“Bottoming is hard”, I thought to myself. I was in the bathroom getting ‘prepped’ for our date. He was a 27-year-old musician from Bangalore who was in town to meet some friends. I met him a couple of years ago on PR. It was an instant connection, we started talking over the phone and I started liking him a bit more than I wanted to.
My mobile starts to ring and I know it’s him. He tells me to not to be late and reminds me that he’s anal; I fake laughter and hang up. I look at all the trimmed pubic hair in the commode and flush it away. He likes smooth guys, I tell myself.
A couple of hours later we’re in a cozy Italian restaurant and I start feeling the warmth of all the rum I had been drinking. He has dark brown eyes, strong muscular arms and a welcoming smile. He smiles at my lousy memory and laughs at my funny stories. He is flirting constantly and I hope it’s not the whiskey. He tries holding my hand and I glare at him. He tells me about his ex girlfriend and then says that he likes my dimples. I ask him about his plans for the future and he asks me my plans for the night.
We come back to my parents’ apartment in a drunken haze. We make out on the couch and undress in the hallway. He pushes me against the wall and starts to squeeze my butt between kisses. The smooth butt is working its charm, I realize. He rubs his dick between my thighs and we both moan. He grabs my face with his hand and continues to kiss me. His well built, hairy chest is rubbing against my soft body. He pulls back, takes my hand and we both move ourselves into my bedroom.
I would have liked to tell you that the sex was amazing, that he lasted for a long time and by the time we were done we were exhausted but still craved for more. I would have enjoyed telling you that I said God more times that night than I did that entire month. But sadly, this did not happen.
He lasted for a mere 10 minutes and then crashed. I first thought that he’s taking a break, but then I heard him snoring. Frustrated and disgusted I head to the bathroom. “Bottoming is hard”, I tell myself again.
I finish off myself and sleep in my parents’ bedroom. He does not wake me the morning after before taking off. He leaves a note saying that ‘it was nice to meet me and we should do this again’.
“Should we?” I ask myself.
A couple of weeks later, I notice his WhatsApp DP. He’s dressed in a sharp suit and is hugging a pretty woman from behind. I ask him about her. “She’s my fiancée”, he says.
I block him then and there. The answer is a firm no, I realize. No, we should not do this again.
