My Last Moments With the German Backpacker

After meeting T and spending an unexpected 10 hours in his company, I couldn't get him out of my thoughts. I am pretty sure it's just infatuation, or even possibly a phase that is riding on hope that this might open doors to the "more" I have been waiting for.

Waking up to the immediate morning following the night we said goodbye was emotionally tricky. At the thought of not wanting to pursue anything more than what I assume is a one-night thing from his end, I never gave in to my urge to send him a text. 

However to my surprise, T reached out to me with some very nice messages via the instant messaging apps and my heart swirled in excitement. We stayed in touch briefly throughout the week and he finally told me that I should go see him when he arrives in my city from the south. He will be staying for one night before flying off.

On the evening of his arrival, I had butterflies in my stomach knowing that we were going to meet again. "How is this time going to turn out? Will he ask me to stay the night with him? Will we get to have some more bed fun?", a bunch of thoughts floated in my head. I quietly packed my toothbrush, cleaned myself thoroughly and did all the necessary preparations to account for the possible scenario in case it arises. 

I braved all rush hour traffic and went to see him at his hostel. We had street food for dinner. Afterwards, we went back to the hostel rooftop for some beer. Everything was going comfortably well, from the beer to the proximity of our chairs and to our conversation. God he smells good. His scent was intoxicating to me.

I enjoyed his company so much that I knew I couldn't let him go without spending a few more hours with him tomorrow. He is not gone unless he is completely gone. So even though he didn't ask for it, I insisted on us seeing each other again the next day so that I can send him off to the airport. It was the original plan I suggested when we said goodbye in my hometown and told him to call me when he came into my city.

He told me that he was to meet "a friend" around 6pm the next day, but doesn't know if the meeting is confirmed or will go ahead. It didn't occur to me what "meeting" that was going to be because it was none of my business, but I told him we'll meet each other halfway when he was done and he agreed.

The time was closing on to midnight and I didn't want what was going on between us to end. But unfortunately, I needed to catch the last train out of the city to head home. He came with me on foot to the station. It was nice.

Before tagging my transport card on the automatic barriers, he and I rushed to finish our conversation. The eye contact was intense and our bodies were close, too close in fact for two regular guys in a country where both public displays of affection and homosexuality are frowned upon. Had it not been illegal, I would have grabbed him longingly and kissed him without a care to world's end. For I love it when my face is close to another guy's.

When I got home, we chatted and flirted a little bit more via instant messaging before turning in. The next day, I woke up to nice messages from him. It was emotionally thrilling, but also confusing. What's going on here? I find myself falling for these kinda acts of romance but at the same time, trying not to be so naive.

On the all important final day of his departure, we remained connected via instant messaging throughout the day. All afternoon, I have been looking forward to spending some time with him. For some reason, I was still nervous but ecstatic about being able to see him again.

The plan was for me to pick him up at the final train stop with my car at the estimated time of around 9pm. That way, we can hang out over some food and talk for a couple of hours before personally driving him to the airport to see him off on his 3am flight.

He told me that he's appointment with "the friend" might end around 7.30pm. But due to rush hour traffic and other factors, he didn't know what the time was going to be like. It's all very uncertain and he will continue to keep me posted.

I was looking forward to seeing him. I showered, printed his ticket, did some work of my own while constantly looking at the clock, wondering when is he going to let me know what time to pick him up. I skipped dinner too because I thought I'd eat something with him. It was a mistake.

Right around 8.30pm, I suddenly had a very strong intuition that he might be enjoying his date with his friend and that his signal for us to meet might come only around 11pm. I started to feel a little weird. The emotions were a cross between being the fool who is waiting on someone and also the feeling of just being his side kick.

I drowned those unhealthy thoughts and continued to distract myself while waiting. I waited, waited and waited. Still no signal. I sent him a text at about 9.30pm, there was no response, no 'read' time stamp. At this point, I could guess what was going on at his end and it started to affect me. I was a little pissed, annoyed, hurt and to be honest, jealous.

An hour went by and still there was no 'read' time stamp. He's not on his phone like he usually does. I sent him a second message around 10.30pm asking him what the situation was and if we were still meeting. Still, there was no response and no 'read' time stamp. His phone was idle and I gave in to my assumption that he might be busy in bed with his friend. It started to hurt a little. Why does that thought hurt though? He is not your boyfriend!

