Swimming through the waves of men
Not knowing that 1 + 1 could actually result in 3, 4 or even more. This fantasy of mine only existed in gay porn videos. Especially being in your early twenties… or so that’s how it was for me at the beginning.
When I was 23 I worked as a salesman for men’s wear. At the weekends this was my means of making that extra money we somehow all desperately needed. And then it happened on that Saturday. That day on a very normal afternoon I was wearing tall white socks with a pair of old sneakers. What seemed like hotpants was actually a very tight pair of shorts in jeans fabric. The cut was very tight so my thighs were really popping out… and my butt even more. If you’d slap it you would have hurt your hand because my butt is (and still is till this day) very hard when you slap it. I wouldn’t say hard as a rock, more like very firm jelly.
Two older men entered the store. They were about 50 years old. Both had long streaks of grey hair and very bright white teeth. Dentists. A gay couple. One was a bit shy hiding behind his glasses when we made eye-contact. The other one had a daring stare in his eyes and we just matched. Our energy that was.
Their visits happened more frequently and I ended up giving one of them my mobile number. An open relationship. They’d been in love for so many years and somehow had come to an agreement that both could sleep around with other men as long as they wouldn’t fall in love with this – according to my perception – piece of candy.
Up till today I keep in touch with the couple I met that time. Every month I still hear from them but now as my fairy godfathers. Although they were my first introduction to an open relationship in which both partners didn’t have to be in my bed at the same time, I have been meeting up with different boys who are in an open relationship. It doesn’t define my preference but it’s definitely a succulent and unfolding aspect of mine.
I realised that I became a master of my own energy. I could flirt and easily sense the mutual attraction. Still a bit of an experiment up till today. However, I experienced that most of my sex dates were encounters with men already involved in a relationship. I’d give bits and pieces and if not my body as a whole to feel that load of affection. They would linger for a few months and then the candy eventually would wear off. The excitement for them wasn’t there anymore which would set them off looking for a new kind of flavour.
A few single evenings I had the nasty experience of being all douched and ready – not eating so I’d keep my insides clean – for them to cancel on me. Me, myself and I not trying to act hurt or disappointed just would text back that it was OK.
And when I came to think of it I made myself believe that it actually should be OK. I knew that they had already found that someone special to share their house, car, mortgage and life with. I was their candy. And I (mostly) knew what I had gotten myself into from the very beginning.
Sleeping with someone else’s man and mostly having the permission of their other half made it somehow kinky in my mind. Balancing out the emotions was a tricky thing. I would chase those beautiful pink nipples. Make them wear those tall white socks. I enjoyed being an ally of someone’s relationship. I could describe the energy best as a moist flow. A wave. Hitting me from all directions and leaving a single blood stain. Rinsed.