Last night I was wallowing in self-pity and feeling sorry for my piss poor repeat actions. In the words of the morbidly obese, tragic teen mom Precious, "Yesterday was a bad day. But fuck that day. That's why God makes new days."
I laid down about 2am and woke up around 6:30 pissed. I wanted to sleep in and I calculated in my head how long I would need to sleep to get a good nights rest and to get up and hit the gym at a reasonable hour for me to enjoy the rest of my day.
I couldn't sleep, nor could I shake the feeling of ickiness from the night before. Then the next thing I knew it was dark and early and I got a little shut eye. I grabbed my cell phone, which I slept with, like I do every morning religiously to see if anyone text me, check social networks and see what time it was. I was greeted with a mass of jack'd messages. Still no "thanks for the night" from any of the freaks I invited over to that damn hotel room, but whatever. I decided that "J" is an asshole and I was expecting too much.
Instead I had a pleasant message from a neighbor that I banged out twice before (on the first day meeting him of course) asking how my holiday was, but he messaged me at the wrong time. It was the morning, we're both guys so I figured he was horny. I thought of this blog I started last night, but I suddenly got a massive erection. Damn morning wood.
It wasn't that his sex was great, but he was close and like I said it was morning.
After a few moments of "I like alcohol, I like turkey and 'me too!'" I cut to the chase. Whether I was right or wrong about his intentions I asked when could I bang him out again, he said he was horny and needed some dick so of course I was down to "chill". I wanted it that instant, but he had some lame excuse about not be prepared and wanting his digestive tract to be spick and span before I plowed him a new one. So I got up, went to the gym, ran a few miles, pumped some iron and cleared my head.
I came back home, showered then suddenly remembered that he said he'd be ready in an hour. 3 hours had passed and I heard nothing. I hit him up and he immediately said he was ready, so I hopped in the ho-mobile, my car, and went over to dig him out.
When I walked in, he was wearing basketball shorts watching that BET show the "Game" and began undressing while have awkward small talk about the show while I pulled my clothes off. He kept talking about TV and having to work, so I broke the ice by turning him around, lubing him up and pounding him out for a solid 50 minutes.
At the end of the session, he came twice, I came '0' times (being long-winded I'm accustomed to pleasing bottoms and getting nothing in return, but the perverted excitement of watching my dick go in and out of them so I wasn't mad.) I took a ho bath in his sink, got dressed and he asked me about having a threesome later on. I knew that I did a good job so I told him "hit me up later I'm down". Then as I rode the elevator out of his apartment, I thought "OH God NOT AGAIN." I'm supposed to be getting better right? Why am I falling into the same trap?
When I got in the car another scary thought hit me like a wall of bricks, "Am I gonna be his age still acting like this?" Granted he's 33 (which isn't old), I'm 24. He's a power bottom, I'm a top. But we're both single and both sleep around over and over with no signs of slowing down.
When I first met him, he asked me about my day, we talked about our college days and as two young black men it seemed like we had things in common. We even talked about going to a restaurant together for restaurant week; we just connected (no pun intended).
Then I found out some things about him that were troubling.
He was 33, attractive, single and a frequent user of gay sex networks (2 that I've seen) that had vulgar descriptions of himself as a "slut bottom" that like "big dicks" with his FACE exposed on both profiles. I was immediately confused because when we met he seemed like a solid guy. What was up with that?
Even today after our encounter a character on "The Game", Tasha Mack, said that she had 83 sex partners and he echoed that it wasn't a lot. o_0. I know I've been around the block quite a few times myself, but hearing someone say it aloud has a different effect.
I know that I have a lot to offer someone and I'm sure he does too, but when does the horny-ness end and the hamster wheel of random sex with guys stop? Does it stop? And he isn't the only man in his 30's or 40's that I've slept with that is single, successful (I think) and sleeps around like there's no tomorrow.
I wonder if we're apart of the generation that doesn't know what commitment is or if we're innately whores. Either way I don't like it, but he and other guys seem to be comfortable "finding themselves" in different beds, cars and hotel rooms to no end.
I'm like a drug addict that tries going cold turkey and has a massive relapse every time I stop sleeping around, delete all my networks and chill out for a while. I become like a dog in heat and the lust for sex possesses me and puts me in a trance like state until I have an orgasm from anyone that will do and then I'm back to feeling blue. I have the traits of a sex addict and the issue is I can identify it, but I don't know how to create a framework to STOP it.
The fact is I don't want to be 29 going on 30 or 39 going on 40 hunting for sex on the internet like I've been doing since I lost my virginity at 18. There's gotta be a better, and quite frankly, SAFER way of going about connecting with guys. Sometimes I wonder if it'd be easier if I just came out, but most of the guys that I know that are out are also whoring for years on end. Maybe one day I'll figure it out and will start thinking with the head on my shoulders instead of the one I'm showing the world on adam4adam.
I've got to. I can't bear the idea of having my wrinkly, hairless sack plastered all over the net because I'm hiding the salt and peppering that comes with being an old man. Gosh I gotta stop, but today was cool and tomorrow will be better...right?
-CGN
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