QColumn: A Gay In The Life – Here You Cum Again

Here You Cum Again
By Steve Prince
“To us!”
Our glasses kissed as Carrie and I drank, both of us smiling.
Carrie and I tried to have one of our “get togethers” once every couple of months. We needed it. As cheesy at is sounds, we purposefully come together to celebrate one another and encourage each other. It’s nice to have a friend who’s always supporting you and spurring you to do better.
For this bi-monthly meeting, we decided to meet at Obar, a swanky yet slightly pretentious bar and lounge in West Hollywood. Obar had a calm atmosphere and the food was okay, but there was one thing that kept people coming… free drinks.
On Thursday nights, Obar would have an open bar at the top of every hour for five minutes. It often looked like a school of piranhas devouring their catch during that five minutes and, let’s be honest, I often am one of those piranhas clambering for my own free drink.
But tonight was different; Carrie and I had gotten to the restaurant much earlier. The mood of the place was quiet and serene as a live jazz trio hummed in the background.
As the sunlight began fade as if bowing to the evening, Carrie and I laughed and gossiped—and then we laughed some more.
I told Carrie about my slutty night with Louis.
“How do you do it?” Carrie asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked with a smirk.
Carrie held her hands out in front of her as if trying to grasp her words. “Guys… and sex… and,” she paused. “Well, it just amazes how quickly you can get laid.”

She had a point. It’s getting laid’s not hard at all when you’re gay. A part of me feels like I’m perpetuating a stereotype when I say this, but then the other part of me that’s getting laid easily disagrees.
Now granted, the quality of whom I’m getting laid by might not always be up to my usual standards, but sometimes you just gotta get it done.
Carrie laughed incredulously when I repeated this thought to her out loud. “Ahh,” she sighed, “I love my boyfriend, but we’ve been together for so long. Sometimes it would be nice to get fucked by some hot new guy.”
“It does have its perks,” I said. I didn’t finish the thought out loud, but I wanted to add that immediate sex isn’t always the goal. And yes, sometimes it gets old. I decided it was better to let Carrie believe I have some type of crazy, passionate, sex-filled life. I could have corrected her, but I don’t think that’s what she wanted to believe.
On the ride home, I thought about why sex is so much easier for guys. Men just have a directness that women often are taught not to have, I think.
“Oh lube!” I said aloud, veering to the right side of the street to stop at a meter. I forgot—I was out of lube. I got out of my car and crossed the street.
The bell of the adult store tinkled innocently as I sauntered inside. I just wanted to get my lube and leave. I was tired.
I grabbed a bottle of Gun Oil and made my way to the counter.
“Well, hello Steve…” a voice oozed behind me.
I almost felt as if I had been caught. I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it for shit.
I turned slowly. Oh God I thought who is this going to be?
I revolved on the spot to see a man whose height met mine. He had curly brown hair and piercing eyes. His features looked Roman.
It was Louis. Yes, Louis from a week ago. Yes Louis with whom I had had dirty drunken, cherry-flavored sex with in his dirty, frat house apartment.
“Hey stranger,” I said reaching to give him a hug. Why did I say ‘Hey stranger’ I thought. Lame, lame, lame!
Louis looked at me and then looked at the lube in my hand. He raised an eyebrow.
“Just getting supplies,” I offered.
“Need help opening that bottle?” Louis asked tossing his DVD on the checkout counter.
You know, I have to appreciate subtly.
I was pounding him like a flat steak ten minutes later. Louis lived only two blocks away from the video store. I didn’t remember that from last time because… well, I was drunk.
Speaking of, one usually forgets the obstacles drinking often plays in sex; that is until you have sex with that same person and you both are actually coherent.
Louis had one thing going for him—he was a damn good kisser. Jeez, the things that boy could do with his tongue. Not to mention his oral skills. In the style of my friend Troy, I decided to take him to rim town and within three minutes he was begging for a good fucking. I obliged.
Some things were different this time around, but some things did stay the same.
First of all, we used my lube. Thank God! I think I might have been sick again if I had to smell that cherry stuff again.
Also, Louis wasn’t that talkative. During our first fuck, I thought this was because he was drunk, but apparently not.
When guys don’t talk during sex, I get a little weirded out. It makes me get inside my head. If I don’t know how it’s going then how am I going to know if it’s going well? And yes, I’ll totally admit this has to do with my own neurosis to be validated.
Another thing that stayed the same was Louis’ face, or should I say, his cumface. Why? Why does he screw it up like he is about to cry and fart at the same time? Again, as he shot all over my chest, I chose to look at the woven cracks in the ceiling. Oh God, I thought please don’t let there be an earthquake while I’m here. I’ll be totally fucked.
When we finished, we both lay there quietly. I laid my head on Louis’ chest and he stroked my hair.
“How was your day?” I asked. What? Okay I know lame, but I’m just trying to make small talk.
“Fine,” Louis replied.
“What did you do?”
“Stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Oh it’s boring.”
Okay, give me something to work with here, Louis. He didn’t and I ended up leaving in five minutes.
Was is worth it again? Oh yeah, the pros definitely outweigh the cons with Louis. Truthfully, I was just surprised to see him. I just thought we were a one-night stand kind of thing. Will I see him again—on purpose? Probably not.
But hey, if we do happen to run into one another again, maybe the third time will be the charm. If so, let’s hope I remember to bring my own lube.
————————————-
Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
————————————-
Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done