It wasn't until the time was close to about 11pm that his candid reply finally came saying he's sorry he's late and that he just got back to the hostel. He is currently sweaty and unprepared. He will need a quick shower and leave in time to catch the last train out to meet me.

"The last train, no reply, no read time stamp for 2 hours, sweaty, needs a shower, a meeting that dragged on for a few hours. Yeah, he was definitely having fun fucking someone else during the final hours when I foolishly waited around for him since 7.30pm like a loser."

The thought killed me. I know it's none of my business and I have no right to have an opinion on what this single guy chooses to do, but for some reason, I was very affected by the whole thing. My heart shattered a little and I couldn't sensibly deduce why exactly.

I felt so despondent that I completely lost all sense of initiative and mood to go see him because I wasn't sure if I could face him while I was upset. I didn't think I could look into his face and act normal as if nothing happened with the weight of the entire thing bothering me behind my back. But then again, I can't act like he belongs to me. I have no right.

At that point, I really didn't feel like picking him up to the airport anymore. Then conscience kicked in that my withdrawal would cause him to be stranded and he will miss his flight. I snapped myself out of whatever it is that I was feeling and pulled myself up to fulfill this promise I said I would do. Because no matter the circumstances, what kind of an disrespectful person will I be if I don't keep my word? As a friend, as an acquaintance, as a one night stand, whatever.

I timed myself according to his signals and left the house. When I arrived at the train station, it was deserted. The shutters were closed, lights were dimmed and service for the day was ready to stop. I stood near the automatic barricades and waited for him. The sound of trains came and go, but still T was no where to be seen. I felt so foolish but this is definitely not the time to vent it.

Finally, at about 12.20am, a guy with a backpack in a stylish hat appeared. He was the only one on the last train in this last station. Despite feeling what I was feeling, I had to banish all emotions aside to do this as a friend, nothing more. "Hey, you made it", my tone was dull and calm as I forced myself to look at him and his after sex glow. I knew I was jealous and couldn't handle it, but I had no right.

We got into the car and headed straight for the highway to the airport. Throughout the drive, I didn't talk and was really reserved. My anger and annoyance needed time to subside. T on the other hand, didn't seem to realise anything at all. He had no idea that I was affected by what he did or how his actions might come across to me as being taken advantage of. I remained silent in the car while he talked enthusiastically like how we used to be when we first met in my hometown. My negative emotions slowly but subtly subsided.

At the departure terminal, the remaining minutes were spent finding the check-in counter, fidgeting with the backpack and making sure nothing else could go wrong at the final minute. After depositing his bag, there was still some time before he needed to proceed to his gate. He suggested to have a quick coffee. I almost declined and wanted to tell him to just go. You go on your flight and I head home, nothing more. We don't have to do this.

I asked myself whether I was angry for the fact that he slept with someone before coming to meet me, or was it because he made me wait for him like fool as means of transport to the airport while he was having fun with someone else. It was both. Then I thought, if I were to get angry at the former, I have absolutely no right. Shut up. But if it was the latter, then yes I have legitimate grounds. Because you don't make people wait around for you like an idiot, especially for someone who was willing to go out all the way for you.

As we sat down for the final cup of coffee together, we casually talked, but never about what just happened. I was kinda cold. I think he could sense my distance, I think he couldn't. But anyway, I hid everything and maintained a very professional façade. I was ready for him to go home to Germany and for me to move on with my life. I was prepared that I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore, but my heart softened.

Before leaving, he decided to give me his vacation hat and a book he was reading. Jesus Christ, what now. I don't want to think about you no more! The hat was something he wanted to leave me with. The book was something he picked out from one of those old libraries where travellers from all over the world would surrender one in hand in exchange for another. He was giving it to me. It was a good spiritual book, a subject that we often talked about and I acquiesced.

I told him I'd like him to write a dated message in the book before giving it to me, he said he wasn't good at these kinda stuff but did as I wish. Soon, it was time for him to leave. At the departure gate, I didn't wanna get too close. But he came up and initiated a friendly hug. "See you soon", he whispered. I was a little touched and reciprocated.

As I walked to my car, I held his hat and inhaled the inside. It smells just like him, a scent I'm starting to have a soft spot for. I opened the book and it was written: "For M, who is my helper on the way". My 'helper' on the way it reads. Well I guess that tells me very much of how he actually feels about me. The feeling reminded me about something he said the other day regarding people feeling strongly for him more than he feels for them. I was moody and depressed for the next couple of days, but I know I will get over it.

