Second Skin: Short Stories About My Sexlife by Caio B.

CAIO BATISTA

S____________________________________ E C O N D S K I N SHORT STORIES ABOUT MY SEXLIFE

MIAMI AD SCHOOL

S E C O N D S K I N _______________________________ SHORT STORIES ABOUT MY SEXLIFE

CAIO BATISTA

S E C O N D S K I N _______________________________ SHORT STORIES ABOUT MY SEXLIFE

MIAMI AD SCHOOL

SECOND SKIN: STORIES ABOUT MY SEXLIFE - 1ST PRINT UNITED STATES/BRAZIL 2016 THIS BOOK WAS DESIGN AS THE FINAL PROJECT FOR IDEAS PRESENTATION CLASS IN MIAMI AD SCHOOL WYNWOOD. IDEA CAIO BATISTA STORY CAIO BATISTA DESIGN CAIO BATISTA MENTOR KIMBERLY GONZALEZ PHOTOGRAPHY ROSSIE SOKO MODEL JOSEPH LEPORE FIRST EDITION JUNE 13TH 2016

WELCOME TO MY SEXLIFE, This book was made as my personal memoirs. They are personal thoughts, situations, digressions, expositions of this person who is writing. Before you go any further, be advise that this is a compilation of my sex adventures with other men. If you, by any means, think that stories evolving homosexual intercourse, fornication, fuck, are not for you, or if you feel offended by any content that is related to that matter, I sincerely invite you to stay and read this book until the very end, because despite de subject, I really think that, from my experience, you might learn something interesting about human behavior other than straightforward gay sex. For those who are certain about their sexual preferences, I congratulate you and encourage you to have this book as afternoon reading together with a coffee end some biscuits. You will also discover how some people think about the subject and in a very interesting environment, the same-sex attraction. I can assure that this book will never “turn you” into something, that’s not my intentions of what so ever. I don’t have that kind of power, I wish I would, but I can’t. And of course for those who are happy with their own sexual beliefs and do not have them hold deep inside themselves, I greet you with this book. Here you can find some mutual situations in which all of us, homosexuals especially, had been through. Some were good, some were awesome, some were painful, some were regretful. But most of them, interesting in his own way. In fact, I think that everybody who ever had sex before, not caring about their sexual preference, should give this book a go. Please, people, I need money. ;) Love You all,

Caio Batista

1 Brazil, 2007 7:38 p.m.

-F

uck, that’s a big dick! – He whispers in admirable surprise.

- The wonders of genetics… – Me being charismatic.

We were inside my car, parked in a highway mall, just the drugstore, on working hours, by the fainting lights from isolated poles. We met on an online chat if I recall correctly, of course, where pretty much every young gay man with a brand new driver’s license and the body overflowing with hormones could go looking for casual sex with some random guy, in the same city, with the same intentions. But this random guy wasn’t young: middle 40’s, wife and kids, devotional, the complete package. Maybe not that handsome, but for a first time, he was just fine, and from him I could learn something relevant…, from a hand job session…, inside my car…, on a parking lot… From what I remember, I was a little bit frightened: middle 20’s, almost freshman, first time meeting with someone that I barely know, but whose innermost desires were revealed to me, in maybe, a couple of minutes in a private chat conversation. If you think about it, his behavior could be considered a leap of faith towards me, within the most higher of mountains; a huge dive into someone’s deepest secrets. Trusting someone that he never met before, to expose his own lustful thoughts and I must say, it takes a lot of guts. Although I’m not here to judge but to analyze, or even better, to observe, well not only observe, but… you know… to fulfill my lustiness as well. I was browsing randomly through gay web chat channels, and listening to my favorite hits on Winamp, the same text for introduction: 20’s; Male; 7,5 inches; looking for cam sex. Straightforward, precise, no bullshit. Some 20’s were showing here and there, but I was searching for more experienced men, because as I said before, I could learn from them. You can see my curiosity there, I confess, I’ve just a couple of weeks “free” from a straight relationship with this wonderful girl Katie, met in high school, asked me out on freshman year, it was quite to me. She said that she gave so many signs, but I was so blind, or stupid, back then, that she was about to give up. Well, I must say I had a busy life back then: midterms; video games; social in-

