[Yay! An NSFW post that is full of TMI! Not for tender eyes. You have been warned.]
I was chatting to a boy on one of my apps on Monday night. He seemed sweet. He liked my profile because I’d described myself as “teacher/writer” (Remember those halcyon early days in London when I was going to stay in youth hostels forever, until I became a famous writer? Those were good times.) Anyway, this boy (he’s 22) writes Pokémon fan fic and so, as well as my picture, he liked that I described myself a writer.
His messages were shy, full of those pointy-eared cat-like emoticons that Japanese people use and I don’t understand. He told me he was nervous. I was to be his first. He’d arranged to meet a man before but chickened out. He’d literally never even kissed anyone. I said lots of supportive things and we arranged to meet at mine this evening.
I let him in and invited him to sit on my sofa. He didn’t know where to put his bag and we had a whole little awkward moment. I don’t think I’ve ever been less nervous about a hook-up. It’s weird being the more experienced one.
He started looking around my living room, noticing all my colours and ridiculous decorations, photos of Zayn and the heap of teddy bears in front of the fireplace. “I didn’t know you had children.” LOL. I guess other 37-year-olds choose not to live like this.
I offered him a glass of water. He didn’t want one. So I told him I was going to kiss him. He couldn’t do it. His face twisted fast and my lips landed on his cheek. I patted him on the back, wondering if the rendezvous was going to end there.
It didn’t. He asked me to take off my top. He was aghast that I didn’t shut the curtains before doing so. There’s a giant bush in front of the window and a net curtain up too and the lights weren’t even on. I don’t know what he thought anyone could see.
Luckily, he was delighted with my body and very happy to move things into the bedroom.
Things went well. I certainly enjoyed our shenanigans. He was very eager to do things right and he asked for permission at every stage, which I loved. “Should I take my socks off now?” “Where should I be for this bit?” “Should I put a third finger in now?” etc.
It was as he inserted that third finger that the thought overtook me. This was a very gay thing to be doing. In fact, it was possibly the gayest thing you could do. This was super gay. I always find the concept of gay rights amusing. (I know I shouldn’t, but in situations like this, it’s hard not to.) I wanted to twist around as he got that third finger in and say to him, “Isn’t it hilarious that we get rights…for this?” But I figured that would put him off so I didn’t.
Anyway, it was lovely. He’s told me he’s going to come back to do it “better” next time. And I’m fully in favour of that idea.
I love this post-man feeling. *Happy sighs*