10 Hours With a Backpacker From Germany | ❷

[ Previously on... 10 Hours With a Backpacker From Germany | ❶ ]

I rubbed my face against his stubble-studded jaw and we finally kissed. It was what I wanted and what I dreamed of doing since coffee. However, the kissing didn't last very long due to my lack of flow and skill. I tried to get it right based on past experiences but that didn't help. We went back to cuddling and I laid there on his chest, fully clothed with my arms around him. 

The sound of our heartbeats and deep breathing bounced off the bed. Not knowing what he wants and what is coursing through his head intimidates me greatly. I really wanted to get down right naked and sweaty with this attractive guy, but my own fear and diffidence to full sex proved to be a self-conjured obstacle. 

[ Reminder: Sexual Content Ahead ]

At this point, I was worried on the inside as to how much I will disappoint again as an inexperienced person in sex. Why can't I get past myself and just go all out? I knew that talking and being honest is going to ruin the whole mood, but I couldn't take it anymore and fell for my own trap.

Me:
"Er... Are you okay with this?" 

Him: [confused]

Me:
"I mean do you like this? Being close and intimate with another guy?"

Him:
"Yeah! This is nice."

Me:
"So how do you want this evening to end?"

Him:
"I don't know. How about you?"

Me:
"What is your role?"

Him:
"I don't understand."

Me: [embarrassed]
"Are you top, bottom, versatile? What are you?"

Him:
"We did not talk about this before?"

Me:
"No we didn't. And trust me, if I knew I wouldn't ask again."

Him: [smiles]
"I'm top. You?"

The Voice In My Head: 
I don't know, help!

Me:
"Er... I relate to both. Haven't quite decided yet."

Him: [suspicious look]

Me:
"But I don't feel like going all the way today."

Him:
"It's okay. We don't have to do anything. This is nice and we can just lie here."

Me:

"Oh no. I mean I plan on us doing something for sure! It's just that the last time I bottomed for another guy it hurt, and I don't think I'm ready to go again. Unless you're highly skilled and can convince me otherwise. Are you good?" 

The Voice In My Head: [Cringe]

Him:

"Well I don't know. I'm the wrong person to ask. Maybe you need to ask the bottoms I've been with."

After a few more minutes of just laying there in awkward silence and small talk, I sensed that he was getting restless. So was I with a growing need to please this man whom I just spent a couple of hours with.

Me:

"Come. Let me suck you off."

Him:

"You want to do that?"

Me: [smile]

"Yeah."

He got up and walked over to the side of my bed. He stood steadily near my face with the protruding tent in his pants. My nose trailed his masculine scent in a circle around the bed. What an erection! At least he's turned on. So far so good.

I began by lifting his shirt and pressing my lips up against his bare abdomen, kissing him nicely but gently. I brushed the area around his navel and groin with my mouth. I kissed my way up and swirled my tongue around his sensitive nipples before diving right back down again to work on his crotch. 

T was losing his patience and couldn't bear the tease. So I finally unbuckled his pants and inhaled the first waft of his pleasant musk. The uncircumcised head of his erection was already spyhopping above the boxer waistband. Nice! I savoured every moment of foreplay like I always do before finally taking his smooth tip into my mouth. He moaned.

Gradually, our clothes started to come off and we were both completely naked. I greatly enjoyed the shape and design of his tool. It was arousing to look at and nice to play with. I carried on pleasing him with my mouth, swirling my tongue at all the right places and taking him in as deep as I could while swallowing. He moaned as the movement of my throat stroked his nerves.

Him:

"You like to suck?"

The Voice In My Head:

Hell yeah I like to suck. It's been 3 months since I went down on a guy. What else are we gonna do here in the room if I don't at least show the guy what I meant by fun without going all the way?

Me:

"Er... I'm okay with it."

The blowjob went on for about 15 minutes while he pulled me up for intermittent kisses in between. After a couple more enjoyable moans from him, I started to lose my tempo and my jaw was exhausted.

He pulled me up to lie with him and things just took an awkward pause. I took the opportunity to lie on his chest, soaking up his scent, his body and his charm. The closeness turned me on exponentially, but there was still no response from his end.

