Archive for February, 2013

Grindr tales

How I managed to hook up with randoms before I got grindr is beyond me, really. Over the last three weeks or so I’ve hooked up with three guys from there – one, who I’ve seen twice now, I’ll probably see again, and two who for different reasons, I almost certainly won’t. Granted, this isn’t a lot, but still it’s nice to have the odd bit of fun during the week. Today, since it’s freshest in my memory and really only the only non-“he turned up, we fucked, he left” type story, I’ll tell you all about last night.

On Monday afternoon a guy sent me a message saying he was in town for work, they were putting him up in a hotel and did I fancy joining him. By the time the prerequisite exchange of photos and information had taken place, I’d missed the last bus to the centre and didn’t fancy a three-quarters of an hour long walk in the cold (it was -3 Celsius!). So we agreed on the following night instead and swapped phone numbers to arrange things. On Tuesday night, then, I met him in the city centre to go back to his hotel.

As it turns out he’s in a management training scheme for a certain well-known fruit based technology company and, as one would expect, they treat their staff very well. En-suite in the fanciest hotel on the central square in town? Don’t mind if I do. The guy was cute, too, tall, vaguely Celtic-looking (black hair, very blue eyes) despite not being from anywhere near anywhere Celtic. Actually he’s from the same place as The Boyfriend, weird that. Anyway, I had handily brought along my handy little box of condoms and lube since his supplies were limited and, after sneaking past the restaurant where his colleagues were having dinner, we got to the bedroom and onto the exceptionally comfy king sized bed. He seemed to have this thing about using his tongue more or less all over, which was fun but when you’re as ticklish as I am it can lead to bouts of hysteria quite easily. Then he suited up, so to speak (by which I mean put on a condom), lubed me up and off he went.

We changed position a few times but after a while I got a bit bored and we stopped that – but then he asked me to fuck him instead, which was a chance I jumped at since that’s quite a rare treat these days. We started off with him on his front, flat on the bed since that’s what works best for him starting out (and apparently he hadn’t bottomed since September), before I flipped him round to his back and fucked him with his legs wrapped round my hips. He came first over his own stomach and I came a few seconds after, then collapsed panting onto the bed.

After a quick bath to get all the lube, cum, and whatever other sticky stuff gets all over the place when two males have sex off, we went back to the cloudlike bed (it really was amazing) and during some small talk it transpired he was also training in massage, which I took full advantage of. He remarked – and it’s true, Magenta will tell you – that it sounds more like I’m having sex when I’m getting a massage than when I’m having sex (and I’m fairly vocal anyway!). That led to him stroking my dick through my underwear again which just set us both off, and so I sucked him until he came – didn’t seem to take as long the second time round, come to think of it, strange – and then finished myself off as he was recovering.

By this point there was no point in me trying to catch a bus back to mine because there are none by that time of night, so I got to stay over in the fancy bed. He went to spoon me at one point but I pushed him away – “no cuddles” to which he shrugged and said that was fair – and went to sleep. He had to get up early (well, I say early, eight in the morning) so I got up at the same time and left, slipping past the receptionists on my way out so as to save him any embarrassment with the expenses, and caught the bus home to get ready for uni. My bus drove past a coursemate on the way who spotted me and waved, which would have maybe been embarrassing under normal circumstances but given that he only just borrowed my copy of the Ethical Slut last week I sent him a text to tell him I was doing the walk of shame. “I think you mean the bus journey of triumph. Sex positive!” was his fantastic response, so I feel like I’ve educated someone a little. Also, there might be something to be said for getting up early like that, I’ve had an incredibly productive day!

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Boyfriended, Open Relationship (Terms and conditions apply)

Adorable Bastard has had his title upgraded now to The Boyfriend. Yep, you heard it here first (unless we’re friends on Facebook), Dexxx is no longer single. Weird, n’est-ce pas? So how did this come about? It was me who was unsure as to where I stood after our last conversation and things still felt a bit up in the air, so I asked him outright – “What do I call you when I’m talking about you to other people? This Guy I’m Seeing seems a bit long winded…” and we settled on boyfriend.

