Author: pgentle7

Introspection

“Have you thought about whether you want to stay with your wife?”

The young Indian medical resident looks up from her paper where she’s nimbly taking notes of my confession.

“Yes,” I tell her. “Everything is great right now. I love her very much. I realize that might be difficult for some people to understand…”

One month ago, this doctor put me on Wellbutrin, an antidepressant, because I was sad all the time for no reason. Now I have energy, my marriage has never been better, and I’m happily cheating and fooling around with guys. I’m baffled by my behaviour. Searching for answers, I found this article. If you’re bipolar you can become hypersexual and totally fuck up your life. Later, you look back on it and with horror and regret, seeing a complete stranger.

That’s why I’m here. I’m not a lying cheat. I must be hypomanic! It all fits.

She searches the folders on her computer for a screening check-list, but the Internet is down.

I’m not gay. Am I? Is my whole life a lie? I close my eyes for a moment and shift uneasily. I can feel the paper bunching under my sweaty ass on the medical table.

Wordlessly, she puts on some latex gloves and reaches into the cupboard for something, squirts it on her hands and lathers it in. I lean back on my palms as she wraps her hand around my penis, stroking out an erection.

She locks her beautiful brown eyes onto mine, then reaches under her skirt and dips a finger into her dripping pink pussy, then slowly presses it to my lips. I can taste her scent on the latex, a hint of exotic spices. I moan approvingly.

The doctor gets her knees up on the table, straddling me, carefully lowering her body over my penis. Her long black hair falls against my chest. She winces just a little as I enter her. I feel the slippery softness, her juices oozing out over my balls as we start to fuck. The paper tears away beneath us.

“Oh yes, there it is!”  She’s found the check-list she was looking for, and I’m wrenched from my reverie. I was just daydreaming. 

Definitely not gay.

The doctor reads from her screen. “Are you spending lots of money lately? Are you taking a lot of risks? Do you ever feel in danger when you meet your… partners?”

“Well, there are obviously some risks with meeting up with strangers,” I tell her, “but I wouldn’t say I feel in any danger.”

She scribbles more notes. “And you mentioned you were having some insomnia.”

“Sometimes I wake up at 3 or 4 and can’t get back to sleep.” People suffering from hypomania have far too much energy to sleep.

“And when do you go to bed?”

“Ten.”

“Six hours then. That’s more than I get,”  she chuckles.

Eventually she leaves to talk to my regular doctor.

When the door closes behind her, I want to vomit. My wife and I have visited him almost monthly since we had kids. He’s so wholesome its unreal, like Mr. Roger’s with a stethoscope. The doc helped my kids through every fever for five years now. In this same room, he confidently reassured my wife when we thought our baby girls was dangerously underweight.

I imagine the shocked look on his face as she tells him about my infidelity. They’re probably gonna put me on Prozac or something and I’ll be a fucking zombie. I’M SCREWED. My life is crumbling. What have I done? My throat tightens and I stare at the door. How will I ever face him? I’m afraid I’ll cry.

But when the door finally opens, it’s her again. “The doctor has decided to keep you on the Wellbutrin,” she tells me.

“So I’m not bipolar?!” I ask, in utter disbelief.

“He thinks you’re exploring now because you’re just happier and more confident.”

She offers to let me come in for regular STI screening, but I decline. I’m more comfortable with the anonymous clinic.

There’s more good news. “He’s going to password protect the file, so no-one else can access it,” she tells me, “Not even myself.”

“Thank-you,” I tell her, and dart from the office clutching my prescription.

Happier and more confident.

I like it.

I’m back on Grindr before I’m out the door, to share the good news.

Beside the Water Heater

I message #4, up for some fun today? Damn, he’s gotta go to Toronto tonight. Plus he just sprained his ankle. And he’s a little sweaty because he just got off work. And his roomies are home. No worries. I move on.

A few minutes later: “If you don’t mind slowness [from the sprained ankle] I would really appreciate having my cock worshipped.”

I’m in. He orders me to come in 10 minutes, park up the street NOT IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE. Don’t come to the door until he says. I do it all and message him in front of his house. He opens the door and I slip inside wordlessly, take off my shoes.