Me:

"Anything you wanna do to me?"

Him:
"I don't like to suck."

Me:

"Oh that's okay. Have you ever tried bottoming?"

Him:

"Just once a long time ago." 

Me:

"Didn't it hurt? Considering you never really bottomed. How did you do it?"

Him:

"Yeah it hurt. That's why I never do it again." 
"I'm a top. I like to fuck, I like to play with guy's asses and stuff."

Me:
"Yes I understand."

Him:
"We don't have to do anything today. After all that talking and spending time together, it feels really nice. I don't know what to call it, but it feels... I don't know, I don't have the words for it. I'm really glad to have met you. What about you? What do you think?"

The Voice In My Head:
That's nice. Wait, is he telling the truth? Don't fall for it!

Me:
"Yeah I'm really happy to have met you too. But it's okay. You don't have to feel like you need to say those things to me. We're good."

Him: [smile]
"You would feel insecure if I told you I like you?"

Me:
"A little bit. But you know, it's mostly because I'm fond of you too and I didn't expect a meeting arranged through Grindr to turn out the way we are now. I can't quite put my finger on it but... yeah I enjoyed myself and the time we spent together."

I continue to lie on him, inhaling his scent as I ran my fingers around his stubble. God, this feels wonderful. I looked at him and a million questions darted through my mind. I can't help but wonder if he was truly contented with us just lying there. What is this guy really thinking?

The Voice In My Head:
Come on. Let's give it a try. You won't find your answers just by lying around. There's an attractive guy here who wants to fuck. You might not get another opportunity like this again.

Me:

"You know what, let's try it out. Let's go all the way."

Him:

"Really? You want me to?"

Me:

"Yeah let's do that."

T got up, walked over to his backpack and retrieved a packet of condom and some lube. I sat with my head lifted, admiring his naked muscles that were flexing throughout the time he walked and bent over. "Thank heavens for him", I mouthed to the ceiling. He came back to bed, and installed himself on top of me in the folded deck chair position, like he was going to do push ups. It was hot.

He bent down and planted a kiss on my lips. I cast my look up into his eyes. "Do you like this?", he asked. "Yeah", I replied. He started to move his hips, rubbing his tool on my back entrance. His repeated body movement and the brush of his penis on my crevice was extremely erotic.

I was ready to take whatever it is he was going to give me like a man. But for some reason he gave up and said: "I'm sorry. I can't do this. You are not ready and you are too stiff. There is no flow. If we were to fuck. I would hurt you. It would completely change our relationship and what we have here."

I think I inadvertently turned him off with all the talking. I was deeply frustrated with myself. Another failed sex date for me. The worse part is that I couldn't identify the problem or the solution to this whole sexual dilemma of mine. I questioned him bluntly out of frustration: "Can you be honest and tell me what is the problem? I mean what should I do? Or what am I going to do from now to make it right?"

Him:
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing. You don't have to do anything. You wait. You will meet a guy or a boyfriend someday, you will fall in love and you will learn to trust and be comfortable. It will come."

Me:
"What about the other bottoms you meet. What do they usually do that gets you going?"

Him:
"Most bottoms I meet are usually very horny. Maybe you're not. They want me to fuck them hard. But some of them over do it that it becomes an absolute turn off for me. They would yell and beg and moan like we're in gay porn. Like this..."

I giggled as he physically thrust our bodies hard, moaning and reenacting a common gay porn scene on top of me. Oh God, I love it. It was funny, spontaneous, filled with charm and role play. It was definitely one of the reasons why I was even more infatuated with him.

Him:
"And with guys I meet, I usually don't wait that long. I would skip the whole coffee part and then we come here, we fuck and then you go. But with you, I enjoyed our coffee talk and we were having such a good time that I didn't know what to do." 

Me:
"So what exactly were you thinking when we met?"

Him:
"I was thinking that I am physically attracted to him, I want to fuck him soon, but then he is also different and interesting. So what am I going to do now?"

Me:
"I've never heard it put that way before but thank you."

After lying there for a couple more minutes, he suggested that we get cleaned up and head out together for some beer. But I really don't feel like leaving before getting the final chance to climax with him right next to me. For it is the closeness that I feel with this guy that really gets me off.

