Relationships aren’t easy. No matter whether you’re friends or lovers, each relationship is accompanied by its own set of issues. When you introduce sex into these relationships, things get exponentially more complicated.
Tuesday, I engaged in unprotected sex with M.E. It happened in the middle of the night in the passion of a moment, however, there is never an excuse. People’s lives are at stake. I tell you about the poor decisions and the mistakes I’ve made because I hope you can learn from them.
From that morning on, I was on damage control. I’d already talked to him about what transpired between us, and we agreed to get tested and share our results to ensure we were safe going forward. I called a doctor’s office and made an appointment that Wednesday following work to have an STD test.
As I walked into the doctor’s office, I noticed a few other men sitting in the waiting room. I had never been to this facility before. I was curious if they were there for the same thing I was. I began to wonder what was going through their heads. Were they petrified? Were they already infected? etc. I myself began to worry a little. I wasn’t particularly worried until I walked into the waiting room. There was nothing I could do at that point, so I tried to calm my nerves. The only good part about this was it made me quite ready to fill a cup with my urine sample. They also drew blood and told me to call in three days for my results.
Now, it was the waiting game. I couldn’t do anything and would have to wonder for three days.
That night, I had plans with P to go see Silence, The Musical. After my tests, I walked all the way downtown to meet her for dinner near the theater. Dinner was very nice. I got her caught up on all the latest action in my life. She’s always incredibly supportive, even when I make poor life choices.
We went to the show, and about two minutes in, I noticed how attractive one of the male actor/dancers was. It was a small theater, and any time he was on stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When they came out for curtain call, he caught my eye, and we made eye contact. There was a bit of an awkward moment, but I was crushing a bit.
I wasn’t intimidated because I’d already dated someone who worked on Broadway. This was Off-Broadway. I didn’t think twice about what I was about to do. That night, when I got home, I decided to do some research (and when I say research, I mean stalking). I pulled out the Playbill and looked to see if I could find him on Facebook. Much to my surprise, he was on there. I decided to message him. What the hell, why not? What did I have to lose?
I’m sure you’re wondering who this is, and I really hope this doesn’t come off incredibly creepy. I myself can’t believe I’m about to send you this. (And, something tells me I may not be the first).
First off, I came to see Silence tonight and thought you were incredibly cute and incredibly talented. Your mother must be so proud.
Second off, I have no idea if you’re single or even gay. But gay or straight, single or taken, I’d love to strike up a conversation with you. On the flip side, I fully understand if this makes you uncomfortable.
Anyway, with nothing to lose but a little dignity, I thought I’d give it a shot. Hit me back if you’re interested in chatting some time. If not, enjoy the flattery…
Then, I noticed he was a friend of Broadway, the guy I dated for ten months. I pulled out my phone and texted him to see what their relationship was. His response was, “Who is that?” I explained who he was and how they were Facebook friends. “Oh yes. We audition together. HOT!! You dating?” I told him, “No. I just cold called him on Facebook after seeing his show… LOL. We’ll see what happens. Think I creeped him out?” He felt I did creep him out, but I explained how I had nothing to lose.
Sadly, I never heard back from him. It just wasn’t meant to be.
Much later that night, I received a text from the guy I had sex with when I cheated on N. We’d been texting a bit recently after noticing each other on Grindr. He asked if I was up. I replied, and he asked if he could come over. Apparently, I was getting a booty call. It was about 11:30, but I didn’t see the harm. After all, I did fantasize about the first time we had sex quite often. It was something my mind went back to many times. This isn’t because of the cheating. It was simply because the sex was that good.
He came over, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit. He immediately commented on how crazy it was that my new apartment looked exactly like my last. He began taking his shoes off before hopping on the bed with me. He immediately began making out with me interspersed with conversation. He never got closure with how messed up things ended between him, N and myself.
He wanted to talk a lot about him. I would have been fine if N never even came up in conversation. I learned they got together once after I told him to take a hike. It was hysterical how much their accounts of this encounter were completely different. The only commonality was how much disdain they had for each other. At one point he mentioned how dirty N was. I asked him to clarify as in physically or as in naughty. He then went on to describe a particular body part that would only have been encountered during sex and how disgusting it was. He then went on to tell me they never had sex. He told me N just gave him a blowjob and he finished on his face. He pointed out his surprise I ever dated N. N’s account of the story was they met on the street. After seeing him, he couldn’t believe I would hook up with someone so ugly, let alone cheat on him with someone of that caliber. All I could do was laugh my a$$ off in my head. These two were ridiculous. I was so happy I cut things off with both when I did.
After the N conversation concluded, he really wanted to have sex with me. He mentioned how amazing it was the last time we hooked up, and he told me he hadn’t had sex with a man since the previous summer. I told him how hot it was last time we hooked up and how I referred back to it many times in my mind. With that, the clothes began to strip off.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were intertwined in each other’s embrace making out. I found myself lying on my stomach with him on top of me. I knew he would try to penetrate me, but I wasn’t game for that. The last time he did that, I sprang from the bed because he did it with no preparation and full force. I wasn’t about to let that happen again. He tried and tried, and I never relaxed to allow entry. I think he got embarrassed with his fumbling, and he made a comment. I complimented him and told him he was too large for me. We switched positions, much to his chagrin, and now I was the one on top. He was on his back, and I put his legs up on my shoulders.
