May 092017

Last Friday I met a guy at a bar and we went to my place.. which was not cleaned or picked up and looks a bit like a tornado hit it. And we had amazing sex.

We met via some bar friends of mine, and he gave me little to no choice of spending time with him at the bar. He quickly whisked me away from the others to play billiards and I didn’t get a whole lot of choice in the matter.

It helped that he was cute and charming.

About an hour later, we were at my place having hot one-night-stand sex. Or so I thought.

He texts me the next day. Then texts again at night, and asks if I want company. I was still tired from the marathon of sex the night before, so I declined what I thought was just a booty call.

He texts me the next day, Sunday.

Then Monday, he texts me that he’s driving past my house and basically invites himself over, but he can’t remember the address. I hadn’t showered or put clothes on because I work from home and none of that is required. So I try to decline.

He persists.

I say I need to shower and I’ll think about it.

He tells me to take my time, but he’s not interested in sex if that’s what I’m worried about.

My bar friend had mentioned that Jose liked me, that he’d heard it through the grapevine… evidently there’s a male version of the grapevine or something. So I decided to give him a chance.

I showered and got ready and arranged to meet Jose at a neutral place.

He was even hotter. I don’t know how that is possible and since I basically just threw clothes on.. I felt way ugly. He didn’t even seem to care. I’m fairly certain I could have shown up in a burlap bag. It’s an odd feeling and I’m not used to hot men being this into me. It’s worrisome.

We started talking, and he realized that we knew absolutely nothing about each other. Duh. I could have told him that.

He wanted my entire life story. Pretty much from start to finish. And he gave me his. I’m sure we left things out (I know I tried to) but it was a good start.

While we were chatting, he stopped our conversation, looked me in the eye, and said, “This is what I wanted. I wanted to talk and get to know you.” There was a clear undercurrent of passion in that statement, and I swooned a little.

Then he told me he is bipolar, and he started explaining it. And it took me a minute, but I also told him about my medical issues – which are very unsexy – and he listened. I could see his wheels churning to find out how to make this thing with us work.

He was explaining the dark side of his bipolar, and I explained that sometimes my disease affects me with anxiety and paranoia. I talked about sometimes I get consumed by a problem in a relationship, and I spiral until it’s resolved. He seemed to get it. Most people don’t.

Then he jokingly poked a dig at my “I don’t watch sports” thing. Over the weekend he’d tested a couple times about watching sports and if I knew when the game would be, etc. To which I replied nicely but curtly, that I don’t watch sports or follow sports.. pretty much I don’t give a shit about sports.

I could tell it was an issue that he was worried about and that it could be a deal breaker.

“Ok, let me explain my aversion to sports. It has to do with my ex. Remember how I just told you about the spiraling and paranoia stuff? Well my ex used that to torture me. He knew he was setting it off, and would persist with it until I lost it, and then make out like I was being crazy. And he’d use sports to do it. He’d turn on football endlessly for days/weeks and I wasn’t allowed to talk to him during it, or interrupt him, or anything. I could walk in the room naked, and still be ignored…”

His eyes got wide. The look on his face.. he understood exactly what I was saying, and he interrupted me.

“Holy shit. That’s emotional abuse! I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Generally when I try to explain it, most guys are like “yeah, football is important” or some other trivializing thing.. but Jose understood completely just how fucking evil it actually was. And it was really really nice for once, to have someone “get it”.

We talked a bit about the evils of mental abuse vs actual physical abuse, and then moved onto lighter topics.

We came back to my place after, and he put on the game in the living room. I had some work stuff I needed to clear up so I went and did that, then came back to check on him.

He was happy just to be here it seemed, and watched the game for a while, and then kissed me. He’d stop and watch the game for a second and then kiss me some more, then watch the game.

“Fuck the game.” He said as he turned to me and kissed me the way one does when the other person is the sole focus of your attention. I really thought he was going to have me right there on the couch, but no.. the couch was all about me and my pleasure.

After a while, we moved to the bedroom. The man has a cock that pornos of made of.

I don’t know where this “relationship” is going, but I’m not about to give up that cock without a fight. Fortunately it’s attached to a hot man with a kind personality.

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