Failure As A Human Being

I have thoroughly disappointed myself tonight. "Walk of shame" never seemed so fitting as it does now. The only upside was that the streets were empty enough past midnight for me to mutter to myself all the way home.

After about 4 months of not having sex with anyone, I did it tonight. Some guy messages me, lived not far away (although I misjudged the distance by a long short, if I had realised I might have said no), and actually showed a bit of interest in me without it fizzling out. Fancy that.

We'll call the guy M.B., even though I don't think we'll be seeing much more of him. The picture he sent didn't look too bad. There are people who look better than their pictures in real life, and those who look worse. M.B. was the latter. There was some disappointment when he opened the door. I think he was even missing some front teeth, which wasn't highlighted in the one picture he sent. But who's about to put out a picture like that when you're looking to get laid? And I try not to be completely shallow, so I let it slide. Or rather at this point, I don't think I could have backed out. Keep this point about not being able to back out in mind, because that's pretty much the theme of this story.

This definitely wasn't the most sociable of hook ups. We didn't even exchange names until I was walking to his place (he also asked me my username, so I guess I wasn't that special to grab his interest). I had actually not even read his profile before agreeing. Free user account, so I only have a very limited number of profiles I can view before it just asks me to upgrade until the next day when the limit resets; I reached that limit randomly clicking on profiles whose owners I found hot, like you do. My bank balance is currently at minus £90, so I really wasn't up to resubscribing just for this.

The conversation (although with its lack of substance it barely warrants that title) was light on any details about what he had in mind for the night. The only clue was that he has the word 'bottom' in his username. And sure enough, that's what happened. I don't really feel like giving a play-by-play of how things went down, so I will just be skipping ahead.

I had him on his back, knees on chest and my cock by his arse. When he just took the tip of my cock and put it inside him. No condom, no lube, nothing. There had been no discussion about if I wanted to do that, there's nothing in my profile that indicates I'm looking to bareback strangers. It took me a couple of seconds to process what was happening. Maybe he's just going to put the tip in then pull it out, the rest of the time using a condom? Yeah, that didn't happen.

So there I was, inside this man whose very existence was unknown to me not an hour earlier. I know nothing about him, there's the chance he didn't even give me his real name. And I couldn't find the courage inside myself to say stop. This isn't something I'm completely comfortable doing. And in the end, I just went with it. Asked if he had any lube and just carried on. It's kind of like being on a diet, and you slip up. You have that one bit of junk food and think, "oh well, I might as well make the most of this" then start with the desserts and drinks to go with it. I figured if I went this far, I might as well see what all the fuss is about.

And yeah, it's not bad. I would need to do a proper test to compare with a condom to without, but still. Although my foreskin plays up sometimes and not using a condom it was a lot more sore than with one. Made sure to look at myself as I entered him, just to let it sink in. And all I really felt looking down at my dick going bare inside this guy I wasn't even all that into was disappointment. I had made up my mind before. I'd leave barebacking, if I did it, to someone more meaningful than some random bit of strange. And yet there I was. My resolve didn't account for much when it really mattered. I looked at the back of his head, at the bald patch his picture didn't show, and started rearranging my plans for the next day. It's time to move that much-delayed visit to the sexual health clinic forward. Tomorrow morning while the drop in clinic is open. I was curious about PEP before, I guess I'm going to be doing some hands-on experimenting. But I couldn't truly enjoy what I was doing, because I had let myself down. If there are some horrible repercussions from this, I am to blame. And given how it carried on, there's the chance there could be.

I couldn't cum. Too tired to really be fucking anyone, and these meds I take probably don't help. So after lying down for a while, he gets up for a cigarette. Comes back and starts kissing the back of my neck. Then my shoulders. Then his hands are on my arse and he's rubbing his cock against it. Next thing I know he's got more lube and is rubbing it in. I might be many things, but I am not completely oblivious. It's obvious where this is going. In my heart of hearts, I didn't want it. I had already disappointed myself once, but at least it was the less riskier way of doing so. Now this guy--utter stranger, didn't even offer me a cup of tea when I arrived--is about to fuck me. Sans condom, of course. And again, there I was. I didn't want this. I didn't want some stranger coming inside me, or even the risk of it. But all I did was lay there, face down. Not a word of protest. No standing up for myself. Let's just get it over with. I know I'm not going to be able to stop it. It has been well over a year since anyone fucked me, so I honestly can't compare how it felt.

He fucked me for a lot less than I did him. And then he stopped. Got off the bed, left the room, I heard running water as I kept my face embedded in the bedding. If he had come, he wasn't one of those guys who makes a noise. Didn't say anything about it, no "I'm gonna cum" or anything. His thrusting changed just before he stopped. But I didn't feel the kind of things people say they can feel when a guy nuts inside them. No throbbing of his cock, and definitely no ejaculation. When he returned, I took his getting dressed again as meaning he'd had his fill and it was time to leave. While he was gone I was looking at all the papers on his walls. Trying to find something out about the man who'd just done this to me. The man I let myself down for. He wasn't worth it at all.

Not knowing if he did in fact come inside me, I don't know if what I could feel after getting dressed was what it's like having someone's spunk still inside you, or if that was just lube. Either way, I don't care for the sensation. No lustful accounts how hot the feeling of it dripping down your legs is from this guy. It just felt uncomfortable. And acted as a reminder, as if I needed one. I tried checking my underwear, but I can't tell. It would probably be diluted with lube if it was there. I looked at myself in his bathroom mirror before I left, and asked myself what I was playing at. What was I thinking. (On a nicer note, I thought I looked rather handsome if I say so myself. So there's some improvement. Actually, I was pretty comfortable being naked today. Maybe letting myself believe I am handsome if others say so is paying off. Great timing there though, genius.)

The relief to be out of his front door was short-lived. After that, I just felt pathetic. Can I not even managed to live by the rules I set myself? It's not like it's really something hard to follow. I had condoms in my jacket. I was prepared. But I was weak. Too much of a coward to tell this man what he was doing wasn't what I wanted. Too spineless to stand up for myself. During my walk home I went through it all in my head again. And, too little too late, said out loud what I was feeling. What I should have said. How much I'd disappointed myself. I got things ready for tomorrow. Set my alarm for 7:30am so I can be up and at the hospital when the doors open at the clinic. Plan out what I need to tell them. Number of people I've slept with since my last visit (4: C.R., M.N., T.S. kind-of, and now M.B.), what I did with each. What I did tonight. If I can get PEP. If I can speak to someone. I tried to plan out what I was going to say. And started to wonder if I'm just making excuses for my behaviour.

Truth be told, I want the person I speak with to put their arm around me. All through the night, that is what I wanted the most. A bit of affection after a series of missed opportunities. Even if for a brief time, feeling like someone cares enough to show me a bit of affection. The moments I actually enjoyed tonight weren't any of the sex acts. It was just being there with someone's arm around me. At one point, he stroked my hair a bit. That did more for me than fucking him did. Christ. I think I need to go to one of those cuddle parties a lot more than I need to be getting laid.

I need to learn something from this. I try to learn something from every experience, but this one needs some good to come from it. I need to stand up for what I believe in, for the things that I have chosen. I need to do what's right for me, not what's right for someone else or what other people are doing. In very area of life, but especially where there are risks like this.

At least I will probably have something to write about, if I managed to get PEP. A whole month of me talking about the side effects of these pills. Aren't you lucky?