9 teraction with my friends; Chemistry…, but yeah, my first time was with a highly intelligent and beautiful girl, during a serious 2-years relationship. Back to my web adventures, a couple of minutes or maybe hours later, I’ve come across this guy, married dad; which in gay culture means a whole category of fetish. We spoke a little bit, something that really get me going in someone with whom I’m about to fornicate. He told me about his life, but not too many details, like when you are filling up your personal profile in a social media internet page: age-sex-location; “asl” for the most intimate ones, what do you like in bed, yes or no for kissing, yes or no for ass-play, those kind of guidelines. I confess that I was open for everything but my sexuality, I was not ready for that, but in due time, I would come out, although not now because I got me thinking “I have no reason for such thing”. So I said to my mom that I went back to Uni to meet with a friend and do some research work, nothing too serious in my own conception, and that I would be back for dinner, but also said that could have it without me in case I would running late. Well, I saw near my Uni, like less than a mile, and I was meeting a friend, a recent one who told me his innermost secrets, and also I was going to do some work, or job, a hand job. Anyways, I got there earlier than the scheduled time, well the first date; you have to impress right? Bull! I was frightening: what if is someone close to someone I know, or even worse, my parents know? What if is some crazy mind fucked guy with serious social problems? I had my favorite radio station on so that I could inhale the tunes I was used to hearing and exhaling the fear that was consuming me from the inside. Maybe it was guilty of laying and statement to someone I considered the most. During Rihanna’s Umbrella, he texted me: “I’ve just arrived, blue Chevy, dark windows.” “Dark-blue-Honda.” I replayed. Haven’t yet seen his car until he drops out, no surprises: daddy looks, tall, chubby, shy and a little apprehensive. I made sure that my car’s windows were blurry by the AC and the rain drops from the chilly night outside, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and privacy, inside a parking lot. He turned around the back of the car, opening the passenger’s door like he would meet someone for a talk, inside a car, as usual… He was cute, not too shabby as my present roommate use to say, and true to his online profile description, with slightly gray shades in his hair, which also attracts me, starting with a compliment:

- You’re handsome.

- Thank you. – I wasn’t sure if I would complement him or not, maybe I was a little disrespectful

- So “James” is your real name? – Standing his hand for a friendly handshake.

- Yes, it is. – Lies. – And you’re Simmon.

- Yes, I’m. What do you for a living? – Breaking the ice.

- Oh “I’ve come to meet a friend to do some research on some projects”. – Trying to show confidence above my fears. - You’re funny. – Says he laughing and revealing some braces within his teeth. Interesting fact since I was curious about kissing someone with those like that. – Also fit. – running his heavy left hand over my shirt near my abs. It tickles, can’t help, it gets rigid and I start shivering. – It’s ok. – He noticed. The next minute his hand is cruising over my shorts and getting near my penis. – Looks thick. And it’s already hard.

- Your fault. – I replied, guiding my hand on his body as well.

The next thing, he has his hand on my shorts, grabbing it hard and steady, with a strong grip, supposedly holding a tennis racket and ready for the Ace score. No words were spoken, heavy breathing, hands all over, dropping shorts, feeling comfortable, whispering compliments: “big”, “strong”, “thick”.

- You don’t suck? – I asked.

- I can’t. Because of my braces. – He comments. – And I don’t want any accidents happening…– There were something there, in his words. Don’t know what could it be, but there was definitely something. Hand gestures, lips licking, lightly sweating, quick shivers, pleasure, the heat, more whispers, the worries driving far away, nothing really matters, time stops. Heavy hand movements, intensity, more pleasure, even more whispers, the climax, the silent excitement, cum, sticky.