You should all know me well enough by now though to know that this isn’t your conventional couple-type relationship. Back in the very, very early days of this blog I wrote about non-monogamous relationships and the negotiations surrounding them, from the perspective of someone who’d never actually done any of that. You can read the post here, and actually what’s described in there is more or less exactly what happened both in our initial “what is this?” conversation and in a couple of others since then. It was all amazingly straightforward (because The Boyfriend is a reasonable human being and we both share the belief that being honest about your desires is probably the best way to get them and being up-front about your concerns is likely the best way to avoid problems later on), actually, though just because I’m using the past tense there doesn’t mean that these negotiations are over – everything is always up for open discussion at any time, as it should be.

The agreement, then, is this. Both of us can, guilt-free, hook up and have sex with other people (as long as that person isn’t in a monogamous relationship themself); to this end I still have my grindr profile active but it does now clearly state on there that all I want is NSA, which brings me to point two. While sex with others is okay, dates involving other people are not – no going out for drinks/dinner/coffee with other people, because that – to me, anyway – suggests romance and emotional involvement which is not what we’re going for here. Terms of endearment, cuddles and affection stay between the two of us, anything else is Just Sex. This probably in theory (though isn’t something I’m too worried about in practice as I don’t tend to get a lot of repeat performances anyway) also means not sleeping with the same person more than a few times, because that also is likely to end up having some sort of emotional string attached to it. Weirdly – or maybe this isn’t weird, you tell me – that’s the side of things where I’m more likely to view something as cheating or betrayal; have sex with other people all you want, that doesn’t bother me. But don’t spoon them all night and make them pancakes in the morning, or go for coffee with them and ruffle their hair or call them darling. All in all, it’s an arrangement which I’m very very happy with and he seems to be too, so long may it continue.

(It should also go without saying that we’re vigilant about safety and I have a seemingly endless supply of condoms and about half a litre of lube at the ready whenever it’s called for. This also means telling one another what we’ve done, when and with whom so we can decide what we feel comfortable doing with one another in terms of keeping ourselves safe.)

We’re having a lot of fun in bed and out of it. I’m getting to explore my dominant side a little which until now has been quite dormant, which I’m really enjoying, and means I get to put the collar I bought when I was visiting Magenta to good use. Bite marks, scratches and bruises are all kept below the neck though. We’ve yet to actually tie one another up but I’m looking forward to that happening!

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Home Again

I don’t really consider where I’m living just now to be “home” (KittyMama once told me, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dexxx, but you don’t really have a home”, which is true though some places I’ve spent time in feel a lot more like home than others), but I’m not sure how else to describe my return from visiting Magenta. Firstly though, some back story.

I’ve mentioned in the passing before how much time I waste on Tumblr, it being my social network and procrastination tool of choice. Towards the end of the summer I started following a guy with the initial T who is quite tumblr-famous in his niche, and talking on skype; and a couple of months later, started following his (now ex-)boyfriend, C. Though the former lives not too nearby and we’ve never met, his now ex had not long moved to the city next to this one, and so in December when I was going on a night out in that city, I invited C along. We’ve stayed in touch and hung out a lot since then, and a few weeks ago he split up with T.

I think it’s fair to say – though C, since he reads this, will no doubt correct me if I’m wrong – that even before the break up it was a bit of a foregone conclusion that he and I would end up hooking up at some point. I think I probably realised this over the Christmas holidays when I got a text off him and started smiling stupidly in that way that you smile when you get a text from someone you like (it hadn’t occurred to me at this stage really) and, as he and T were still together at the time, immediately thought oh no. Anyway. My flight back from seeing Magenta last Thursday was to his city (mine doesn’t have an airport) and wasn’t due to arrive until quite late so I’d asked him before I went whether if I missed my last train back, it would be okay to stay at his. He told me that was fine and that since he didn’t have anything on on Friday, why not just plan to stay at his that night and save myself the stress of running for a train I would have in all likelihood missed anyway? Cast-iron logic, there, so I agreed and on Thursday night he met me at the train station and we went back to his.

