His body was just perfection: tight in all
the right places, soft skin, a beautiful natural smell and a taste anyone would
love to enjoy. I had met him only a couple of hours before, in a bar. We had
chatted for a long while after a group of his friends had left him alone and my
only friend in the world had cancelled on our plans to spend a night together
talking about our past and present and then wondering about our future. But her
work was first in her life and I’ve learned to cope with that.
It had happened before, so I ordered a tall
drink with various liquors and just enjoyed the music and the view: that bar in
particular was well known for being a very attractive spot for young gay men
that wanted to be seen and older gay men that wanted to look at them and
something more. Granted, I’m not old enough to be qualified as “older” and I’m
certainly not what the younger guys are looking for, but we have decided on
that place with my friend to try something different.
One of my favorite pastimes is to watch people
live around me, just walk by, wherever I happen to be: a park, a bar, an office
or the supermarket. I just love imagining how what they are doing fits into
their lives. It doesn’t really matter
whether they are men or women. Even looking at children is pretty funny and
kind of different. That may sound creepy but I guess people are too accustomed
not to care about others, so they decide what I do is wrong in some way, as if
it was a problem to use your eyes and ears.
I saw Brandon (he told me to call him “Bran”),
an hour after I had started to drink and talk to the barman. That meant I had
already drank at least three cocktails and two beers when our eyes locked and
he decided to look at me while he chatted with his friends and even when he stood
up and danced for a while on the dance floor. He’s younger than me but taller
and fitter. He looks like the kind of guys that goes to bars in order to get a
wealthy “daddy” or something like that.
It was pretty surprising to see how, after
most of his friends left, he walked to the sit next to mine and asked for a
very sweet cocktail. I don’t really like those so I kind of smiled and he
noticed it. We just started talking right there, flirting along the way. I
looked every single millimeter of his face and I couldn’t find anything wrong
with it. I assumed he was an actor or a model or something of the sorts. It was
obvious he took care of himself. The clothes he was wearing were expensive, I
had seen similar ones on stores and hadn’t been able to buy them or properly
wear them.
As closing time grew closer, sexual tension
arose. I was kind of drunk by then and I could see he was too. It was probably
because leaner guys are least resistant to alcohol but that’s just my theory,
which I have proven to be true more often than not. Besides, I was really used
to drinking Friday nights, it was almost a recurrent thing for me. Which was
different was the fact that I was drinking in a bar and not sitting in front of
the TV watching some old movie in my underwear, with my cat Michael sleeping on
top of my belly.
Bran,
out of nowhere, put his hand right on top of my penis, over my pants. He
started caressing it, looking at me straight into my eyes, as if he dared me to
push him off or have sex right dare, in front of the crowd. I didn’t move or
looked away. He eventually stopped to go to the bathroom. I paid while he was
away and when he came back I told him we could go to my place and have a better
night than in that bar. He didn’t required convincing at all. He just claimed
his jacket and we walked.
I find it kind of strange, but we spoke about
many things on our way from the bar to my house. It was a fifteen minute walk
but it felt much longer, as we wondered about the people in the bar, the
“daddies” and the “twinks” we had seen there and all the curious characters
coming and leaving during the night. It was as if we thought we weren’t part of
that freak show but we just knew we were and it didn’t bother us. Bran seemed
so grounded for such a young man. He made me feel old but wise.
Once we got to my place, he entered first and
started caressing Michael the minute he saw him. Bran loved my cat and Michael
was the strange kind of cat that loved to be petted by men and not by women.
Maybe that’s because I raised him and he just grew used to me bringing guys to
the apartment or maybe his just a very particular cat. It might even be that I
overthink too much about why my cat does things and how he does them. It
doesn’t really matter. The point is his a guy magnet.
I grabbed two cold beers from the fridge, gave
one to Bran and asked him to join me on the couch. It wasn’t long before he was
at it again, doing the same thing he did in the bar but panting a bit, just
before we started kissing. He eventually sat on my lap, beers on the table, and
we kissed and hugged and caressed each other for a good long time. We ignored
Michael’s meows and the sound of an ambulance passing by. His hair on my
fingers felt great, as his body gently pressed against mine. It was a difficult
offer to resist, so I just didn’t.
I kissed him on the cheek and asked him to go
to the bedroom. Once we were in, I closed the door in order for Michael to stay
away. I didn’t like my pet to witness my sexual feats, no matter how wonderful
they were. And Bran was, by far, the most beautiful man that I had ever brought
home. He was taller but also softer; he was gorgeous but also interesting.
After I closed the door, I grabbed him by the waist and gently unbuttoned his
shirt, revealing a small tattoo on his right shoulder blade.
It was a video game character, looking at me,
inviting me to play with him. That detail made me smile and stop for a second.
He turned around, confused and I explained my pause. He smiled back and we
resumed our kissing. I undressed him and he undressed me and in minutes we were
completely naked, enjoying each other’s bodies on top of my blankets. Again,
his smell was subtle but perfect. The taste of his lips was special, as if he
had never kissed before. It was almost magical.
He went down first and I found myself being
contradicted: his lips sad one thing but other parts of his body told a much
different story. He made me smile, moan
and sighed uncontrollably. He came back up and we kissed and then it was my
turn. As expected, every single part of Bran’s body was made of dreams or stars
because he was just incredible. Even now, days after it happened, I find myself
having a hard time wrapping my head around such a special man.
I made love to him for a long while and he
seemed to enjoy every single second of it. I wanted more kisses and he seemed
to want exactly that. Our understanding on that level was just amazing, so much
so that we seemed to anticipate the other’s movements by seconds, making the
evening a perfect fragment of time for both of us. When we both finished, we
cleaned up a bit and I invited him to sleep as we were, hugging if possible. He
smiled and fell asleep in seconds on my chest.
When I woke up, he was still sleeping. The
morning light made him look even more perfect. I knew something strange was to
blame for such an encounter by I decided not to doubt it and just let it end on
a high note. And it did, hours after, having breakfast together, talking a bit
more.
We didn’t exchange numbers or emails, not even
social media nicknames. He knows where I live and I know the bar he likes. We
might run into each other again but it might not be as special as that night
was. And that’s fine. We made each other happy for a moment and that’s more
than enough.