- You come thick boy. – Says he.

- You too buddy. – Catching my breath.

- We have to do this again another time – Using the paper towel.

- That was good... – Shy as I was, trying to come up with words in the right order for a simple sentence. - I like the cute way you behave, shy yet confident about yourself, knowing what you want and going for it. That was completely unexpected, was I that transparent? Was I that frightened in such a way I could easily be read? In fact, I was. The same feeling of vulnerability when, as a kid, your parents catch you in the act for something that you’re doing and you know is wrong.

- I’m learning. – I said. He giggles.

wife.

- Well, I’m on my way back home. Gotta go to the church and in the meantime make an excuse for my

- Say that you met a friend on your way home and you guys had a chat. – Making me comfortable with the situation. - Not bad. – He laughs. – Ok, it was nice knowing you, let’s keep in touch and play another round sometime.

- Sure, I have your contact. I’ll text you sometime. – He left.

On my way home, I was feeling like the shit, full of myself, nobody could break my confidence. Enter home, took a shower, had dinner and went to bed. A couple of weeks passed. He texted asking to meet as soon as possible for a Round 2. I said yes and said that I would be free by the weekend.

“How about Sunday?” – He said.

“Totally!” – I replayed.

11 With the weekend came Valentine’s Day1, and as single as I was, all I wanted was sex. I waited for him to make contact until I finally asked him if the date was still up. “Well, today is Valentine’s Day, right? Well, I’m not dating my wife but we still love each other. So, you know, I’m going to spend this day with her.” – Said the text message. - Ok. – I said to myself, trying to figure out why I was upset about it. But later on, I realized: he’s not bound to me, not should do I. It was plain simple: no strings attached, just sex, no feelings, just that moment. I think that, from that moment, I started to build up this character that I was: confident, horny, hung, thrilling for some hot casual gay sex, filled with random dicks and guys that I’ve never met before. Was I just about sex right? It should be more than that, just good sex with another person who wants the same. My sex adventures would lead me to some places that I would like to explore and experience, and in the end perhaps, learn something from it.

1 In Brazil, Valentine’s day would be translated as “Sweetheart’s Day” commonly associated to young couples, not the married ones, but those who are dating and love each other. – Author’s notes.

2 Brazil, 2007 9:01 p.m.

-I

have a husband, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he will be here soon. I would love to see you guys together. – I could feel the desire hidden in those words; it was something he planned the whole time.

Another warm Saturday afternoon back in my place.

Laying down on my bed, I could feel the chilly breeze from the sea coming through the balcony and hitting my face as I was there with my head; where supposedly my feet should be, “upside down”, eyes closed, with a boner… I remember it was a break, middle July, a light shower here and there, nothing much to do besides reading a book, comment on your friend’s social media posts, hear some of your favorite bands and browse for porn on the internet. Surfing around webchats, before finally going back to the same old same old “Gay-Real EncountersFortaleza”, I was gifted with a new way of online sex search engine. Apparently, the same administers from the chat rooms had developed something that you can relate as a Social Media for people to get together and have sex. Looks like the deal I was familiar with: find someone attractive by seeing their pictures, leave them a provocative, and somewhat, persuasive message; if liked, replay it, if not, just ignore it. I some point I kept asking myself if I would feel degraded because all of the “offering”. Was I going to fast?; Was I really ok with myself in order to keep this going on?; Was I a slut?. A recall a dearest friend of mine said: “Jesus Kyle, you’re such a crazy whore…”. We still talking nowadays and I must say that before she had a sweet energetic 5-years-old little boy, she had some quite histories that I think she would be proud of, worthy of a book I must say, making her older self at least questioning her point of view about myself back then. So after dropping some private messages on sex profiles over this new social media, I came across this Master Degree older cub. I confess that I have a huge crush of intelligent people, a good chat always get me shivers and excitement, this one was no different.

