Sex, Sweat, and Charming Decor

Thoughts on sex, ego, and my rose gold bamboo sheets.

Whoever said life gets sweeter with age left out the bitter tidbits. When I was younger, I was a hopeless romantic. Now, I think I’m a cautious romantic who’s okay with his evolving slutty side.

On Friday, I hooked up with a guy. If you’ve been following my tautologies, my online persona (in this anonymous form) explores my appetite as a bottom.

Expectations and Freedom

This newsletter, in many ways, is my escape from gender-based expectations. I do have my tastes, but writing about my sexual needs and desires in secret has been a freeing experience.

When I’m having sex, most of my days are spent pleasing bottoms and men who want to explore their bodies.

Discovery

So, about this guy. We’d been messaging on Grindr for months and exchanged nudes a few times. My memory isn’t perfect, but I know visual recall comes naturally to me.

Like clockwork, we’d exchange messages every few weeks, and he’d ask for dick pics — always forgetting our previous conversations.

The chat experience on Grindr is pretty bad. Messages don’t sync well across devices, and some people have a hard time remembering which profiles they’ve messaged already.

On Friday, the stars aligned. We both had free time and wanted sex. I dive deeper into the story in a piece titled pre-weekend ass.

So I invited him over. He texted “parked” less than 15 minutes later.

I walked him into my room and slapped his ass while walking down the hallway. I took my shirt off, hoping he’d take his pants off before I had to.

I walked him down the hallway to my room and slapped his ass. I took my shirt off, hoping he’d take his pants off before I had to.

His pants fell to his ankles as my shirt dropped on my mattress. Looking at him, bent over my pillow, his body was perfectly shaped and ready to be fucked.

Sex, Sweat, and Charming Decor

After all of that manly butt sex, we said goodbye, and I walked him to the door. Then we hugged and kept talking. I kind of wanted him to stay. And it looked like he wanted to stay, too.

I looked at the couch, gestured, and said, “Please, sit.” After fucking him as if I had known him for a lifetime, I was eager to see what kind of thoughts were bumping around in his head.

From the look on his face, I could tell he wanted to get into my head, too. He’d seen my room. Filled with pastel colors and gold. I’m not sure, but I think his mood lightened when he touched my bed. The rose gold bamboo sheets kissed his skin. I’m sure the colors and the decor, mixed with the dick pics I sent him, threw him off.

Between you and I, ego tells me that’s why he sat down. Like me, he was curious.

If my mattress was still on the floor and my room smelled like balls and dirty laundry, he’d probably still be turned on—but probably grossed out after he climaxed.

After I helped him cum, and asked him to sit with me, we talked about our sex, his bike, my work, and some of his adventures.

I’m not sure when he’ll be back, but he invited me to his home—most of all, I’m glad he came.