It must have been around midnight by the time we got there, but I was still too wired from flying to be anywhere near sleepy and probably also jumped up on the excitement of the week away. It might sound weird, but right up until it happened, I really wasn’t sure whether it was going to or not. “Maybe I’ve totally misread this situation,” I thought, “maybe this really is just a platonic thing” but then he kissed me and those thoughts went out the window. We didn’t have sex that night, though. We kissed, we cuddled, we spooned all night, but didn’t have sex. And in the morning, he made me pancakes, earning him the title of Adorable Bastard.

He had been planning to come to my city for an event on the Friday night but it turns out he had the wrong month (yes really), so I ended up staying on Friday night too – we watched the 1989 Batman film, which I’d never seen but actually really enjoyed, and drank wine, and went to his students’ union for a bit

fridaynight
That night while tipsy he asked if I wanted to spend Saturday night there as well, and I tentatively accepted, but the next day checked whether the offer still was valid in the cold and sober light of day. Luckily it was, and we spent most of the morning in bed before going to the city centre to a café that we pretty much always go to whenever I’m in town; had some cake and coffee, I briefly met Tigger who was in town with some other friends; and went back to his for some more fooling around in bed. Until this point in the weekend we’d limited ourselves to hands and faces, but that night we had penetrative sex for the first time. He’s an exclusive top (in terms of who’s putting what into whom, but a switch in terms of dominance/submission which made for some quite interesting dynamics I’d never explored the following weekend, which is another story for another day) and as you probably know by now my experiences of bottiming are mixed at best but luckily he was one of the ones with whom it just worked, straight away. Maybe because I was very relaxed around him already, I dunno. He takes a really long time to cum, but with it being a weekend and having nothing urgent to do, it was nice to take the time and have a longer, more intimate session rather than the usual rushed experience with people from hookup sites or Grindr.

We saw each other this weekend too – again, another story for another blog – and again, it was cute, and lovely. We’ve had a sort of “what is this, what are we” type conversation already and the conclusion was, “no proverbial white picket fence, but when time is free come on round… together when we’re together” and that sleeping with other people is fine, as long as we’re both open about it and know what we need to know to keep ourselves safe (which, though this wasn’t mentioned was at least implied, includes protection from emotional damage as well as from STIs). So there we go, let’s see where this one takes us!

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Visiting Magenta, part 2!

The next day was Saturday, and Magenta and I had a fairly quiet day in the house not doing an awful lot but hanging out in pleasant company. That night was the concert from a band we both really love, Jennifer Rostock (video from the concert, not taken by me, at the bottom of the post!). It was a really enjoyable concert, there was a lot of audience interaction and getting people on the stage and they played for a good while, though I forget quite how long they were on stage for. The keyboardist at one point – appropriately just before they did a mash-up of Lady Gaga’s Born This Way and perennial Eurovision schlager hit Er Gehört zu Mir – proposed to his boyfriend on stage, in front of three and a half thousand people (and to the surprise of even the rest of the band members, one of whom cried). Of course, his boyfriend accepted – you’d have to be a real bastard to say no in front of that many people, I suppose, though by the same token you’d have to be pretty damn certain that your other half was going to say yes before you pulled a stunt like that!

Following on from the concert, we went to another sex party, but oh dear, this one was not good. Really not good. Imagine what someone really reserved might picture when the phrase “sex party” comes up – it really was a bar full largely of creepy old men and women, and we stayed for less than ten minutes. They annoyingly still charged us full price for entry though, the staff were really not very friendly. I don’t recommend this one (though annoyingly I can’t tell you specifically where it was because I can’t remember the street name. The nearest U-Bahn Station to it is Görlitzer Bahnhof, if that’s any help to you).

