Posts Tagged oral sex
After I had unprotected sex with San Francisco, I came home and marched myself straight to the local clinic for the free OraSure HIV test. I couldn’t believe how quick, easy and painless the process was. And, I had the results in twenty minutes — There was no waiting around worrying.
After that, I made a promise to myself to get tested on a regular basis. It didn’t matter if I was having unprotected sex or not, I wanted to get into a routine. I entered a new world when I came out, and that new world comes with different risks. I needed to do everything I could to protect not only myself, but also others I come in contact with.
I marked my calendar back then for six months later. That day arrived, and I went back to the same clinic. When they called my name, I went into the back room and sat with the woman who administered my first test. I didn’t have any reason to be worried, but I was still nervous and anxious. She asked me what brought me in to the clinic that day for the test. I explained to her I had unprotected sex six months ago, and I came in to get tested to make sure I was still negative. I told her I wanted to make it a regular habit to get tested, so I was back again six months later.
That’s when she started to scold me. She said, “That’s not what this test is meant for. Part of the reason we give this test is also educational. If you are having unprotected sex, then the test is warranted, but you shouldn’t be having unprotected sex, especially with people you are unsure of their status. You may be having unprotected oral sex, but again, part of this program is we educate you about the consequences of that. Unless you have an open cut in your mouth, you don’t need the test.” She went on and on almost berating me for coming in to know my status. I explained to her while “I’m having protected sex, you can never be 100% sure of anyone else’s status at any given time, even if you are in a committed relationship. I wanted to start a routine of testing for my own peace-of-mind.”
She replied, “That’s not what this test is for. We’ll give it to you today, but that’s not what the test is meant for.”
I was flabbergasted. She was harassing me for being overly cautious. I was having protected penetration sex, but no one has protected oral sex these days. What’s the point. Let’s be realistic here. And, who monitors open cuts in their mouth on a daily basis. Maybe I brushed my tongue a little too rough that day. That’s not going to be top of mind when I’m getting physical with a man.
I couldn’t believe she was giving me a hard time for going above and beyond the norm. If I told her I had unprotected sex a year ago and just decided to come in, she had every right to educate me on my shortcomings, but I felt very insulted she was telling me I was wrong for being sure of my status.
Twenty minutes later, she came out to the waiting room and brought me back into the testing room. She told me my status was negative and asked if I would like a copy of the paperwork. I graciously accepted and went on with my day.
When I told friends what happened, they were shocked. I arrived at work and told coworkers about what happened, and they couldn’t believe it. My coworkers and I had actually been working on trying to win business from the company who administers the test, so we are all very versed in the product and its benefits. Many of my straight coworkers were interested in getting tested following the pitch just because it was so easy and convenient. Everyone should know his or her status — After all, knowing is love.
I could understand if the woman gave me a hard time on a financial basis. If she told me the free test was meant for those less fortunate who couldn’t afford it or felt strongly they needed the test due to exposure to and HIV positive individual, I would have understood. That wasn’t the case. She wasn’t telling me I didn’t need a free test. She was telling me I didn’t need the test at all. I felt she was doing people a disservice if this is her policy with all those who came in for routine testing. Peace-of-mind is a wonderful thing, and no one should be denied that. I had mine for the next six months, but I would certainly have to find a new location to have the test administered six months from now.Follow @onegayatatime
Tuesday came and went, and N and I barely talked. We usually messaged each other during the day at work on Gchat, but that day he wasn’t able to sign on. I was a little suspicious, but he said it happens periodically. I asked him to come over that night, and he said he would come by late. He wanted to go to the gym since he didn’t go the night before and ate and drank a lot at the graduation party.
I needed to further our discussion about what we were doing and where we were heading. I wasn’t satisfied with the current path laid out, so something needed to change.
When he came over, things were awkward. I didn’t get nearly the warm greeting I usually got. He hadn’t eaten, so he ordered a ton of food — Enough to feed three people. He also brought along supplies to smoke. We went out on the balcony so he could smoke. I was still feeling nauseous and not eating much. He mentioned smoking might be a good thing for my nausea. I hadn’t thought of that, and immediately agreed. The idea of smoking in my state wasn’t appealing, but the idea of feeling better sounded great at that point.
I asked him if we could talk about us. I wanted to get to him before his state of mind was altered. He responded, “Can I eat my food first?” Begrudgingly, I agreed, but this was torture for me. I knew it wouldn’t be a quick meal, and this was already eating at me for days. But, I would have to wait longer. We chatted a bit while I watched him eat, but the conversation was superficial and lacked substance.