- I’ll be alone around 8:30 p.m., do you have a car? You can come by. – Sending me an invitation.

13 As usual, I said yes. His address was near the coast, funny thing if you come to think of it because I could felt the scent coming from the sea a little early ago. By the time of the event, I came up with the excuse of going out for a couple of drinks with my friends. Mom said to take care and don’t drive after drinking, “Take some time before each drink, so that your body absorbs the alcohol slowly” she used to say “And have something salty to compensate”. Moms being moms, I could never be more thankful enough, for everything. Driving my car, I was confident that this would be a good one, and I had the time of the trip from my home to the coast to sketch the whole scene on my mind. My car has those tinted windows, where someone from the inside could not be completely seen from outside. This made night drives a little bit hard, but noir and nihilist at the same time. Digress driving at nighttime is something that I miss nowadays. It was like a drug to me, better than drinking or smoking. That’s when I had my best ideas, opinions, assumptions, theories. I felt alone, yet not sad, but thoughtful and tripping. By the time I’ve arrived, it was close to 9, in this a small but cozy condo, just like those in the Historic District in Brooklyn, but with garages for visitors underneath the apartments.

- I’m outside. – I texted him.

- Nice. I’ll open the garage gate. – He replied.

He came down and did it. He was that kind of guy that has tattoos in their arms together with ear reamers, resembling a rock band singer, with a heavy goatee and mutton chops coming down his jaw. It was a different style, I was used to it, but still got my curiosity about how it would be to feel all of that face hair against my cheeks and lips. I didn’t mind since I was there to have it all. With or without facial hair, he had me interested. - Do you like cats? – asking me when we approach the door and opening it. I nod my head positively, haven’t had any problems with pets actually, most of the times I get along with them. I had in my mind that when you shoe fear to them, they smell it and react in defense because they have the feeling that they are being threatened or something… For my surprise, there they were, one, two, six cats, all of them staring at this strange guy that came through the door, inside their kingdom, judging every step and body language that I could express. - They like you. – Said he in approval. – They usually go around people in disapproval. This could be a good sign.

- I like them. They seem to like me. – Trying to be fun.

- Let’s go to my room. – That was quick…

After a hallway, we were at this room; no doors, closed rustic wood windows filled with a thin light coming up from a small glass-made lampshade, at the corner, in front of a tall rustic wardrobe. I could also notice some candles in a nightstand by the other side of the bed. A clean orthopedic mattress, touching the wooden floor, like those you use to fix, or try to fix, your spine while you sleep. It was cozy and somewhat mysterious and shivering. I liked the feeling of dark shady places, uneasy but tranquil at the same time. He dived to the other side of the matters, away from the entrance of the room where I was standing, making a hard noise driven from his body hitting the mattress on the floor. I was cautious on not making any kind of sound when it was my turn, I would like to be there unnoticed.

14 By the moment I hit the pillow, he was already naked, comfortable in his own space. He asked me to do the same and relax. Believe me, I tried. But with that talk of having a husband and the “he didn’t mind” stuff, I was a little uneasy. My dick acted otherwise. He began with his hand walking around gently on my face, scratching my somewhat project of a beard saying “Growing something there hmm…”. Well, a beard is something that every man can relate as a sign of masculinity, power, maturity, and for me, adulthood. I was one of those young men that has flaws in their face hair department, and that bothered me a little. I did the same face touching on him, projecting that I liked beard guys. – They excite me a lot. As well as intelligence. There is nothing more exciting than intelligent men. - Get comfortable. – Says he taking off my shirt and rubbing his beard on my chest. He knew what he was doing, and with an exploding feeling inside my pants, I was excited as fuck. The scent of his hair, the shivers from the beard-rubbing and holding his head with my hands driving him around my body, until he made to my trousers. - Hmm. There something here. - Passing his goateed chin over my boner above my jeans. – Let’s have a look. By the way, he was unzipping me, I could felt more relaxed and into the action, driven by the shady room and the chilling sensation coming from the cold wooden floor. I was in my underwear when he was licking my nipples, making them hard. I recall being oily from all of the lickings. That must be something to him as feet are for some people.