“Take your shoes with you,” he whispers. I’m looking around. Who else is here? He limps down the steps into the unfinished basement. Pink insulation. Wood dust on the bare concrete.

“I can hear them coming here,” he tells me.

“What if they come?” I whisper back.

He points to the window near the ceiling. Cobwebs and dandelions on the other side.

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I’m already planning some exit excuse, “Gee thanks for lending me that cable, bud.” brushing past the oblivious roommate up the stairs. Or maybe his Mom. Who knows.

He’s standing there in the middle of the room so I unbutton his pants and they come down and out it pops again, that delicious uncut cock I remember. I’m more experienced now and I want more. I pull down his pants further so I can get in right under his sack. He’s a little sweaty from a day’s work (whatever he does) but I like it that way.

That midterm kid on Monday was a challenge, but this guy’s fun to blow cause he loves it. I suck him and his cock inflates and fills my mouth.

He stops me all of a sudden and limps into the furnace room. Right beside the fucking hot water tank. I kneel down again on the carpet layer of dust and suck him some more.

“Bite my nipples,” he orders, just like last time. I comply while he jerks it. “Use ALL YOUR TEETH. BITE THEM.” He’s loving it.

He stares at me, contemplating something. “I want your cock in my mouth,” he says. He commands. Fuck yeah. 13 day load here. I get up and stick it in and he’s sucking me like a bitch. I grab his head and fuck him. “Fuck yeah, suck my cock. You like that.”

Too soon its over. “That’s all you get.” He pushes me back down to his cock, now raging hard, and suddenly it’s hitting the back of my throat. He seems to really like that, but I’m gagging. He persists and forces more into me. I’m not deep throating, but it fits. I grab his ass for leverage. My nose is pressed against his crotch and I try my best to breath and not retch while he fucks me.

Then I’m back to moving in and out. I play with his balls. Fuck, I love touching them.

“I wanna taste it,” he orders, and makes me kiss him. I close my eyes. ICK I’VE NEVER KISSED A GUY. His tongue presses through and I’m OK with it. This is just weird. So wrong.

“We’re not gonna have time, so I’m gonna help you out,” he says. He starts jerking. “Tell me how much you want my cum. TELL ME.” I look up into his eyes and tell him.

I open up to receive my reward. When he’s done I suck it all out and as he softens, I’m able to get my tongue right in around his foreskin for a good long lick.

I put my shoes on and go.

I use the front door.

After His Midterm


Straight, neatly cropped black hair, asian, and very young looking. I swear so many asian guys never age. That’s why I love ‘em. I was sure this 20yo wouldn’t reply to my messages. Went from “What’s up”, a few back and forth, to “I recently discovered I’d like to give blowjobs.” That seemed to end the conversation. Yeah, those young guys are hard to get.

Like a week later, he comes back with “Hmmm, that could be good. Pics?” He follows up with his own. “Mmmmm” I write back. We work out that we’d like to do something in the restroom I found sometime, maybe Wednesday. Then nothing. Man this guy was a tease. Hot, though.

Next Monday he writes back again. “Sorry, classes are crazy.” I tell him I’m going to have to Google Calendar him like an appointment. Crazy, he agrees. Next week’s exam week. “It’ll help you relax,” I told him. Then he doesn’t sign in again.

Until Sunday. “Still up for 2 tmrw?” “Yeah” I write back.

It’s a scorcher today. At 2, I go to the fountain in the nature building. The butterfly feeling is ripe. I want to run, not show up. Maybe he won’t show. But there’s already two asian guys sitting there, one’s pretty hot  in his sweat pants and playing on his iPhone.. I’m not sure it’s him.  So I read some of the posters. Still nothing on grindr.

Minutes later he strides in like he owns the place. Only he’s like 6ft tall. I look at him and he smiles back. That’s the one. “Just had an exam,” he said. “Didn’t go well.” Ahh, well, let’s see what we can do about that. I lead him downstairs and we go into the restroom together, locking the door.

Learning from my previous encounter I can’t let my cursed nervousness show. I rip off my shirt (Le Chateau Striped Cotten Slub, $29.95) with one arm and toss it, then turned to him. He’s got his shirt off.