He told me how much he enjoyed me inside him because I hit his prostrate just right. With that, I slipped inside him. It felt amazing. It was just as good as the last time I played over and over again in my mind’s eye. He loved it too. After a short while, he finished on his abdomen. Seconds later, I alerted him I was about to finish. He replied, “I want you to shoot inside me,” and I did. For me, this was a first, and it felt incredible.
I’m not sure why, but I had no problem finishing this time. It completely came naturally and without over thought. I felt amazing and incapacitated all in one. We lay there next to each other speechless for a minute before even moving or talking. We were in euphoria.
When that wore off, I became the topic of conversation. N told him about the blog when everything went down. He told me he read part of it and still didn’t understand why I wrote it. He also asked this story not make an appearance, but I find it too important to exclude. He pointed out I was looking for a boyfriend, and that was not what he was looking for at all. He pointed out how I was going about things all the wrong way if I wanted to find love. I explained to him all my trials and tribulations and what I was looking for in the end. He fully understood.
Then he made a comment about how stupid we were to not use a condom. I agreed. I’m sure he was far more worried about the situation than I was since I finished inside him. Apparently, with everything I’ve been through, I still didn’t learn my lesson. I wasn’t being responsible.
This was my wake-up call. I’d hit rock bottom. I’d gotten so reckless with my life. I needed to stop before I did something that could end my life. What was I doing? How could I be this stupid? This wasn’t how to find love — Having unprotected sex with the guy I cheated on my ex with. No more excuses. No more Grindr hookups. No more strangers. If I wasn’t finding love, I would be single and celibate for some time until I got myself under control. This was my turning point.
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Ever since I joined the gay community, eye-contact has been important to me. From a guy on a date, to the eyes I gaze into during sex, to the guys I check out at the gym, making and reading eye-contact is critical.

My theory on gaydar is simple. Eye-contact. There is eye-contact, and there is eye-contact. If you make eye-contact with a man, and he’s heterosexual, he will slowly look away, and probably not turn back (unless you’re staring like a creeper!).
If you make eye-contact with a man, and he is gay, or possibly in the closet, when he catches your eye, he will quickly turn away. Straight guys will look at you, but then there are that certain few who try and sneak a second look. It’s usually fairly quick, but if you’re sharp you’ll always catch it. For me, the tell is usually the double take. If he’s interested, he will turn back again to see if you’re still looking his way. That’s when you go over and offer him a treat ;).
To the topic, I notice guys who keep me directly in their gaze as well as those who pay attention to me in their periphery. Having any interest in me at all is the giveaway. The straight guys at the gym are just too preoccupied with their little hands or the little girl on the stairclimber to notice I exist.
It’s hard to put it into words. I guess it’s something that you learn to recognize over time. It’s more of an art than a science.
I did read somewhere if a straight guy makes eye-contact, you’re supposed to talk to him calmly and approach slowly….then force him down on his back and rub his belly. Just kidding…
I don’t know. Maybe I’ve put in too much analysis here. Maybe gaydar means you just know, instinctively. Maybe trying to apply behavioral formulas is not what gaydar is all about, and if you don’t get it, well… I guess you just don’t get it.
Eye-contact on a date is equally important. I went on an a4a date recently (you’ll hear about it soon enough) where the guy looked past me for 90% of the date. The only time he made eye-contact were during the quick glances back to me periodically. It was very off-putting, especially since he had such gorgeous eyes! His other body language contradicted his eyes, telling me he was interested and having a good time. I don’t know if it was due to nerves, lack of interest or just a personal flaw, but no matter the reason, I felt ignored for most of the date.
Eye-contact during sex is of the utmost importance to me. I understand the dynamics of sex, and I fully understand when a man needs to page through the bank of hot guys in his head to get off. Things sometimes get stale. Sometimes you need to close your eyes to concentrate. But, if he can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds without getting uncomfortable, we’ve got a problem.
Sex is intimate. He needs to be there, and he needs to be there with me! When I gaze it his eyes with all the passion of my being, I expect the same in return. Men don’t make it into my bed without a strong connection. I expect the feeling to be mutual.
When Broadway and I first started having sex, I would look into his eyes, and he would look away after a few seconds, as if he was uncomfortable. He could see how much of my heart I was putting out there, and he wasn’t meeting me half way. Because of this, I debated if he was simply using me for sex.
Eventually the eye-contact improved, and we could gaze into each others eyes for long periods of time without uttering a word. But when the eye-contact started to curtail again, I knew the relationship was heading downhill.
San Francisco made great eye contact. We woke in the morning simply staring into each others eyes. We only knew each other a short period of time, but I knew he was a passionate man who gave himself fully into a relationship.
There have been others I’ve slept with since who have great eye-contact. I can not only feel the passion they bring to the bedroom, but I can also see it. It says a lot about a man who can simply gaze into your eyes. His confidence. His tenderness. His passion. These are the men that are keepers to me. It’s all in the eyes.

This is my analysis of eye-contact. I’m sure you have your own, or maybe you completely disagree with me. Feel free to comment and put me in my place.
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