On the Monday night (I know, who goes out on a Monday?) we went to a karaoke bar. I know what you’re thinking but wait no, it was actually quite cool. There were maybe a dozen or so booths that could fit various numbers of people in them, and each booth had its own karaoke system installed so you could just stay in a booth with your friends all night if you wanted – and six nights of the week, that’s what people do, you book a booth and pay by the hour. On Monday though, they have their what they call “multiSEXualBOXhopping”, so essentially a queer night in a karaoke bar and you could pop in and out of other peoples’ booths as much as you liked and sing along! Such fun!

I love this series.

On Tuesday evening, we visited another sex shop –  a queer, feminist, organic, vegan sex shop. Is there anything more Berlin? It’s called Other Nature and I’d really encourage you to check it out if you’re in the area, the people are very cool and they have a lot of interesting stuff!  Anyway we were there not only to peruse their many organic sex toys and leather free whips, but also because a friend of Magenta’s was holding a bondage for beginners workshop there that night. Now, I’ve never done bondage before, and I didn’t think it was the kind of thing that I was into, but I thought since I had the chance I might as well have a crack at the whip, as it were, since there was a professional there to show me the ropes (I’m so good at puns! Ha). It was a short workshop – only two hours – where she first spoke about different types of ropes and then showed a basic type of tying up that can be used on a variety of body parts and which was surprisingly easy to learn. I’m actually quite keen to get to try some of it out in the bedroom now and see what fun can be had with a tied up person/while tied. Of course, because of the risks and vulnerability involved, I’m not going to do that with someone I don’t know very well or don’t trust intimately (in both senses of the word), so when I will get to try that out is another question. (That said, I do have a person in mind but that’s another story for Friday).

After the workshop, we went for a coffee with the woman who ran it, her boyfriend (or maybe husband, I’m not sure… anyway they’re polyamorous and have been together for years and years and are, I think, a good example of making an open relationship work), and a friend of Magenta’s. As I was chatting with the woman who ran it she commented that she hoped I hadn’t found it too basic having done bondage before. “What? No, I’ve never tried it before, this was my first time”. She raised her eyebrows while taking a drag on her cigarette. “Really?” (Exhalation of smoke) “It looked like you knew what you were doing, your knots looked really good”. So there we go, I’m a natural at tying people up, it would seem.

All good things, as we know, must come to an end, but not without a proper goodbye party; so on Wednesday night Magenta and I, along with her friend from the day before, decided to hit the dancefloor of Schwuz. From the outside it looks just like a big café which turns into a bar at night – but right at the back, down a staircase and small maze of corridors (and I almost mean that literally), you come to the main part of the club which is huge and a bit hard to describe, really – two dancefloors each playing different sorts of music, separated by a large atrium with the cloakroom and, inexplicably, a ping pong table. Maybe because it was midweek and their drinks menu only showed weekend prices, or maybe because the bar staff were badly trained (or maybe I’m just that charming with my broad grin and shoddy German), but I was consistently undercharged for prosecco the whole night which meant I got quite tipsy, quite quickly, though I wasn’t in a particularly bad state and remember almost everything. Schwuz was a really fun night, and the guys! Ufft! It was like the masculine equivalent of the sex party I described in my last post, except with far far more people. Unfortunately, as with House of Shame, a lot of them were on drugs and one, who was there when we arrived and I spotted immediately, ended up in such a bad state that he passed out in a hallway, paramedics were called and he had to be defibrillated. Seriously, quite scary, but the party went on anyway.

And the next day, I left. It was really sad leaving behind Magenta, and the city which I love like home; and coming back to the place I currently live, which I’ll freely admit is probably the place I’ve lived that I like the least since leaving home in 2007. I had a bit of a cry on the plane, but recovered myself in time for landing which is probably just as well because, as it turns out, I had quite a busy weekend ahead of me – again, that’s a story for Friday! I’ll leave you now with two videos from the concert we were at; one of my favourite songs that band sings, and the marriage proposal (it’s worth a watch even if you don’t understand German, just to see how the band reacted; you can more or less tell what’s going on at each point by the way the crowd/band cheer).