When he was finishing eating, I was getting very flirtatious with him. I don’t know why I did this. Maybe I thought it was the only way to grab his attention. Maybe I was simply horny. Either way, we were making out in the kitchen and moved things to the bedroom. We had some fun and pleasured each other.
Warning: The following paragraph may be more graphic than you are used to reading here. When we got into bed, I started with the heavy petting and started using my mouth. After a short bit, we switched, and N gave me head. He always told me how much he enjoyed my dick and the taste of it. Whether or not this was just a line I will never know. I noticed immediately he was utilizing some new techniques. Of course my mind began to wonder where these came from? Another man recently perhaps? Either way, it felt great. Normally it took me some time to finish, but not tonight. He was finding all the right spots. I was very close, and right when he went deep, I exploded down the back of his throat. I didn’t make a noise when this was happening. I assumed he knew and that’s why he went deeper. When he pulled back, he asked why I didn’t tell him I was going to finish. I reminded him of an earlier discussion we had in which he told me I never needed to warn him of that. A big part of me did it on purpose. I did it in a power move. It made me feel like I had the upper hand. However, the power shifted almost immediately. He didn’t swallow all of my seed. A good portion was deposited back al over his hand. He motioned as if he was going to slap my chest with his semen-covered hand, but I protested. Instead, he quickly shifted and slid a semen-covered finger across my forehead and proclaimed, “Simba” and began to perform a victory dance around my bedroom. I have never before been so disrespected in my life. This one act solidified in my mind my status as his convenient booty call. No one disrespects someone they care about in this manner.
When we were finished, I ended up, arms folded, resting naked on his chest. Our faces were locked on each other, and I posed my question again, “Now can we talk about us?”
This whole time I felt like such a woman. I was doing all the things a needy girl does in a relationship, and I didn’t like it. But, I didn’t know what else to do. I needed answers, and I needed to know if he still had feelings for me.
So, I started the conversation. I asked, “What do you want from this?” I didn’t get a response. So, I posed another a better-phrased question, “Do you like where things are going?” He responded with a definitive yes. He explained he really enjoys spending time with me and thinks things were progressing well. I then asked, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Again, he said yes, and I agreed with him. We only knew each other a month and a half and he was spending almost every night in my bed. I took a lot of the blame here. I should have known better then to put us into that situation considering how new a gay relationship was for him. I asked if he wanted to take a step back, and again he said yes. I agreed and explained maybe we shouldn’t spend so much time together. In my mind, in light of recent events, I was already taking a step back to protect my own feelings. Now, I was going to give him all the space he needed. I was no longer going to be the first to initiate contact. I would respond to his messages, but I was going to give him a lot of space.
I know my hands were not clean at all. I had sex with another man. I justified it in my mind because it was just sex, and it was just to even the playing field for the suspected cheating. I had no emotional attachment to the man. But, in my mind, what N did at the bar was so much worse. I felt he was seeking out another relationship under my nose, not just a physical need. I now know how warped and hypocritical all this sounds, but at the time, it made sense to me.
I then took the opportunity to address N’s time spent on Grindr and at the gym. As he did two days earlier, he told me he was not actively seeking anything. He was just talking, “and not like ‘I want to stick it in your ass’ talking.” I knew better. No one just talks on Grindr. After all, it’s how I met N, and it’s how I met the random hookup. I wasn’t buying his line about just talking at all.
I told him if this was going to work, he needed to be completely honest with me. I could stand not being exclusive (or so I thought), but if that was the case, I needed to be kept in the loop. Looking back, I knew better. I don’t share my men. I knew that was not an arrangement I could be a part of, but I wasn’t ready to let him go.
We talked about how he didn’t need to spend every night with in my bed. He lived across the street. Some nights we could just do our own thing. He needed freedom, and I needed to give it to him if I wanted to keep him.
With that, it was starting to get late. I walked over to my phone and asked what time he needed to get up in the morning so I could set the alarm. He responded, “Well, I was going to go home.” I think my facial expression must have said a lot, because he immediately began to back peddle. He said, “No, but I’ll stay.” I said, “You can go home. You don’t have to stay. It’s fine.” I wasn’t even simply being passive aggressive. He insisted on staying now, and I gave him one more out. At this point, he pulled down the covers and got under the sheets.
The fact that he wanted to leave after our discussion painted a clearer picture for me. This was over. I didn’t fully know it yet, but we were done.Follow @onegayatatime