Wow. Very tall. Thin, in a shapely way. Hairless except thick, straight black tufts jut from under his arms. Small pecs. Gazing, intensely, grinning nervously.

I’m reaching for his baggy jeans. Gotta be aggressive.  But the kid’s pockets are filled with calculators and geometry sets and two phones. WTF, I was gonna need some help. He unloads his gadgets onto the sink while I stare at the top of his black boxers.

Finally he slides down his pants and out pops a thick brown uncut dick. I get down and pull it back, briefly inspecting it. Got to be safe, you know. Then I start to lick his balls and his cock soon slides into my mouth. He’s soft and I work it, loving the feeling of it becoming hard and slowly growing toward my throat.

I look up at his hot body and rub my hands over his tummy. He’s like the teens straight outta the gaysian porn vids.

After a few minutes he sits down on the toilet cover and I go to town on his dick. He’s having some trouble staying hard, so I let him work it while I lick his balls. It’s a hot day. I can taste his sweat and I love it. I let my tongue go down to his perineum and draw letters there like it was a pussy. He moans, “that’s good”. He’s hard, but when I suck he starts to go soft again. I try my hands, but they’re cold from resting on the floor.

Thunk. Someone tries to open the door again. Shit, that can’t be helping.

Eventually he stands up, asks me what else can we do? I dunno, it’s a cold bathroom floor. “I want to taste your cum,” I whisper. So he stands up and jerks. He seems soft, but surprises me with a great tasting load.

As he gets dressed and assembles his office supplies back into his pants, he apologizes, saying he’s pretty tired. That’s OK. I loved doing it.

There and Back Again, In Toronto

So I’m walking around Toronto doing some shopping today. Shopping for cock. I park at the Hyatt Regency and sit in the Starbucks, turn on my favourite app.

Wow. Within about 30 seconds I get five messages. None look appealing though. I’m spoiled living in University town with its abundant youth. I put the phone away and stroll to the eaton’s center for some new shirts. I pick up a couple Raw-Edge V-Neck Tees (2/$39, Guess).

But the exciting part comes a little farther… Spa Excess and Steamworks, the two most well known bathhouses are here. I walk past the thick door of spa excess. Two guys are within 20m of me, they must be inside. I’m too chicken to go in. Same with Steamworks. Instead, I eat at Subway, staring out into Church street, and Grindr.

“How dangerous is Steamworks?” I ask.

“All these dirty places!” someone replies, and blocks me.

A grey-bearded guy is more helpful. “All I’m saying is that some guys don’t disclose their status,” he says, and invites me up to his apartment down the street where I can blow him. I decline, saying I’ve gotta eat lunch first.

I’d be disappointed if I left TO without going in. I resolve to do it with a compromise: I just won’t touch anybody. I slink back to Spa Excess and wrench open the doors, expecting to see an orgy. Instead there’s some stairs going up. I carefully ascend them, silently, ducking back so the cashier or whatever wouldn’t notice me if I turned around and fled.

There’s a window in the wall beside the door. “What do I have to do?” I squeak at the cashier. I pay $6 and leave my grad student card with him, and he lets me in. Staring at the floor, I stride to the stairwell and go down, then up, looking for the locker room. It was a quite a locker room, a beautiful site to behold with coloured light emanating from somewhere in the darkness. I change quickly and slam the door shut, hanging my key on my wrist.

Down a flight is the jacuzzi tub. Well, I have to go in. I’m here. So I shower, staring straight at the wall and sit down with two other old guys. I watch some vintage porn on the flat screen for a while, until I’m relaxed, then I get up to explore some more.

It’s easy to not touch anyone here. At 1pm on Saturday there’s only like 10 guys here. I find the maze and wander around it, moving quickly past anyone as they reach for me. The maze snakes around a bathroom, and includes a viewing couch looking straight through one-way glass toward a trough urinal. That would be hot, if anyone was there. I’m a fan of watersports.

I decide to end my trip at the bar. I grab a $9 long island iced tea, and sit on the couch near the TV. It’s playing classic movies. Behind me a toweled asian guy sits at a table using his laptop. I read on my phone, sipping the alcohol, and I feel totally relaxed. This is not a bad place to visit.