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Visiting Magenta Part 1

This is going to be a bumper week for you, since (if I stick to what I’m planning to write) there’ll be three posts; two about my week away, and one about my weekend. Enjoy! 

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, or have trawled the archives extensively, you’ll remember my friend Magenta who lives in the popular European capital of Berlin. (Have I just sacrificed my anonymity?). I hadn’t seen her in an eternity and, with some expected time off uni, I found some reasonably priced flights in November and went to visit her for the last week of January. What a week! 

My flight out was delayed so she picked me up at the airport; we went by hers to drop some stuff off and for me to shower and change, before heading out to a club called House of Shame. You can imagine what kind of stuff goes on at a queer club called House of Shame. There were a lot of drugs going about by the looks of things but I didn’t partake, there was a band and a drag show and the place – which was huge – was really busy and there were a lot of attractive people going about. I like androgyny at the best of times, so when my thought pattern looking at someone goes something like “Oh he’s cute… oh no wait she’s probably not into guys… and that’s their partner anyway I think”, it’s a good sign. 

The next day saw us turning up at the feminist sex shop Sexclusivitäten. It’s a really awesome little shop located in the owner’s house, they have a little bit of everything going on. I wanted to buy myself some wrist restraints and found some I really liked, priced a very reasonable 15€. The salesperson saw me looking and said that they had a collar that matched them, which I’d already seen but which was a prohibitively expensive 65€ – making the set 80€. So I told her I couldn’t afford it and she said she’d see what she could do. I don’t know whether I was just quite charming or they were in a very good mood but in the end I got the wrist restraints and collar together for 50€, quite a bargain! This was followed by a very weird sort of gathering. It was a bit like a book group but instead of discussing a book, the group of maybe twenty or so people watched a lesbian porn film (as in by women for women, not two women having sex in a video marketed to men) together and then had a discussion about how it differed from mainstream porn and what could have been done differently or what could have been improved upon. It was hosted and run by Laura Méritt (unfortunately the article about her is only available in German) who is a really cool person. 

Following on from this Magenta and I, accompanied by a group of four other first timers, headed over to a sex party. It was fairly well attended, 39 people according to the list I saw when we were leaving, which for a place the size it was is enough. The space it was in was really cool; on the floor you go in on was a small bar and lots of deep, comfy sofas, cushions and space to relax. Upstairs from that were two rooms, one much the same and one with mattresses and space for sex; and the basement floor, which was all for sex. Nooks and crannies full of mattresses and cushions with veil-y curtains between them to offer a façade of privacy, the odd box of condoms, lube and rubber gloves dotted around the place. There was a sort of ice breaker game that we were given a slip of paper about on the way in; the theme of the party was supposed to be light (hence, glow sticks on the way in) and you were given the name of an object that related to light. I was originally a glowstick (Knicklicht), worth 2 points; and you had to talk to other people to try to find das Lichtwesen (Hard to translate into English, it’s like an angel or celestial being or entity made of light). If the person you were talking to wasn’t the Lichtwesen, and their points were worth one more or one less than yours, you swapped slips of paper (and therefore also characters) and if their value was the same as yours, you could kiss. It was good for getting people to talk, and because the party was invite only you have to know the right people to go, so there were no creeps or weirdos that I encountered and everyone was really cool (and there were a lot of seriously, crazily hot people there, including some of the staff… one of whom Magenta had a cheeky little kiss with early on in the night). 

Despite it being a sex party, I didn’t actually have sex with anyone (I know, shock horror. I’m as surprised as you are, believe me). Not because I didn’t want to, I think I just didn’t move quickly enough. I did however kiss a few people and also realised that my German is good enough to have all the kinds of conversations you would need to have in a scenario like that, which is quite encouraging. It was a really fun night even without sex, and it’s another reason to go back soon – and now that I know quite how quick off the mark you need to be to get that cute French girl, I’ll be better prepared! 

That’s all I’ll write about in this post, but part two will – fingers crossed – be out on Wednesday and there’ll be another instalment about this weekend, on Friday. Happy reading! 

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