I had a meeting arranged with a young man off of Craigslist. I picked him because he had abs. Yeah, I have superficial standards, like many men do. But in this scenario I think I have a right to it. We emailed back and forth. It was my first time "hosting" so I went out and bought black berries. I thought that would be a romantic after-fuck treat. The night before our meeting he sent a full body shot, of him standing on some rock while hiking. Its the first time I'd seen his face. Uh oh. Houston, we have a problem. He reminds me of my little brother. Noooooooo!! But what am I supposed to do? Cancel and tell him he looks too much like my brother? No. Besides, in person it will probably be much different.
... No. No. It wasn't that much different. He reminded me of my brother. Crap. Well here we are sitting across from each other at a local pizzeria. I was really annoyed because I had ordered a salad with the intention of eating a meal with him and getting to know him. But he didn't want to eat anything. So instead of a date it was just this awkward thing in which he watched me eat. What a loser.
I didn't know his name. I only knew it started with a G. The night before I had pondered all the "g" names I know. George. Gregory. Gus. I couldn't think of a single one that was attractive to me. Well, except for one. Garrett. You, see, I had recently read a gay erotica book in which there was some group sex and one of the young men instructs another to take his boy-friend. "Fuck my boy, Garrett," he said. I remember that line three years later. It was that indelible. The line in the book made me melt. So that was the one and only name I could think of that was erotic to me. And guess what his name was... Garrett. Sad to say that was the highlight of the entire encounter.
So he follows me back to my place. He and one other guy would be the only two to ever fuck me in my own bed. I seem to have no guilt about my behavior but this was the one thing that pricked my conscience. I lead him up to the bedroom. When we get in bed I notice he has this droplet of snot stuck in his nose-hairs. It's the sort of thing you could wipe away easily but the sort of thing an NSA partner couldn't mention because it would be far too embarrassing for the person. So I just try to put it out of my head. We do some kissing and undressing. He is awkward. Uncomfortable. Shy. I try to put him at ease but it's not very fun for me. I think, in the reverse situation it's endearing... A virgin girl, an experienced man. And I think if I came into the situation purposefully the dominant one or the "teacher" it could be enjoyable. But this was just plain frustrating. In an attempt to try to bring out some manhood I suggested we wrestle. He didn't seem interested but didn't say no so I got on top and ... He made the most pathetic attempt at wrestling. I just gave up.
So foreplay was a bust. Might as well just go for the sex. I started to suck his dick. I did that for a little bit but he never quite got fully erect. Then he put on a condom and we began to screw. When I was on top we heard the beeping sound of a large truck backing up. We tried to ignore it but he asked if his car could be towed. TECHNICALLY it could, since it was in visitor parking without a placard. But in reality it was a virtual impossibility. The parking lot was practically empty and no one had ever been towed as far as I knew. But the beeping wouldn't stop. And Garrett was getting nervous. And now that he got me thinking about it, I was getting nervous. Our situation would become much more complicated; even dire if it happened. So finally I got off of him so he could look out the window. No tow truck. Good. Back to the task at hand. To make a long story short he could never get fully hard so we called it quits. I asked if he wanted to cuddle and he said no. And I sure as hell wasn't gonna share my black raspberries with him. As we dressed I made small talk and asked if he was finished with Christmas shopping. He said he doesn't give people Christmas presents. "Well aren't you a winner," I said sarcastically. "You don't cuddle and you don't give Christmas presents."
We headed downstairs. I began to unload the dishwasher so I wouldn't be just standing there awkwardly while he got his shoes and coat on. "I'm sorry I didn't finish," he said. "Are you kidding me? I had a blast," I said enthusiastically. A man shouldn't be made to feel bad for something he can't control. Just like it would be cruel for a man to point out the imperfections in my body. He left and I got my coat on and left to pick up my daughter at the babysitter's house.