First Timer's Club

Sometimes... when it’s a mess, it’s the best.

“I’m at Happy Fun Hideaway, want to meet up for a drink?”

It is late, I feel lazy. Grindr dates don’t ever really work out anyway, right? I suppose it’d be fine for some casual sex, maybe we’d hang out a few more times even. I’m mostly ambivalent toward this boy, but he seems cute and funny, and I haven’t connected with many people in the city yet. He’s a neighbor in Bushwick, and he looks like a ton of fun.

I go with the responsible answer: “I’m tired. Let’s grab a drink tomorrow night.” I guess that could also be perceived as a ghosting answer. But I meant it, and so did he. “I’ve been drinking anyway, tomorrow is fine.” He suggests Bizarre—tomorrow is Wednesday and their weekly circus show will make for a fun date. We haven’t traded pictures, which is an unusual occurrence for my Grindr meetups, but I re-review his Instagram and feel reassured. He’s cute, and there’s something deeply exciting about this date. I think I want him.

Tomorrow rolls around. A slow February day at work, a non-event of a dinner before the date, and I’m off to Bizarre. As is customary before my dates, nerves set in. Outside the bar, I pause: a deep breath keeps me calm. Stepping into the bar is like entering another world: warm, a slightly sexual air in the room, energetic young faces. I arrive 15 minutes before the show starts and spot him sitting against the wall immediately. As I would later learn, early arrivals are neither of our specialties.

“I’m Alex,” he says when I approach the table. We hug to start off, and I’m instantly charmed. He’s cute, my equal in height, with thick curly black hair. He’s stylish in a manner that’s opposite of my style, which I appreciate, and there’s a vague scent of cigarettes on his breath. I would be lying if I said I didn’t like that smell.

Conversation flows naturally. Our unusual backdrop of sword swallowers, drag queens, cabaret acts and aerial silk women feels hazy in retrospect; I barely noticed the acts. We’re entranced with each other, separated only by two pitchers of margaritas—which, believe me, we downed.

Politics, backgrounds, hobbies, it feels like we quickly and, somewhat drunkenly, covered all the bases. I really like this guy.

The show is wrapping up, it’s late now, and neither of us have the slightest intention of ending this night. He offers his place up—he’s just down the street from here. We pay and depart the bar, the cold air feels like no challenge for our boozed bodies. Something about tequila just makes the skin impenetrable.

We get back to his apartment and he throws me onto his bed instantly. The smell of tequila on his breath is heavy as he crawls on top of my body. I’m still fully clothed, but am rock solid despite being this drunk. Alex is handsy, and he finds his way under my shirt and into my pants. Clothes start coming off, Alex and I are both quickly naked. He too, despite also being drunk, is rock hard. I’d be remiss not to mention his cock is massive. Color me impressed.

He feels his way below the bed in this dimly lit room and grabs lube. We’re getting right to this and I couldn’t be happier. He eases his way into me at first, and despite being drunk and a little unsure of the state of my stomach, I’m taking this easily. After all, I am kind of great at taking a dick, so this feels natural.

We’re only minutes in when disaster strikes. He’s sloppy and so am I. He now can’t keep it up, and I unfortunately, in the bigger crime of the two, am a mess down there. And that’s where this story takes a turn. Yep, I’ll admit it, I painted him.

Even through our collective drunken haze, we recognize the situation and act quickly—I still somehow feel horrified despite my inability to really stand up. He sweetly picks me up by the back, and off we go to the shower.

He starts up the shower, as steamy as could be. In I go, he follows. We clean one another off and exchange kisses and feels. He’s quiet, so am I. A quick return to the bed and change of sheets, then we’re both off to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t last long, we wake up simultaneously and immediately make eye contact. He quickly rolls me over—we both want round two. With my back facing him, both on our sides, he slowly inches closer and closer. He’s rock hard again, I’m getting there. He kisses down my back, his hands exploring my chest, sides and cock. He quickly and easily slides inside me again and does one, two, slow thrusts in.

I’m dripping with precum, moaning as he pumps in and out. He’s kissing the back of my neck and tightly gripping me as he thrusts. “Get on your back,” he says. He lifts my legs far until my knees are behind my head, then goes deep inside me. I can feel every inch pumping in and out, he grabs my neck lightly—how did he know choking is my favorite thing?

He more intensely begins thrusting in and out of me, I can’t help but yelp every time he gets to the deepest point. I’m fully submissive at this point, he flips me again, this time onto my stomach, legs spread wide. He’s in full control as he goes harder, faster. We’re both close. He pulls me back to my side, just like at the start, holding me close as he pumps in and out. He’s practically gasping for air as he finishes all the way in me. At the same time, I’m making my second mess of the date on his sheets.

We lay in silence. Eventually, small bits of movement… we roll in bed until later than either of us should. We don’t talk much, just touch. I’m hoping he somehow does not remember our nightcap, but will instead take the morning away with him. I’m sure he feels my demeanor, I can never hide emotions anyway. I shake myself off before leaving, and in an air of confidence I say, “I’ll see you again, soon.” “Yes, soon,” he replies. I close his front door and say goodbye for now.