- cross-posted to:
- redquill
- cross-posted to:
- redquill
There was a guy who constantly made snide remarks about me in college. It was never direct, but always danced around me being gay.
“It’s so funny when you flap your hands when you talk” or “Your voice sounds…interesting when you’re participating in class.”
This guy was a pure jock from the Midwest, my guess never encountered a gay man in his life. So despite it being uncomfortable, I always shrugged his comments off. They hurt me, but I could tell I was like an alien to him.
–
Fast forward 11 years later, and I’m on Grindr when I see this guy on the app. To be honest, it never crossed my mind that he could be gay but now it all made sense. His remarks were about him processing something subconscious within himself.
We matched. I did it for shits and giggles, but also, out of spite and curiosity.
It was clear to me he had no idea who I was, that he didn’t recognize me after my post-college changes in appearance. I was no longer the scrawny guy in college, but packed on more weight and got some tattoos.
We decided to meet up a day after we matched. He was very flirty on text, and it was going to be interesting what he would be like in-person. Will he recognize me?
He didn’t recognize me at all.
In the bar where we decided to meet, he constantly leaned in and touched my knee. I played along. He was quite attractive, as he clearly maintained his physique as a college after college too. So it wasn’t hard to be attracted to him. But I had other reasons for seducing him and laying it on thick.
As we both drank more, it was clear how the night would end. “Want to go back to your apartment?” I asked.
–
His apartment was dimly lit, the kind of place that felt both intimate and secretive. I followed him through the door, my heart pounding in my chest. He turned to me, a smirk playing on his lips, and I couldn’t help but notice how different he looked from the cocky college jock who used to make my life hell. While he was sharp angles, he also looked more feminine and artsy in his choices.
“You ready for this?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Absolutely.”
He led me to the bedroom As soon as we entered, he pushed me onto the bed, his hands rough and commanding. I gasped, feeling a thrill of excitement at his assertiveness. He climbed onto the bed, straddling me, and leaned down to kiss me. His lips were firm against mine, demanding more than just a simple peck. I responded eagerly, parting my lips to let his tongue invade my mouth.
Our tongues danced together, hot and desperate, as his hands roamed over my body. He ripped open my shirt, buttons flying everywhere, and groaned when he saw the muscles underneath. “Fuck,” he muttered, “you’re built.”
I smirked, enjoying the effect I was having on him. “Like what you see?”