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.