent myself a little. One might even say I felt like a cheap whore. I have no idea how Guy #134 postured himself from the moment my pants came back on. All I know is the car was eerily silent and our goodbye as uninspired as our first and only kiss had been.

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Our home being a small Caribbean island, Guy #134 and I ran into each other several times over the next few years. We would always shake hands, but never engage in conversation, not even when we turned out to have mutual friends and at one point even a mutual ex. My guess is Guy #134 had felt my shame as well. It had made our date awkward and unrewarding and it had consumed our entire relationship.

Shame.


Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 2 years
FORMAT: One time car date followed by occasional obligatory handshake
SEX SCORE (0 = A Sigmund Freud action figure <–> 10 = The best sex ever):
3

Guy #55 – Post-orgasmic cam session cool down.

When it comes to technology I always lag behind.
I survived the 1990s without internet. I didn’t get my first cell phone until 2002. I held on to this Nokia heavyweight until 2012, when Guy #115 gave me my first smartphone out of pity.

I was among the last privileged white people to go on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

Technology in itself doesn’t repel me. I’ll buy it when I need it, not a moment sooner. If a trend is lasting it will find its way to me eventually.

By the end of 2009 I started exploring the world of MSN. To me it was like talking, only with fingers and usually not with people I knew.

Some conversations I had on MSN were okay, most were boring and pointless.

Until one day Guy #55 told me my laptop had a webcam.

Guy #55 was about 4000 miles away from me. I have no idea how we got to talking with each other, but the short version of the not so long story is that we ended up showing off our masturbatory skills in front of our respective webcams.

Cam sex was interesting.

I knew I would never make the effort to meet let alone do Guy #55 in real life. That made everything I said about how turned on I was a bit of a bright white lie.

A bright white lie in this case is typing something like I want to feel that cock inside of me so bad right now while in reality I was thinking It´s frustrating to type with only one hand. Why aren´t laptops with webcams ergonomically prepared for people engaging in cam sex? Surely the inventors of the web cam knew what it was going to be used for? It’s impossible to masturbate and type at the same time. Both require a completely different posture. So you either have to constantly interrupt what you’re doing or clumsily type with one hand while your eyes are mostly focused on seeing what the other Guy is doing.

Cam sex requires a lot of multitasking for a man.

The reason I engaged in a long distance cam session with Guy #55 was that I had never done it before. Like I said: I never look for technology. It always finds its way to me and when it does I usually end up feeling clumsy and incapable at first.

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In fact, few situations are more awkward than a post-orgasmic cam session cool down with a stranger. There’s no cuddling, just plain naked awkwardness and still only one hand to type with. Figure out why.

;)

That’s what I ended up typing after Guy #55 and I had both cammed what we came for.
;) was the best lie I could do on one hand. I wanted to close my laptop and take a shower, but even at 4000 miles I chose to stay polite.

The most exciting part of ‘being’ with Guy #55 was actually the realization we live in an age where we can transmit our naked selves over thousands of miles. For free. As someone with vivid memories of the 1980s the technology was more exciting than Guy #55 itself.

They should design webcams that automatically fade to black five seconds after coming. It would have been the most honest way to progress my relationship with Guy #55: I honestly wanted it to be stopped dead in its tracks and never to be spoken of.

Instead Guy #55 and I ended up chatting for a while. I was despising my own politeness.

Guy #55 started insisting on meeting one day.

After our first and only online encounter he would regularly hit me up on my dating profiles. It’s not that I didn’t like him. He was just immensely focused on meeting up with me. It became a bit of a problem a few weeks later, when I moved back to our common home country, where distance is often measured in feet.

Politeness never ends in a spectacular fashion. I simply kept responding less and less to his messages, until I ignored him completely, regardless of how close we were. It has been well over two years since he tried to hit me up online.

I just realized that means he kept on trying for four years straight. Perhaps that means I wasn’t as clumsy as I felt.

I guess I’m better at technology than I give myself credit for.

 


 

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 4 years
FORMAT: ;)
SEX SCORE (0 = Onion flavored toothpaste <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 2.5