Saturday, August 20, 2005


In what I'm sure this will be an on-going topic as this blog progresses.

They say that humans - especially men - are not predispositioned to mate w/one person for life. I only assume this is magnified for gay males. So take that and multiply it by 100 for me. I love and have loved deeply and never once been faithful. Not that, for the most part, they were ever aware of my infidelities. And the reality is/was, I had sex with other men dozens of more times with other men than w/the partner I was with at the time of my cheating.

Deep down it wasn't meant to be a mean thing. Some psychologist might tell me differently. It was a need of mine to have sex. Not a want. A NEED. In my mind I could separate the act from the relationship. Some of the men I dated (Ok, ALL of them) could not - not that most of them ever found out. Some of the men I slept (well...not actually 'sleep') with could not either. I always saw it as their issue.

A good case-in-point would be eons ago this guy I was seeing. Taller than me (I'm 6'2" - and love bigger guys, but harder to find). Bigger than me - but certainly not fat. What I never figured out is if he realized I once fellated him in a college bathroom basement (yes, I cheated with him while I was with someone else!). If he did - we never had the discussion. Anyway we began seeing each other after an encounter at a gay bar.

He (Dan) was nice. He was fun. We had been seeing each other for a few months but it turned out he was just a fucking liar. Ironic I know. But oddly enough at this point I had *not* cheated on him. He'd just tell lies about things my friends said (or actually didn't), lie about saying he called me to see what i was doing - but didn't since I had been at home. Shit like that. Just enough to be annoying. Just enough for me to justify going down on other men.

So one night after the bars - where I was out w/my friends and no Dan, I decided to hit the adult bookstore. I loved going there late at night, drunk or high. I'd take care of any number of guys who wanted nothing more from me than getting their nut. Works for me.

So after scoping out the place and meeting a guy, we head into a booth w/the ceremonial dropping of the quarters and me to my knees. I was doing a really really good job on Mr. X and his cock. He was moaning louder than we had the sound on. I was slurping loudly too - but probably not audible between the porn music, his moans and the hallway noise.

Just as we are way into it there is POUNDING at my door. Of course, at first I thought it was the clerk - but there was no way he'd know there was more than one person in a booth and we were pumping quarters into the movie box.

Well it wasn't the clerk..and that was evident as soon as Dan started *shouting* through the door. At me. The entire "I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, (my name here)" crap. The fucker had been following me!!!!! Had to have been from my home, to the bar (not sure how I ever missed him unless he just scoped out my car in the parking lot and waited).

Now the guy I was sucking didn't know who I was - and I denied knowing what the fuck was going on, but wasn't about to go out there. I went back to sucking and the guy went back to feeding me. I found his ability to keep performing simply amazing. He had the same type of will as a feeder that I had being his cocksucker. The pounding stopped and the regular after-bar at the bookstore cruising noise resumed.

You KNOW I got the guy off. I mean it's practically my sole purpose in life and then he left. But as the door was cracked, Dan was there. Waiting. And we did have it out in the bookstore and as he followed me out. And we didn't even break-up because of this incident.

I did end it a week later - and the entire time thinking: The only thing more pathetic than a guy who cheats on his boyfriend is a boyfriend who allows it and still won't dump the scum.

What a loser!

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