Unfortunately he wasn't keen. So I had to finish myself off alone in the bathroom as I cleaned up. As we were ready to walk out the door, I pulled him to me and kissed him lightly once again. I didn't know why I did that. Probably it's because I wanted to thank him politely, and also because I had a feeling I might never get the chance to do it again once we're in public.

We went back to the first café by the riverside and chatted over two bottles of beer. We talked about a lot of interesting topics, all except for what happened in the bedroom. There were moments where I wanted to ask, but he seemed uncomfortable in talking about it. I had to let it go without ever getting my answer.

He revealed over some food that I was indeed his fifth 'friend du jour' ever since he arrived in my hometown. Knowing that my prior instincts were true and validated, I suddenly didn't feel so unique any more. Maybe what he said and everything he expressed before was a complete lie to make me feel better. 

After dinner, I asked if he wanted me to leave him on his own or if he wanted to hang out more. To my surprise, he asked me to join him for some more beer at a local hang out spot.

We hung out with each other for another comfortable 5 hours, talking and just sitting around with each other on the old town pavement. T was so cute and I could sense that he was going to become my missed opportunity, or already is.

Gradually, more and more travellers and locals were turning up to this place for cheap beer. Suddenly, the masculine British guy who ignored me from the beginning of this post, walked into the place with another local guy who behaved quite effeminately. T recognised them both from Grindr too.

Here comes the awkward moment. Due to the place being packed, the guy from London and his local friend came to occupy the two vacant chairs that were adjacent to me and T. Everybody reached out and shook each other's hands, but you could feel that it was a handshake that didn't matter.

The vibe was very tense because firstly, all four gay guys have seen each other from Grindr. And secondly, T had a falling out with the local guy a couple of days ago and I was ignored by the masculine guy from London. He was hot, and every bit as attractive in flesh as he was in his thumbnail. 

I was anticipating some sort of friendly exchange now that we're seated together in public, but to my surprise, he didn't even bother talking to me or T. Hey, I thought we gay frat brothers are suppose to stick together?

After another hour or so, T and I started to feel tired and we left. It was the moment I dreaded ever since we sat down together because we were going our separate ways. I was going home the next day and he has other plans to travel. However, he will be flying off in a week's time from my city. I told him to call me when he's town and hope he doesn't stand me up.

At the crossroad of an empty quiet street, we embraced and I hugged him like he wasn't going to call me again. I hated it. But I was also certain that I hold no power over reality and people. I took a long and quiet walk home alone, replaying every single scene that happened to me that day with T at the forefront of my thoughts.

10 Hours With a Backpacker From Germany | ❶

"You can tell your parents that you want to walk for 30 minutes alone in the town on the river, and then we meet for small talk", read the message on my Grindr.

It was an interesting couple of days back in my historical hometown. The time on my phone says 00:35 and here I am curled up in bed, getting ready to sleep when a nice looking blonde in the thumbnail I chatted up earlier wants to meet. I was torn between uncertainty, being lazy and possible regret if I don't respond to his invite.

The Voice In My Head:
Oh come on! This is what you've been anticipating when you packed your nice pair of Calvins, fresh cologne and condoms into your bag this afternoon. You had a 'feeling' that you were going to meet someone on this trip back. It's finally happening after three and a half-months of finding nothing and now you're going to turn him down for bed?

It all began when my mom convinced me and my brother to spend a couple of days together down south. I was enjoying my glass of house pour at a local pub when I fired up Grindr and decided to reach out to two attractive thumbnails. One belonged to a masculine British guy from London who ignored me, and the other was T, the guy from Germany who responded and called me handsome.

I could have pulled myself up to go meet this guy, but I took the risk of losing the interest of this potential candidate by proposing to re-liaise tomorrow. We chatted via an instant messaging app. As I lay in bed, regret started to crept its way into my guts and I wondered if I made the right decision.

The next day with luck still on my side, we finally arranged to meet for the first time by the river. I was a little nervous because I was walking towards something in which I have no absolute clue as to what it is I want out of this meet. Yes, a part of me wanted some fun. It's been three months since my failed attempt to bottom for a hot top, and I'm still not comfortable. 

As I spotted the rugged backpacker from afar while crossing the street, my worry came to a distracting halt and I felt excited.

Me: [handshake]
"Hi, my name is M. Nice to meet you. Have you waited long?"

Him: 
"Hi I'm T. Nice to meet you too. Oh just three minutes. It's nothing."

