Rebounding: Guy 1

[I'm now about a month behind with posting. What's done is done and my god the influx of mess and regret has turned my head into mush, but bear with me and hopefully in the coming weeks I will have you up to speed. This post is when the pace really started picking up, towards the end of January, and this event aided the setting in motion of one of the most emotionally mind-fucking periods of my sheltered life, which at the time of writing is still somewhat in bits and pieces, I'm just not sure which bits to pick up yet, so the mess continues..]

It was a Saturday and I wanted to get drunk. I heard that Cord had been out the night before, and though it was not a healthy way to approach the break-up, I felt annoyed that he was quicker to be out socialising and having fun while I moped around. A friend of mine was attending a birthday in town and invited me along, which I quickly accepted. It was not a typical night out for me, as I usually stick to the student nights mid-week and also the venue was not the usual pop music hive that I prefer. But hey, I figured no better time to break the mould and branch out.

I quickly realised that a night without pop music was not my cup of tea.. One of my friends was going to leave after having a chat with a girlfriend, so I leant against the wall and waited, playing with my phone like a typical antisocialite.  There was seating near me, filled with drunk students, I glanced over and immediately recognised Sol. When I saw his face, my mind hurtled through several thoughts and memories. The first time I had met him, I was with Cord, but there was history between them prior to my arrival; in first year they had a brief make-out session, and I knew what he looked like through Facebook (obviously). So when he first approached me on a night out with my then-boyfriend and went to put his hand on me, Cord was faster than even me to intervene with one polite hand that guided Sol off me while the other shook his hand in re-introduction (so it wouldn't look like a blatant "get the fuck away from my boyfriend" gesture..). This had happened at least a year before this present night, but the memory flashed back as I stood in this club and realised that things were different now, I was single. Though it wasn't by my choice, it didn't matter – single is single.

Our eyes met for several moments, just long enough for understanding to pass that the interest was not platonic. I looked away back to my phone, waited the obligatory interlude, then returned my gaze to his and... yep, he was still looking at me, in that moment you know it's as good as done.. This was it, I was going to throw myself out and just go with my urges, if I had to find a silver lining it would be that I always felt I hadn't had enough single experiences before Cord, so now would be my time.

Half an hour later we left the club. On the walk back to my flat, amid bouts of alleyway kissing, I felt it necessary to remind him of the morsel of history between us, but more importantly the history between him and Cord. He half groaned but claimed to not be sure who Cord was. I could smell the bullshit before the words even left his mouth, but what did it matter if he wanted to lie about it, he was still going to end up in bed with me. Not my problem, he knows the deal now, I thought to myself. Whether he knew or not, we both agreed not to share what happened to friends, details fine but strictly no names.

His skin felt so different from Cord's.. it was surreal to be running my hands over a new body, guilt free. The worry that I wouldn't be able to get hard because of thoughts of Cord disappeared faster than my inhibition, it's just like riding a bike. As a very straight-acting gay, Sol struck me as a top, but he admitted that when drunk he turns into a "total bottom", complete with a ravenous urge to "eat out", which was a bonus for me. He wanted me to do him, and I obliged, using a condom for the first time in almost 2 years. It still felt good, but of course the extra magic was lost, a necessary sacrifice to make when, ahem, re-entering single life.

After a brief session I pushed myself off him and lay on my back, tired from the drink and the hour, which was fast approaching daylight. He got on top, clearly wanting to relish the encounter more. He positioned himself between my legs, and I watched him carefully as he reached over to the bedside table and picked up.. just the lube. I knew what was happening, but I waited a little longer to be sure. He applied some to himself and then made to lean into me. I stopped him:

"No way."
He looked up, "Hey, I'm clean. I'm a medic, we get tested every few months."
"No way," I repeated, "Put a condom on."
"Ah it doesn't matter," he said, rolling off me. He opted for no sex rather than safe sex.

Yes I was drunk, but that didn't make me stupid or gullible. The way I saw it, if he was so willing to do that with me on a one night stand, there would be others, and more people = more risk.

After the sexual energy petered out, he spooned me and did a lot of caressing. I wondered if this is what one-night stands are supposed to be like..
Morning arrived and we spooned some more in our drowsy hangover moods. He dressed and left..


I knew I was going to want more easy thrills, the distraction and the confidence boost were big selling points. Yes perhaps a one night stand 5 days post break-up from a 20 month relationship was a bit soon, but I didn't want to think of the consequences on my conscience, I just wanted more and I wanted more fast..