I was at work the other night, talking with one of my gal pals, when the conversation veered off into sex and men. Mainly, the weird sexual hangups that some men seem to have. Like, for example, how a straight guy might refuse to passionately kiss a girl that he's fucking around with, yet, this same guy will eat her pussy until the cows come home. Isn't it odd how these great discussions seem to start when yours truly is around?
I got to thinking about the alternate Gay version of this conundrum. You know, that Gay guy, usually a "top", who doesn't want to kiss nor blow the other guy he's hooking up with (or on a date with), yet, expects to get served some ass with a blowjob on the side. I've personally seen this situation far too many times. But, two times in particular seem to stand out for me. One, an online hookup and potential date, from last Fall, whose fuckery was just too much to deal with. The other, a date from a month ago.
Guy number one, "Homeboy", I met on Adam4Adam. I loved his photos, which later turned out to be completely fake and stolen from an escort's page. The conversation was cute, he seemed intelligent enough, and he had a good job in real estate. With all of that going for him, I figured I would consider talking to him and see it might lead. And, did I mention those hot photos, which he lifted from the sexy escort's page? I mean, he wasn't unattractive, he just wasn't what I expected. Anyway, it was a cold mid-November Saturday night when Homeboy and I decided to hangout at his temporary home, which also housed his family. I got to his place and noticed the difference in his appearance. But, just like he was intelligent enough, over the phone, he was just cute enough, in person, for me to decide not to ask the million dollar question. Plus, I was
curious about him. Not the "I wanna get to know him" kind of curious, but, the "I wanna study him" kind of curious. I mean, I have a guy here who, one, used fake photos online, two, had the balls to meet with me, and three, did feel compelled to address the obvious elephant in the
room. This was a new kind of fuckery, and I had to investigate it further.
Homeboy and I sat on the couch for awhile, channel surfing, until he invited me into a cluttered and cramped guess bedroom, to finish watching "The Borne Supremacy" on HBO. We laid in bed, cuddling, heavy petting, you know, the usual. But, every time I tried to kiss him
anywhere near the mouth, he would do this sly little move where he would try to steer my head to his crotch. Fed up, I asked him what was up. Homeboy then told me that he doesn't kiss anyone until getting to know them better. So, he didn't want to kiss me, yet, he wanted a blowjob. What the fuck kind of logic is that?!?
Mentally, I threw my hands in the air, said "whatever", and gave him some lack-luster head. I mean, I was bored, it was late, and I didn't feel like making a trek all the way back to my place. After I got bored of blowing Homeboy, he got up and went over to a drawed storage
container by the bed. In which case, he pulls out and throws onto the bed a condom and a small jar of "dollar store" Vaseline. I my head, I'm asking myself: "what kind of fuckery is this guy?". I picked up the jar, looked Homeboy square in the eye, and asked what the hell it was for. He
then informs me that its supposed to be "lube". What the fuck is this, that OZ show? I then sighed, looked back at him, and simply stated: "Nah, its really not." I hate when men are uneducated about the "basics" of man-on-man action.
After I shut Homeboy down, we agreed to take our asses to bed. He bitterly slept on his side and I slept on the other, until the morning came, and I took my ass home to sit in front of the TV with a Mcgriddle. After that morning, Homeboy and I never spoke again.
Guy number two, the "Debater", I met back in July. One Saturday, after a week of "sexting" back and forth, we had an impromptu late-night date. There wasn't much romance between us, but, we had a cute time. He took me to Shadow Bar, where I ended up getting another sexy guys' number. We took a late-night stroll around the Gayborhood, which ended in us going to IHOP for whatever meal it is that occurs at three AM. While waiting for our food, we had the chance to really talk. The Debater had a lot going for him. He was not only sexy, but, he was smart-a recent graduate from Los Angeles, who decided move back home, to Chicago, for law school and to teach the art of Debate to high-schooler's. The more we talked, the more i liked him, and seemingly the more chemistry we had.
After IHOP, the Debater and I came back to my place to unwind. We watched a little TV, cuddled, and started fooling around. Between all of the rubbing, touching, and groping, I made my way to kiss him on the lips. While playing with his dick, he gives me the line: "I don't usually kiss somebody til I get to know them..." I then asked him how long that usually takes, which he tells me is two dates. Yet, he was alright with us "sixty-nining" together. I was somewhat fine with that, and we continued our activity. But, not ten minutes later, he broke his little kissing rule, and began the "sex debate". He wanted to have sex, mainly, he wanted to fuck me. I then picked up his earlier line, about kissing, and threw it right back at him.
Needless to say, he didn't like hearing his own line coming from someone else's lips. But, he got over it, and we had a hot little "session" before he left. The Debater and I continued talking, on and off, after that night, but, it just never went anywhere.
My question is this; what is the mentality and reasoning behind the guy who's up for fucking, and everything else under the sun, yet, doesn't want to lip-lock?
