Fifty Shades of Gay

Being stood-up by someone is probably the most humiliating and defeating experience one can experience in the dating world. It had happened to me several times before, but this time hurt the most.

I had been chatting with a man named Roberto through Growlr, and I ended the conversation by giving him my number. I did this, because it’s much easier to text people than to continue communicating through an app that kills your phone battery. Much to my surprise, though, he called me later that evening. To be fair, he wasn’t a Millennial like me. Roberto was comfortable with calling a stranger rather than hiding behind a screen.

We didn’t talk for long. Honestly, he probably just wanted to hear my voice to make sure I didn’t sound like a psychopath. And when we wrapped up the conversation, he mentioned that he had to turn in early to get up early for a conference in the morning. I asked him where the conference was being held, because I work in corporate meeting planning and care about stuff like that.

As fate would have it, the conference was being held at the very hotel I work at. Romantic images from the movie “Serendipity” flooded my imagination. This had to be a sign! We were mutually excited that we would actually be seeing each other in person the very next day.

I texted him in the morning, and we set up a little rendezvous on property to officially meet.

“You’re even more handsome than I thought you would be,” he said, charmingly.
“Oh, no, it’s just the suit,” I said, unable to take a compliment. He looked amazing, mostly because he was one of those people who actually enjoys working out and lifting heavy things. His muscles were barely contained by his dress shirt.

We chatted and flirted lightly for a little while before he had to return to session. And we agreed to head out for lunch together later to get some privacy.

I drove him to one of my favorite cafés, and we had an absolutely perfect time getting to know each other better. We cut right to the chase and discussed what we were looking for in a significant other. It was a match made in heaven, or so it seemed.

Roberto placed his hand on my thigh as we drove back to the hotel. I purposely pulled into a parking spot in the corner of our lot that was somewhat out of view. I moved his hand to my crotch and made out with him shamelessly until he had to return to his colleagues.

We continued to text each other throughout the day, both half-assing our way through work responsibilities. I wanted more time with him, so I asked if he would be interested in meeting me out for a drink later that night. People often say “a drink” when they really mean “many drinks”, I’ve come to find. I had fallen into the same habit.

I beautified myself at home and headed out to my favorite gay bar. It was relatively quiet in there, being that it was a weeknight. I think it’s rude to invite a date out to someplace loud where you can’t even hear each other. Maybe I’m just getting old. But, ultimately, it would not matter. Roberto never showed up.

When I came to realize the fate of my evening, the bartender couldn’t help but notice my sorrow. He poured me my usual drink – a double vodka soda. An older transgender woman next to me somehow knew my plight.

“What’s the matter, honey, get stood up?” she asked sympathetically.
“Yep…”
“Don’t worry about it, he was going to drop you like a rock anyway. He’s not the right guy for you. You haven’t met him yet, but you will be much more domesticated by this time next year. You’ll see.”

I kept my head down, unsure of how to respond. She was spouting out some kind of intuitive bullshit I wasn’t in the mood to hear. She may have been right, but it didn’t matter to me in that moment. I thanked her politely and moved to a small table to be left alone with my thoughts.

My pity party for one was quickly interrupted by a boisterous woman – a butch lesbian.
“You got quarters for pool?” she asked loudly.
“Yeah, sure.” I grabbed a dollar out of my wallet. “The bartender will give you change.”
“Thanks! You wanna play?”

I didn’t want to play, really, but I thought it might make me feel better. I used to be quite the billiards man back in Vegas. Maybe it would take my mind off of the rejection I would otherwise continue to dwell on.

We got the balls rolling, so to speak, and it didn’t take long for me to realize she was far too drunk to accomplish much of anything on the table. Yet she somehow felt it necessary to critique every single shot of mine and even endeavored to make herself my coach. She lost, of course, and insisted on playing another round.

“I’m gonna go outside and find someone with a cigarette,” I said, hoping it would steer her away from me. Much to my chagrin, she followed me out to the patio and waved down a group of her supposed friends.
“Let’s just sit with them!” she shouted. Volume control was lost to her, though I wasn’t entirely convinced she sounded any differently sober.

I was reluctant to sit down at first until my eyes fell upon a handsome bearded Mexican man that was right up my alley. He gave me the seductive eye as I strategically placed myself next to him.

“What’s your name?” he asked, curling his upper lip. His eyes sparkled like diamonds through a cloud of smoke. The rest of the table disappeared to us as we had our sights locked onto each other like targets.

“You doing anything tonight? You wanna come over to my place?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah, sure, that would be great.” I wasn’t quite as cool and collected.
“Oh, it’s just so easy for you gays, isn’t it?” the lesbian girl blurted out, perhaps attempting to ruin the moment – a failed wedge.

I followed Alex back to his place where he would introduce me to the duplex he shared with his brother. Although we were both intoxicated, he poured us a round of drinks – strong drinks. We sat on the front patio shooting the breeze, joined by Alex’s brother, his wife, and a group of raucous dogs. Indistinguishable music played quietly in the background as we all slipped further down the rabbit hole of inebriation.

Alex stood up suddenly, as if something had just occurred to him. He walked through the door leading to his side of the house.

“Is he going to bed?” I asked Alex’s brother.
“Probably. You should too,” he said, winking.

I hadn’t yet been shown this side of the home, so I wandered aimlessly for a bit before finding Alex naked on a bed. His eyes followed me as I approached him, and with a silent nod he commanded me to remove my own clothing – I did not disobey.

He passed me a bottle of poppers, and I inhaled liberally. A familiar buzz filled my head as I brought my lips to his. We made out intensely, his teeth biting me every so often. I could feel his erection throbbing against me. I thirsted for it to be in my mouth. He stood up and I ran my tongue down his body.

“Yeah, suck it,” he said, pushing his cock to the back of my throat. He had a firm grip on my hair to the point where I worried he might rip it out. I tried to pull back to get some air, but he shoved my head down mercilessly. My vision started to tunnel and blacken.

“This is it,” I thought to myself. “This is what I get for going home to a stranger. No one knows where I am. I’ve messed up. He’s going to choke me to death.” Adrenaline pumped through my veins, but he was just too strong for me to overcome.
But suddenly, he stopped. I gasped for oxygen to fill my innocent lungs.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. The game had changed. He wasn’t trying to kill me after all; he was just into some kinky shit. I got up and wrestled him down onto his bed. Herculean strength surged through me as we rolled around naked fighting each other. It was more a competition than a sexual encounter. I managed to flip him onto his stomach and held him down by the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah?” he said, trying to squirm out of my grip. I pushed down harder.
“Yeah.” I spit into my free hand and lubricated us both. I penetrated him deeply on the first thrust, and the fight was over. Alex surrendered to his submissive side and positioned his ass upward to be fucked forcefully while he jerked off. The sound of our flesh colliding echoed against the walls.

“Fuck the cum out of me!” he screamed, placing his hands to reach a push-up position. I was surprised how naturally this role came to me, as I had never been so sexually aggressive in my life. It felt good to hold power over someone, while knowing they were in ecstasy. I pounded him harder until he had no choice but to orgasm, hands-free.

Alex collapsed onto the bed, and I stood up, panting like a beast. I didn’t feel like myself, but this was exactly what I needed after being stood up by Roberto. Alex closed his eyes, and I laid down to hold him in my arms.

He fell asleep almost immediately, snoring softly. It was a moment of serenity after the preceding chaos. This mysterious man of rage was now filled with peace. I fucked him into a coma, I decided. And with that, I quietly dressed myself and left. It didn’t seem right to stay – my work there was done.

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