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Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Met Up With a Russian Guy

A couple of days ago, some guy sent me a message on Gaydar asking if I'd like to accompany him in exploring a few tourist spots in the city. For some reason I agreed, even though his profile picture was outdated and barely visible. After a couple of text messages over the weekend, I still wasn't sure if I should go ahead. I decided that it's best I stop over-thinking.

Yesterday, I finally caught up with him at an art gallery. I was surprisingly calm but yet, a little nervous because I was meeting a guy without even seeing a proper picture. I told myself that I'm here as a local acquaintance and that my superficial concerns play no part in a non-sex date scenario.

As usual, a middle-aged man walks up to me and introduced himself as A². I had a selfish moment in my head and lamented why couldn't he have been the hot blonde athletic guy that was standing a couple of exhibits away, but came back to reality that I was in no position to ask for the Earth.

At the sound of his accent and his look, a geographical map pops up in my head and it immediately circled the region around North Eastern Europe or Russia. Further questions confirmed that A² was indeed Russian but works in the city where beautiful people pass me by every single day.

I am not immune to believing in stereotypes, therefore my head was just flooded with questions and inner voices. A white Russian man. Here. With me. That's definitely a first. Could he be Xenophobic or cold? Does he think I'm not good enough? Can I trust him? The fact that the first topic he chose to voiced his opinion on was how the city of Saint Petersburg is filled with problematic immigrants, just wasn't helping me to dispel whatever preconceived notions I had of him.

I asked him about Vladimir Putin, about Russia's recent anti-gay laws and everything else a good curious conversationalist would ask. I don't consider him attractive, but as we walk, I caught his eyes staring at my crotch a couple of times and my biological tool expanded from within my underwear. I was a weak bastard and he was a man. I toyed heavily with the idea if me and him might end up having some fun later but decided firmly that I wouldn't give in even if he proposed because I just don't feel comfortable with this guy.

As we walk around the city, we talked about a lot of things. His job, homosexuality, his travels, Europe, Russia, Egypt etc. I even got to practise my spoken French. The real challenge however, was getting him to talk about his own experiences with being gay as I did mine. It also took a few hours of walking around the city on foot to warm up to each other even though I kept the conversation going. I felt his biceps by accident while trying to warn him about an approaching vehicle at one point and I toyed once again with the idea of fun as my bulge expanded.

It was 8pm and we finally settled down for some food. We were now much more comfortable with each other in comparison to the first hour of our meeting. I thought: "So there's no where else to go after this. I guess I'll just head home and he'll just go back to his hotel? He hasn't said anything. Maybe he's not into that kind of evening."

After finishing our meal, I wasn't ready to say goodbye so I decided to bring him to another famous park for a night walk. As we adjourned to the subway station, he mentioned that I can stay overnight at his place if it's too late for me to catch the last train out. I wondered if that was the signal but casually gave a couple of excuses and declined. As I hear myself say those words, my flaming desires to touch him lit up even more and felt a sting of regret.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you walking away from an opportunity again? You're going to have to grow some balls and take some risk. The risk you've always played by that opened you up to where you are now. The universe sends this man to cross your path, your emotions are telling you something and it wants you to respond to it. So respond damn it."

I didn't know what came over me, but as soon as we were at the train station, I walked up to a subway map and very calmly said: "Okay so we're here, and the park is here which is where we're going. Unless if you're tired we can always go back to your hotel and you can show me the place. We'll have about an hour before I need to catch the last train out. So what do you think?"

He was shocked. He obviously did not see this coming and spiralled immediately into a state of silent nerves because I cornered him. He took a moment to contemplate but in his expression, I knew he would cave. "Listen, are you comfortable? Because if you're not we can always just stick to the plan and visit the park together. It doesn't matter okay? It's your call.", I reassured him.

He finally said we can go back to his hotel room and so we did. Throughout the subway ride, I could tell that things were now a little bit awkward for us but I was very steady in keeping the normal conversation going to help ease his nerves or rather, mine. The walk to his hotel from the station was one of the longest journeys on foot I had to endure. It was so long and far that by the time we reached his room, I was just so tired and wanted to chicken out but I didn't.

