Tuesday, Aug. 27, 2002 - 10:43 p.m.
First Meetings

Wednesday, 2 December 1998

I had a date last night with Charlie, a 27 year old Asian dude I chatted with online during my last episode of sexual compulsion, that Friday night on GayTorontoSex. We’ve kept in touch on email since, and I told him I didn’t want to have sex on the first date and he was cool with that. So we met at 830 at Mocha Joe’s and had a very pleasant visit. And I was attracted to him.

Mark went by and I waved at him and told Charlie he was my ex. Charlie recognized Mark, said he’d met him years ago through John, a friend of Alex’s. What a small world. So Charlie actually has met Alex a few times, has been to the apartment on Charles Street where Alex and John lived together.

Anyway, Charlie was very sweet and playful and somewhat flirtatious. We really hit it off and I was enjoying myself. We left Mocha Joe’s to “walk around” and within minutes of being outside I asked him if he’d like to “see my place” and he immediately agreed. Then I said I wanted to have sex, but was not ready, so I wouldn’t mind “touching” him but not going all the way. He said that was cool.

Charlie clammed right up when we got back here, whereas before he’d been quite talkative and engaged. This change unnerved me, and all I could think of to do was start to touch him. This didn’t help him or I relax. He was impassive as I began to fondle him and this impassivity turned me off. But I kept on, and once we started to kiss Charlie got a bit more interactive. Clothes started to peel off. I didn’t intend for our underwear to come off, but that happened. Charlie has a beautiful, taut body.

But I was completely disconnected from what we were doing. Almost bored. Except when he would caress this one spot on my hip bone, which sent spasms through my whole body and he kept returning to this magic spot over and over again and I thought I would cum.

But he was very lackadaisical and several times I thought he’d gone to sleep.

I forgot all about the earlier energetic rapport we had at Mocha Joe’s, and this guy now lying on the couch naked with me became someone uninteresting, except for the immediate possibility of orgasm. Yes, I feel awful to admit this, but it’s true. I lost my resolve, and I began to scheme. How to get an orgasm out of this without appearing to go back on my word?

Well, it was easy. I merely suggested that we jerk ourselves off. That wouldn’t count. Charlie drowsily complied, and he came and then I came BUCKETS. Charlie’s cum was all over his hands and he licked it all off. He said it was his recycling system. I was intrigued.

And then he left. It was uncomfortable. I said I’d enjoyed myself and would like to get together again; he agreed. Who knows whether either of us meant it.

Then he was gone. I felt not very good at all. Guilty.

But as I write about this now, I again feel bad about what happened. Insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. Whenever I have sex with a guy on the first date, any future for connectedness is almost always nullified.

I did send Charlie a short, friendly email this morning, reiterating that I’d had fun and would like to see him again, so that’s good. But I still don’t know if I really meant it.

What happened last night on that date had absolutely nothing to do with my heart. That makes me sad.

But today is a new day.

Charlie admitted on email that he felt weird about having had sex like that. We met for coffee a couple weeks later, and I was frank in expressing exactly what had gone through my mind and how manipulative I’d become. It was something I really needed to say; in many ways, this post-coital conversation with Charlie was a breakthrough for me in getting more honest about and with sexual partners. It didn’t translate into anything between us, however; I never saw him again.

Sunday, 13 February 2000

Immediately I noticed a young bespectacled black guy sitting by himself at a long table. I couldn’t tell if he was cute at first, but kept checking him out and initially he returned my glances but then he didn’t.

Meanwhile, I noticed a guy there who I had invited over to my place last fall off the chatroom at gay.com when we discovered he lived 2 blocks away. Once he got over here I was not sexually attracted to him but we had a pleasant chat. I don’t remember his name; we parted that night with a hug and the expression of a desire to keep in touch but neither of us bothered to take the initiative. I certainly have not lost any sleep over that but it was weird to see him out last night. I did not take the opportunity to go up and speak to him.

Meanwhile I saw the young black guy return to his seat and got a much better view of him—slender, muscled body and arms—yum! So I more or less zeroed in on him from this point on, stood closer to where he was sitting and after receiving a couple smiles from him I got a hard-on and went up and spoke to him.

His name is J.C. and he moved here from Jamaica only about 3 or 4 months ago! [biographical detail omitted]

Very pleasant, outgoing in a quiet way and it was increasingly obvious to me that I would have no trouble picking him up. Once I was standing right beside him, I could see that he was quite cute and his huge forearms were driving me wild. My dick persisted to throb in my jeans.

Thinking him to be maybe 23 or 24, I asked him his age. EIGHTEEN! Fuck, my dick throbbed all the harder at this news, I must say. He seemed unfazed by my age, almost twice as old as him. My god.

He asked me to dance and holy smokes he is a great dancer and he was all over me in a series of dirty dancing manoeuvres that made me self-conscious and I jokingly said might give me a heart attack.

We danced 3 songs and I was worried I had achieved a visible pre-cum stain on my jeans but I think I managed to avoid that, barely. Once back at our table we began to neck and we were both goners. Loved kissing him! We left in a cab back to my place soon after.

He was all set to jump me instantly once we got back here but I really needed to pee before I sprouted another erection. (As it was, I peed through the semi-hard-on I’d had since just before I went up to talk to him.) Then I lit a cigarette because I hadn’t had one since before we went out on the dance floor. Took the opportunity to initiate that important little conversation, said if this turned out to be a one-night stand I could live with that but was interested in more but also wasn’t looking for a boyfriend either. He wasn’t very talkative in response but did seem to appreciate my candor and said that all sounded “cool” with him

In the taxicab he’d seemed quite sleepy so we didn’t have much conversation as we held hands. But he did tell me that he’d played professional sports back in Jamaica.

I soon saw the body that goes along with being a pro athlete: when J.C. peeled off his shirt I thought I would pass out! And it went from there…an amazing time we had. Although I could not deep-throat him in any ongoing way, I did find the position to take him in all the way down the back of my throat, which triggered that same throat-horniness I first experienced with the Quebecois guy last July. I would like to get to the point where I could sustain the deep-throat cocksucking action but I am not there yet. Sure wouldn’t mind practicing on J.C.

J.C.’s body is utterly amazing. So of course I soon rolled him over and the sight of his rock-hard bubble butt made me quiver. The kind of muscled buttocks such that I had difficulty slipping my tongue in between.

As we were eventually jerking ourselves off, he asked me if I would like him to fuck my ass and I said, as per usual, yes—but not on the first date. I came geysers as usual. It was cute because before we came he said he wouldn’t cum that much because he had jerked off that morning. I laughed, said I had jerked off in the afternoon and I still predicted a huge orgasm. We were both right.

I invited J.C. to sleep over and it was actually quite lovely to have him in my bed all night.

J.C. was very quiet this morning. It was about 10 when he got up, I think, and he asked me to call him a cab as he had an appointment at noon. So there wasn’t much conversation and I felt a bit awkward. I gave him my card, said I would really like to get together again. He was affectionate as he left, big hug and kiss. So we’ll see.

Oh yes, and he left a big hickey on my neck.

Much of Queer Scribbles (from here to here) chronicles the confusion, beauty and love that came after.

Given time and trust, the heart reveals.