His breathtakingly turquoise irises were staring right back at me and I drowned for a moment in vulnerable insecurity, masked in intentional confidence. Well whad'ya know. Underneath that scruff and Timberland-inspired backpacking attire is an attractive guy who is kinda hot. That stubble-studded jaw, blonde hair, high cheekbones and cute accent. I wanted to kiss him on the lips.

At that point, I knew that if I fail to jettison all nerves and expectations out the window, I won't be able to function properly on a date. So we adjourned to an alfresco café by the riverside and sat down for a cup of coffee.

Gradually, I allowed the innate conversationalist in me to take over and we talked about a variety of topics, ranging from personal purposes to national culture, travelling to acting, spiritual growth to international relations. It was nice. I wonder what's going through his mind at the moment?

After our coffee, T told me he needed some time alone with his computer to search for a flight home, but suggested to meet again after he was done. I didn't mind the interruption at all because a guy on the road has to do what he's gotta to do. But at the back of my head, a protective voice was questioning: Are you sure that wasn't just him ending the date?

Knowing better than to let these self-destructive thoughts get to me, I decided to walk around town and take some pictures. It was nice and I got to enjoy two hours of sightseeing on my own. However at the same time, I was also constantly checking my phone like a lovesick teenager. His text finally came and my trust for him went up a bar. So he really did mean what he said.

In five minutes, we met up again and picked up from where we left off. One of the most memorable topics we discussed was about the art of acting. I've always been fascinated by the deep mechanics of putting yourself into a particular role or character. We talked about bloopers, corpsing, getting yelled at by the director, understanding film production etc

At one point, he grabbed me on my shoulder to stop us in our tracks and looked me in the eye to show me an example of how two people would act out a scene. God. It was one of the most intensely attractive moments I've come to experience with another guy. Oh boy, if we became boyfriends, can you imagine all the acting fun we will have?

Later on, I brought him into a local establishment to try some dessert. There, we talked more. After dessert, he suggested that we walk around and look for a nice place to have another cup of coffee. The time was already 4pm with signs of grey skies approaching. 

We walked past this place and he greeted two other fellow travellers who were sitting on the patio. I am not making this up, but I felt a certain vibe with the way they were looking at me. And suddenly, it hit me: "You are probably not the only guy they've seen him with. God knows how many types of us he's taken through this route". My insecurity took another damaging dip.

As we carried on walking, I could feel this impatient vibe growing between us. I don't know if it's him or if it was me. But I swear, my intuitions are never to be doubted sometimes. The voice in my head asked: Are we gonna have some fun later or am I 'feeling things'? Are we ready to engage in sex again?

Then, while checking out the cafés by the river which were all closed, the first subtle invitation from him happened. He stopped us in our tracks and casually asked: "Where do you want to go?" 

There it was. The subtle key question that was an invitation to some fun. But still, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go ahead. With the excuse that his message wasn't clear enough, I suggested that we continue walking in search of a suitable place to have our coffee.

We gallivanted for another 20 minutes or so and still no place came up. It came to a point where it was getting really obvious that the both of us were tired and losing our patience with the whole aimless wandering around.

Him: 
"Or we can go back to my place and hang out there?"

The Voice In My Head:
God. That's the cue happening already. What are we gonna say? Come on think!

Me:
"Er... Is there anything to drink at your place?"

Him:
"Well we can just stop by a convenient store and buy some chilled coffee."

I remained silent for about five seconds to find him watching me closely as I fumbled for an answer. It was awkward, but so seductively exciting at the same time.

Me:
"How far are we from your place? Does it take long?"

Him:
"Oh just 10 minutes by foot."

The Voice In My Head:
Come on, tick tock. Make a decision! Say yes you idiot. Say yes.

Me:
"Sure! We can go back to your place. Let's go!"

I stared right back into his ocean eyes as I uttered the last sentence and there it was again, that awkward but seductively thrilling sexual tension, accentuated by a lingering eye contact. It was hot. And I'm feeling a little dizzy.

We switched course and my heart rate shot up in nervousness. I could feel a mild panic attack happening inside. I was excited, I was scared, I was anxious. The image of me and him being physically naked with each other sent some signs of apprehension to my guts. 

The fact that both parties were aware of what we're about to do next and where this date is heading, makes the whole walking and talking a lot more awkward and harder to concentrate. I have done walks like these many times throughout the past 3 years of my journey and I never liked them. But I also know that this is just something that I need to get use to, and will get use to in time as I meet more people for sex.

