Sunday, July 17, 2011

Aftermath: My First Time, Part IV

I was just sitting there, on my knees, on his bed, naked.  "What the hell do I do now?"  In my past sexual experiences, after sex usually means sleep, cuddling, small talk, etc.  But I was on my lunch hour, I'd been here for 40 minutes, it took my 25 minutes to get here, and will take at least that to get back.  I had to go!

I was still high, grinning ear to ear.  He was up and cleaning himself.  But how do I thank him for a good time, and run?  I know this was an anonymous hookup.  Getting out of there could be as awkward and frightening as walking in.

I got off the bed and started to get dressed.  He followed suit.  I was hot, it felt a good 10 to 20 degrees warmer in his bedroom than when I walked in, and I was sweaty.  I knew I had 25 minutes, though, in an air-conditioned car to cool off.


I was dressed, and sat down on his bed to put my shoes on.  He sat down next to me and started talking about Friends With Benefits.  Would I do this again?  Hell yeah I would!  I finished putting on my shoes, and started making my way to the door.  He told me when he was free next, and I told him I'd be in touch.

I exited the way I came in, we said our goodbyes, and I walked around his house to my car.  I was somewhat aware that anyone of his neighbors could have witnessed this mid-day rendezvous, but I didn't care.  I got in my car and drove away.

As you can imagine, my mind started racing as I came down off my high.  First thought was, "Holy shit, did that actually just happen?"  Then it was, "YES!  I finally did it!  I finally FUCKING DID IT!", hence my post announcing it to the world.  I had a lot of time to think about what this experience would be like, around 20 years worth.  For a good chunk of that time, I also thought about what this experience might mean to me.  I had imagined all the possible physical and emotional outcomes, and felt prepared for anything.  Whether it was going to be a wash of guilt, or the realization that I really was just gay, or realizing that I had no need to ever do that again.  I knew that there was a chance that the experience would convince me to get a divorce and lead a different life, or that there was a chance I'd get caught and be forced into a different life.

The biggest thing that struck me, as I was driving back to work after my first sexual encounter with a man, was that I didn't feel any different.  I was shocked of course, that I finally overcame my fears, and that "by crossing the line" I was beyond the point of no return.  No matter what happened, I owned this and there was no undoing it.  But I didn't feel any different.

Not that I was gonna go through all these possible emotions in the first few minutes after this experience.  Having written about this over a few days has given me time to be retrospective.  I still don't feel any different.  I feel a lot of things, some to a higher degree than before, some to a lessor.  I now know that I can overcome my fear, or my social awkwardness.  I at least will not regret allowing that little quirk from keeping my from what I want.  I woke up on Friday morning, feeling more like a man, oddly enough.  Yeah, a man who cheated as well, but I knew it wasn't gonna be all good.

I don't want to glaze over the guilt, or the cheating.  When I am ready to deal with that, I mean, when I am ready share that, it will require a post of it's own.  I will just say this.  The guilt didn't start with this experience.  I started down this road a long time ago.

2 comments:

  1. I don't know about all your other readers, but I'm really enjoying your journey. Thanks for sharing those personal thoughts. Some of your words sound as if they tumbled from my own mouth, so I suspect your (our) reaction to all of this must be common. Nonetheless, I appreciate the validation, and hope you feel like you're not in this alone.

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  2. I never felt any quilt about crossing the line. It was something I had wanted to do for a long time. I quess I had rationalized that I should have this experience because its part of who I am.

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