[ Reminder: Sexual Content Ahead ]

As we entered the room together, I timed myself and told him we have about 20 minutes because I didn't know the journey to his place would take this long. I sat comfortably on the king size bed as he fumbled up and down the transitional space trying to freshen up. He adjusted everything, from the curtains to the lights. I think he too was nervous. I joined him in the bathroom to freshen up and went back outside. 

The room is now dark but gently illuminated by the en suite bathroom light. We hugged each other and descended slowly onto bed. I took the opportunity to caress parts of his body that I've been meaning to touch throughout the past 4 hours. His upper arms, his shoulders, neck and lower jaw. He wasn't at all into kissing and therefore was not a good kisser.

We continued to rub our bodies up against one another and disrobed piece by piece. As our naked bodies embrace, he asked if I was a top or a bottom and I said versatile. He said he was versatile too and then grabbed a condom from the side table and asked me to use it. I told him we'll have to keep it light because there wasn't much time for a full blown episode. But deep down, I knew the real reason was because I didn't trust him enough to allow us to go all the way.

After a while, I started to realise that we're both actually not very experienced at sex. He asked me to use the condom again but I was just not in the mood to play top. I had a moment of weakness and told him he could use it on me if he wants. He happily tore the foil packet and got himself into position with some lube. I was excited because I have a thing for lube. He applied some on my back entrance and I was just so amazed by the slippery sensation.

During this whole process, I genuinely enjoyed his company. But on the other hand, I was also silently judging myself on the inside for how I ended up here in his room, how I handled the situation, and how I allowed myself to be so vulnerable when my desires to have fun with a man is on the table. 

He fumbled, I fumbled. In the end, things just didn't work out and he gave up trying to penetrate. I told him to jettison the rubber protector along with the idea of wanting some anal action in me. At that point, all I could think of was how clumsy my skills in bed were. My back entrance just wasn't cooperating. Maybe I could switch roles and enter him instead but we don't have time.

He continued to caress parts of my body as he thrust himself back and forth artificially on me to feel good. The bathroom light tells me he never stopped smiling throughout the whole time he was staring at me. Wait does he like what we were doing together? Is he enjoying the candidate who's a novice in bed?

We found ourselves embracing each other in a seated position and relied solely on our hands for pleasure. He demanded that I play with his nipples so I did. Within a couple of minutes, without even touching his tool, he came satisfyingly while lying down as his hands gripped his own dick. "Wow, he's a nipple person?", I thought to myself. He definitely came good.

After cleaning himself up with a white towel, he started working on me. He jerked me off as I embraced him tight, taking in his scent and soaking up every inch of his neck, his broad shoulders and biceps. And it was at that very particular moment, when I revelled being close to another man's body against the silence of the room and the heavy breathing, that I hear myself realise in my own head: "Look at me going crazy over the shoulders and arms of a man. So this is what it's all about and this is what makes me gay. Getting off on a man?"

As my right hand found its way back to feeling up his athletic biceps, it tipped me over the edge and I came. I cleaned myself up with a white towel. We didn't have time to cuddle so after a brief one filled with whispers of gratitude and him telling me how wonderful I was, I went to the bathroom and freshened up. 

The room was now brightly lit again and after wearing my clothes, he offered me a new toothbrush and said I should clean myself properly. I smiled and he joined me in front of the sink as we brushed our teeth together. He emulated my movements and brush strokes in the spirit of humour, I found that so amusing and felt a sense of warmth. The stiff Russian guy that I met just a couple of hours ago, was now a completely different character in the mirror. He is capable of liking me as a friend and I appreciated him so much.

Soon it was time to head back out and he walked me to the train station. But before he opened the hotel room door, he turned to me and said: "I now understand what you mean when you said you are not the best person in the world in a lot of things but neither are you too bad."

"Oh what do you mean? Is it because I'm actually worse than what I said I am?", I asked in quiet disappointment. "No, it's because you are the best!" he replied, and I appreciated him even more for saying such nice things to boost my confidence even though it's not realistically the truth. I thanked him profusely for being so equally avuncular and considerate throughout our time in his room.

As we arrived at the train station, we patted each other's backs in a hug and agreed to keep in touch. Who knows? Maybe someday I might see him again in the city where I dream of finding a boyfriend. As the train glided its course out of the city, I reflected on everything that happened, and what a positive experience it can turn out to be when the right risk is taken.

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