We stopped by a convenient store along the way and he bought us some chilled drinks and chocolate bars. The same insecure thoughts about me being the 'numbered guy' crept up again as we were paying at the cashier.

After a further 5 minutes on foot, I suddenly found him leading me into an old familiar street that I used to spend my childhood running around with my cousins. We would cycle around, play tag, firecrackers and a whole range of other games. It's not a very elegant neighbourhood and I never thought I'd actually revisit this particular spot on this trip, but here we are.

Within the vicinity, there is this particular dodgy building that I always avoided. Little did I know that 10 years down the road, in the year 2014, I would actually enter this particular dilapidated 4-storey complex with an attractive guy from Germany. In addition to that, I would also be doing it from the shoes of a guy who is no longer fearful about his sexual attraction for men.

As he pulled out his keys to unlock the entrance into the building, he waved and exchanged a couple of words with the owner who was loitering outside. And just like before, it suddenly dawned on me how this whole scenario must have looked like from the owner's perspective, and that I am not the only 'friend du jour' who has followed T all the way back to his bedroom.

"We really are just like any other guy he meets for company and a fuck", the reality hit me for a moment and I felt a stab of disappointment. But the date has to go on and I needed to get real.

A lady with an old musical instrument, meager living conditions, dark storage spaces, unpleasant odours and plain interiors were a couple of things I witnessed while climbing the staircase to the highest floor.

The common area before his room sat a mother and a daughter. I acknowledged them with some form of gesture even though they shot me a certain 'friend du jour' look and there was that possibility of them knowing what T and I were up to. 

The temporary room he rented was made up of thinly partitioned walls, which is the only flimsy element separating the private space T and I were about to have some fun in with the rest of the residents on the floor.

In the room, there was a working table and a chair right next to his queen size bed. The bathroom was en-suite and the space quite large. I relaxed myself comfortably on the bed and him on the chair as we continued to chat with our chocolates and beverages. 

As we finish our snack and took sips of our drinks, the gap between our dialogues were starting to widen and the awkward silence was getting more conspicuous than ever. We both knew it was time to get down to business but neither parties were willing to make the next obvious move.

Me:
"What are you doing on the chair? Here. Come lie down with me."

He took a sip of his beverage, nodded his head and came to lie side by side with me on his bed. We continued to make small talk as our arms and legs gently rubbed against each other. His scruff and leg hair provided that extra tingling sensation. My blood simmered in excitement and in eroticism. He was tanned, athletic, charismatic and attractive. I think I love him!

The both of us finally ran out of things to say and laid there in uncomfortable silence. It was so obvious what we wanted and what is going to come next, but the flow was a little off. I took the initiative to massage and caress his athletic thighs with my fingers in an erotically loving way and he reciprocated. 

His scent was intoxicating. I can't quite put my finger on how to describe it, but it was very him. I turned and positioned my head near his chest to reach out for more, parking my chin on his right shoulder and my nose on his neck. I inhaled his heavenly scent. It was what I desperately needed after three months of finding no one. I revelled in the closeness and the inexplicable melodic peace that always seems to serenade my heart whenever I am in the arms of another guy. I wanted to stay like this and smell him forever.

[ To Be Continued... 10 Hours With a Backpacker From Germany | ❷ ]

All Journeys Have Secret Destinations

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveller is unaware.” - Martin Buber

When Will It Be My Turn?

For those who can still recall the early beginnings of my journey, would remember that it was my conversation with a divorced but successful man named R back in 2011 that jump-started the entire process of wanting to wake up from denial and face my homosexual fears head on.

R was first mentioned in a fifth entry of this journal titled 'The Day I Surrendered and Came Out to Myself' and then again in 'Coming Into Your Life For A Reason'. I regard him as a pivotal chance encounter who probably saved a young guy like me from going ahead with my choice of wanting to live through a "straight" life.

We never really kept in touch after going our separate ways on the pavement that night. I suppose my hounding him for sensitive answers in reference to my own battle with homosexuality probably did the trick. And also because I think our visions in life originate from opposing sides of the world. He was the good-looking and successful 50 year old gay man living in the free world, and I, the still dependent lost soul behind this journal in his twenties from the third.

