Time for a little honesty: I’m not sure what has been happening to me lately, but the last two times I hooked up with someone, something went wrong. Last time I couldn’t stop laughing the whole time we were together and this time, the other guy has suddenly “lost his interest.” (Note to women: there is nothing more heartbreaking than getting laughed at immediately after we whip it out for the first time). I can’t pinpoint the problem, which is worse, because as far as I know I was my usual, giving self. While the experiences with the Clown and the Closet were less than thrilling, I’m sure they’ll make for interesting anecdotes here.
I met the Clown, a pale, bony guy from Detroit, downtown at The Alley. For those who are not well versed in the gay scene, it’s a small, dark bear bar near Tremont Street. I had never been in before, but a work friend was turning 40, and he got to choose the location. There was a pinball machine along the far wall of the bar with two large pool tables between it and the front entrance, along with a large wooden bar in the center of the room. As if it were the most beautiful man in the bar, the pinball table beckoned from the distance, and, after buying the first round, I headed over to play with the Clown.
After six thrilling games, (well, as thrilling as pinball can be in a gay bar), the Clown and I shook hands and sat down for a few drinks. Long story short, there was some heavy flirting, light petting and a long cab ride home together. When layers started coming off, the “greatest show on earth” really began. Let me pause here to explain that, while I certainly have my kinks, (although I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which); I have never been a fan of nipple play. So, when he went right to town on my upper body, I lost control. I erupted into fits of uncontrollable laughter, so badly that we almost had to pause for a few seconds for me to calm down. Of course, the true performer that I am, the grand finale went off without a hitch, and left us both wanting more.
The Closet was a completely different scenario. He was an olive-skinned ‘boy-next-door’ type, and our meeting was completely coincidental. I went to a College of Fine Arts performance on some Thursday night, (hey, some gay stereotypes are absolutely true), and met up with my friend Melinda and one of her guy friends.
After the show, which was phenomenal, Melinda invited us all over to her friend’s frat house for an after-party they were hosting. After a ton of Natty Light and a few shots of Svedka, I headed for the bathroom. Just as the door was closing, I heard the Closet call out, “Hey, can I share with you?” I opened the door, and he stepped inside confidently. After we both relieved ourselves, he shut the lights off and stared at me as he moved in for a kiss. I was shocked; here was this mutual friend, a guy who had previously been introduced to me as a straight man! After I initially took a step back, he calmed me down, saying, “when Melinda told me you were gay, I knew this was going to happen. Let’s just have some fun.” Drunken Luke agreed this was a good idea. We exchanged information, and agreed to meet up at my place 20 minutes later.
Once his pants came off, however, he froze up. He was suddenly worried about whether or not I would tell anyone about the hook up, or if anyone would think he was gay afterward. “Clearly,” I told him, “people would think you are gay if you told them about it, but as long as you don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t.” (This doesn’t count as telling anyone, right?) Once I talked him off the ledge, and he got both his confidence (and manhood) back up, he fully committed to the evening. Too bad he was so excited; our night was cut short after about four minutes.
The point of all this, ladies and gentlemen, is that everyone is entitled to a few less-than-stellar experiences. As long as these are mistakes everyone makes but once in their lives, we’ll all walk away better lovers, better partners and better people.
Finally, I’ve received a bunch of questions from emails that were clearly created just to send me one question anonymously. For the sake of saving you time and energy, I created a Formspring account to submit questions privately. Submit your juicy sex and relationship questions to http://www.formspring.me/lpsex.
Luke Pearson a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at lpsexquestions@gmail.com
This is an account occasionally used by the Daily Free Press editors to post archived posts from previous iterations of the site or otherwise for special circumstance publications. See authorship info on the byline at the top of the page.
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