Later on I make my way through Toronto back to my parking space. On Grindr, the streets are an ever changing sea. There are so many choices. But no bites. I make it all the way back to the hotel and sit in the lobby. It’s too early to go home.

I see a guy on Grindr. We exchange pics.

He’s asian, he looks OK and will let me blow him. He can host right now in his hotel room at the Marriot around the block. “10 mins” I tell him.

When I get to his door my heart is pounding. WTF am I doing. I should turn back. Instead I rap on his door.

He’s in his underwear already, watching TV. We introduce ourselves and he offers me some water. “You’re so formal,” he says, smiling incredulously.

“Do you do this often?” I ask. Not too often, he says. I tell him he’s my #5. “Five today?” I shook my head. “Five in your life?!” Yup. So tell me if I’m doing something wrong.

We go to the bedroom and strip, laying on the bed. Cuddling’s still weird for me, I tell him, and reach for his crotch. He obliges, discarding his black briefs. A beautiful, cut cock, a drop of precum already at its tip. I lick it up and make him sit on the edge of the bed. His penis fits comfortably in my mouth. I’m relaxed, and go for a while. He can’t believe how into it I am. I’m like a starving man on sausage. Eventually he ends up standing against the wall, thrusting into my face when I feel several squirts of salty cum land on my tongue. I show it to him before swallowing it down.

“You’re very good at this,” he tells me, stroking my hair. He’s never cum from just a blowjob before.

Later he messages. If I’m ever in TO again, let him know. Yay, a job well done.

10 Days

It’s 9am and I’m coming up on a ten day load here. I need relief. NOW.

But not just anybody. I need a swallower, someone who’d appreciate what I had to give as much as I would. For the past few days I’d carefully polled people who might be 1) available during the day  2) STD free and 3) swallowers.

I found a guy who had just dropped his daughter off at school. He’s up for some mutual oral fun. But I’m not sure if he’s a swallower. Prob not. But desparate times… While I arrange things with him I message a confirmed swallower from a couple of days ago. Yeah, he’s free right now. I make up some excuse for the other one and drive over to the apartment.

It’s a pretty swanky place I’m at. I get out of the elevator and the door’s right in front of me. Butterflies in my stomach. I message him and right away the door opens.

This guy’s a little big, but I don’t care. It’s his mouth I need, and he seems experienced. His apartment is spotless, leather couches, white carpets.

“Sorry about the mess,” He apologizes, “Just got out of the shower. Where would you like to do this?”

“The bedroom?” We go up a flight of stairs. That’s right, a fucking flight of stairs INSIDE the apartment.

We get inside and I just stand there like an idiot. He unbuttons my pants for me. I shed my briefs and collapse on his manly gray puffy comforter, legs hanging over the edge of the bed. God I could sleep here right now. I tell him to go easy, it’s been 10 days.

He is good. He effortlessly slings my legs over his shoulders and I gasp as he mouths my 7″ dick. He uses his tongue all over the thing. I can close my eyes and feel just like a dripping wet pussy is fucking me.

He stops and licks my asshole. OMG he’s licking my ass. I don’t care, I just showered too. It feels great.

But my dick demands attention and I tell him, he dutifully gets back to work. I’m shaking now.  He makes it last a long time. “When you want to cum, just cum,” he tells me.

I lightly grab his head, (am I allowed to do this?) and start to hump his face from below. “Oh my god, that’s good,” I moan.

The pressure builds. I let him do the work and just enjoy it. Suddenly I’m not breathing. Next minute I’m screaming like a filthy bitch as I pump him full of  ten fucking days worth of man syrup.

He licks his lips and I lay there. I can’t move. He tells me I can rest there on his bed as long as I want. I’m breathless. He gets on the bed, still clothed,  and hugs me from behind. I like it.

Eventually I’m able to talk again. He’s chatty too, he tells me he’s in an open marriage. He’s new in town, but moved here for his husband’s work, since he can work from anywhere. Total context switch. We’re in the same field. We move to his office and we show off each others web sites and exchange business tips while I think about how I just fed him lunch with my sperm.

We connect on LinkedIn.