R is an attractive guy for his age and there are moments where I sometimes wonder about the slight possibility of us getting together. I don't know how that's going to happen or if it'll work out but you can't really blame a guy for fantasising.

About a year ago, I sent him a nice gratitude card and added him on Facebook to try and make amends to the dynamics of how we saw each other. We got in touch for a bit, but nothing much happened after that. So I kept my distance out of respect, and he out of whatever reason he chooses. I wondered too at that moment if R found someone in his life and was happy? If so, I would be too for him.

While scrolling through my Facebook news feed the other day, my hunch was validated when I saw pictures of him and his boyfriend enjoying themselves on vacation in a beautiful foreign city. 

On one hand, I was genuinely happy for him that things are working out really well between him and his new guy. But on the other, I did feel a little envious of the whole package I was seeing. You know, R and his boyfriend. Lovers on holiday? It was a romantic dream of mine too which seems to be happening only to other people.

"Excuse me, whatever happens to other people, is none of your business", the inner interventionist intervenes with a smug on his face.

So after allowing myself to burn-off some I'm-human-too envy, I decided that I am not that person with the small heart. And that I am truly going to be happy for him and his new guy. For I really shouldn't, at the expense of not finding my own romance story, feel threatened that almost everybody around me has. So here's to R and his boyfriend. May they stay happy and in love together.

My First Time at an Anonymous HIV Screening

So today, after weeks of dilly-dallying, I finally made an appointment and went for my first anonymous HIV screening. Within the past 10 months, I've had maybe about two occasions where the guys I was having fun with attempted to enter me without protection. The incident happened within the heat of the moment which can be re-read here and here. 

I know, I know. It's not a big deal for somebody who didn't go all the way with full penetration, but with pre-cum and exposed wounds and tears in the anal area these days, you just never know. Let's just say that with everything that has been going on in my life, the worse always happens when you least expect it to. So I am going to be smart in taking responsibility for my own life.

The place I went to is an independent foundation that offers anonymous HIV screening to an array of candidates such as transsexuals, sex workers, men-who-have-sex with men (yup, their term) and drug users. Basically individuals within the country who can't openly go to a normal clinic and tell the doctor these things. 

During my hour long journey to the centre, I didn't feel anything at all. For I relate it very much to the emotions of how I felt the first time I was walking to the gay bar and sauna about three years ago. But then again, no matter how much you say it doesn't affect you, there is always that slight tingle of anxiety behind your head with the question: "What if it was positive and you have it? What would you do? Do you really think you can still be this calm and composed?"

Then the other side of my head went: "Okay M,  let's not be dramatic. Being positive doesn't necessarily mean death nowadays. There's nothing we can do no more to change what has been done if it does turn out for the worse. Let's not worry about that and just move forward with living your life. I mean, aren't you sick of all the issues you're going through already? Come on. It's not like this is your first year as a human being. Just shush! Stop over-thinking unnecessarily."

The centre was located in this really dodgy area of the city. I dreaded the long walk because for some reason, I felt like the whole world was watching me on camera. I arrived, filled in the forms and waited for my number to be called. There were a number of other guys at the centre too. Some were shy, some were silently judging others, and some who were conspicuously nervous and shaking. I could literally feel all kinds of energy in the waiting room, but ignored them all and minded my own business because I don't have time for other people's emotions.

The lady that attended to me was American and a volunteer. As we shot the breeze over some paperwork, she reminded me so much of my love for the free world, and how I aspire to build my life in a cultural environment where I can genuinely be who I am in the face of freedom and equality. At least, in comparison to where I am at the moment.

Not long after, my number was called and I went into the screening room. "Have you ever thought about what you're going to do if the results do come out positive? Have you prepared yourself?", asked another volunteer. I gave him my thoughts and he seems pretty confident that I am aware of what it means.

He told me that if it was positive, I will have to go to a hospital and get it confirmed. If the results are negative, then it's safe to say that I am clear because I am within the period where it would be detected.

He pricked my finger and dripped my blood sample into the tester. Fast forward 30 minutes later, the results came out negative and I was clear. It felt good being able to conclude that I can concretely move on without worrying at the back of my head if the last two vulnerable occasions did put me at risk. 

But what I did learn from this visit however, is that apart from it being about me, taking responsibility for my own life and getting myself tested, is that it also ignited a more powerful sense of compassion and respect in me for every other positive/negative person who went through a similar process.