IN THE ZONE

To be on Grindr means to get acquainted with all sorts of douchebags, weirdoes, sex maniacs, criminals and then a few guys with any semblance of propriety. It is usually a depressing experience especially when you’re on there looking for someone who’s basically a good guy.

Then I met Sucre and it was such a different and mind-blowing experience that I quickly realized that I might not just have found love, but a soul mate as well.

Or so I thought.

Sucre ticked every one of my boxes and then some. We chatted everyday for almost a month and our conversations were simply amazing. He was like a pill I took each day in order to survive facing the world. I very quickly fell for him and it felt so gratifying when he told me he felt the same way about me. But even then, I was mindful of the fact that not only was it on Grindr that we got acquainted, but I hadn’t met him yet. Everything that looks good in the virtual world can come crashing down in reality. So I constantly struggled to hold my feelings in check.

Sucre was a medical student doing his housemanship at a town quite distant from where I lived. And because of his busy schedule, I offered to visit him. From his enthusiastic acquiescence and responses to the arrangement, he seemed even more excited by my visit than I envisaged, and that thrilled me further. Upon getting to his place, I found him even more fascinating in person. It was apparent that he was also happy to see me and he said he had never met anyone like me. By the third day of my visit, we hadn’t had sex. Instead we indulged our romance by having nice dinners, and taking long walks during which we talked a lot about each other, our pasts, family, dreams and aspirations. We were dating and it was happening like a dream.

In the evening of my third day with him, I was in his kitchen trying to get something to eat and he was right there by the door, staring at me with a hunger I quickly recognized. I was starting to feel a sensation of lust lick across my skin when he drew closer to me, grabbed my waist forcefully and told me he wanted to fuck. Before I could process what was about to happen, his lips were on mine and his tongue diving inside my mouth in an assault that I welcomed. Somehow, we made it from the kitchen to the bed, and he went down on me instantly. I was gasping with sheer delight as he deep-throated me, sucking me down to the base of my cock while his fingers roved my body, stoking the passion that sizzled all over my body. He was rock hard by the time I returned the favour, taking such delight in having him in my mouth and having him grind his hips into my face in response to the pleasure I was giving him. And then, he was positioning me on my back and sliding his cock deep inside me. I took every inch of him as he eased it in at first, before picking up speed as we went along. He fucked me good and long, and then we switched places as he mounted my hard-on, taking it for a ride as he stroked himself off, our bodies were slick with sweat and passion. When climax exploded from us, I clung to Sucre, shaking and spasming as wave after wave of crested desire. As we lay next to each other, limbs entangled, breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm, I realized I’d just had one of the best sex of my life.

And for the remaining three days I was at his place, we had sex after amazing sex.

Finally, I had to leave. Back to my abode, we carried on chatting, our friendship strengthening instead of waning in the aftermath of meeting and shagging. His friends became my friends and I met up with a couple of them in my area. It has always been hard for me to discern when I am truly in love with someone, but in Sucre’s case, I was certain I was in love. And so after three months of not seeing him, I decided to visit him again, and a special kind of pleasure rushed through me when I told him of my intent and he said he couldn’t wait to see me again. With this visit though, I planned on asking him out.

I got to his house and met some of his friends in the house. Unlike before, when we had a lot of privacy, this time, there was a constant stream of friends coming and going. But that didn’t deter me. I am not very forward sexually, and so I tried to seduce him into making a move that’d set the stage for my intent to ask him out. I’d wear tight pants around the house with an unbuttoned T-shirt; this usually does the trick when I want to be seductive. I’d bite my lips whenever he looked at me, and I made every contact with him long and suggestive, occasionally putting my hands into my pants and massaging my cock right in front of him. I talked dirty and even played porn whenever I was alone with him.

I did all this, and Sucre’s constant response was to laugh and jokingly tell me to go get laid. He’d say this in that “go get laid by someone not me” tone. It was tiring and confusing. Judging from our chemistry, I wasn’t prepared to fight this hard to get sexual with him again. I began to feel embarrassed by his blithe rebuffs. But then, I thought to myself that this might be him finding me cute, and so, instead of letting my mortification fester, I decided to simply tell him what was on my mind. His friends were always in the way, and so, I dragged him to the kitchen one evening and poured out my soul to him. I told him that I liked him very much, had liked him even before we met face to face three months ago. I told him about the butterflies that filled my belly that first time I saw him, and I told him how I was positive that I was in love with him and how he’d add a lot of meaning to my life by being my boyfriend.

As I spoke, a look of shock slowly graduated over his face, one I didn’t pause to consider because he didn’t interrupt me. He let me finish. And then he responded with words that basically electrocuted me in place.

“Ah! But Bloom, are you blind? We can’t be boyfriends. We are obviously now too well acquainted with each other to be romantically involved. I see you as a very good friend now. Heck! You are like a brother to me. It won’t look nice now for both of us to be together that way.”

I stood there, too aghast to move or say a word. What was he saying? Too well acquainted? Like a brother to him? What was this guy saying?! But we fucked! We fucked plenty times and we fucked real good! Where was the “good friend” and “brother” in that? What about the lovey-dovey chats after that? Where did I miss it?

These thoughts coursed through my mind, wreaking damage to my system the faster they went. Without another word to me, Sucre turned and left me in the kitchen, and I felt like something had died inside me. I couldn’t process it all, at least not in his house. I was fighting back bitter tears as I packed my stuff and against his protestations, left his house to return home. And all through the journey home, my questions tormented me: How did I get so blind and allow myself to get this deep? How did this happen? How had we gotten so cruelly disconnected? Was I wrong to want the things I wanted? Or was he wrong to treat me this way?

Written by Bloom