- Fuck it’s sure is big. How much big? – I got that a lot.

- Around 8 inches.

- His head… It’s so beautiful. – That was news to me… - And you have some bushes here. I like that. All natural. – That was something I never thought about, shaving. By the time I was going crazy with the oral sex, the kiss, and the licking, he asked me to go inside him. Asking for a condom, he took one out from the shelf he had near the nightstand and protected me… with his mouth. By that time, I was sure his erogenous area was somewhere around his lips and had to use that to my advantage. Hi was now above my body, having me gently pounding him with my dick. Grabbing his head with my hands and kissing him, while doing it. Using my thumbs to travel around his lips making gentle circles with them. He cried softly, in little whispers of pleasure and joy, I knew what was I doing, just the same he did to me before. Feeling his body pressing against mine, he said something like “Can you handle me? You’re a bit skinny. I don’t wanna break you.”. I was a little uncomfortable, yes. He was a cub, tall, a little hairy and chubby, but this mix was balanced in his anatomy.

- I’m fine. – I said. – Don’t stop.

- I’m only stopping when you cum inside me. – He said.

We’ve intensified the action, never forgetting his lips. The kissing, the massage and all of the licking, he was going places. The places I was when he started the whole thing. He moans a little louder. I came inside him, with shivers, spasms, moans, safely.

- You are something different. – He mentioned.

- Sex is a serious matter to me. – And knowing you from the last minute was a little challenge. – I thought to myself. - You were splendid. It surprises me that such a young boy could be that precise. – Talking about his lips I presume. His husband must have taken a little while to figure out the excitement he felt on his lips, I thought. And I think that he was surprised that a complete stranger was able to decipher his innermost sexual desire in one encounter. - I like to observe. And people usually send messages with their bodies gestures that, sometimes, I can read. – Said I.

- You sure are very good about this. – He praised.

- Thank you. – That’s me being kind. – Where is the shower?

- Oh, it’s the first left door at the hallway as you are going out of the room.

The tiled floor was cold on my bare feet, and the shower was made from a half wall coming from it, also made with tiles. Cold shower, I hate them. Just had a quick cleanup before I go home, and by the time I’ve finished it, one of the cats was there staring at my naked body.

- You have quite an owner buddy. – Said I with a lower voice. The cat just kept staring at me…

Licking his mouth.

- It’s a shame you couldn’t meet my husband. He would love to meet you I’m positive. – Said he.

- Perhaps another time. – Me being kind.

- I’ll give him your contact, so he can talk to you directly.

- Sure, be my guest. – The more the better… And I was willing for a threesome some day.

Grab my clothes and walked my way to the front door, passing by a private office with an opened door. There was a silhouette lit by a computer screen monitor. The chair turned around revealing another man, nodding his head “hello”, serious and silent. That was a little intimidating, I must say, and of course, very uncomfortable.

- So you had arrived… - Said Jerry. – Why didn’t you told me?

- I just focused on finish this thesis. – Said the other man.

- Kyle, this is Robert, my husband. – Presenting me as a typical friend, no sex attached.

- Hello. – Keeping the serious character.

- A pleasure to meet you. – Feeling the pressure of being the lover from a married guy.

- A pleasure indeed, I’m sure of it. – He stated.

After the somewhat awkward event, I drove my way back home, wondering from how long he was there… Working. But the feeling of awkwardness soon left and gave space to the always welcome divagation provided by the back-home nightride. I could feel that I had something, these observation skills, being able to read other people movements. It was something that I was, in some way, proud of.

3 Brazil, 2008 02:26 p.m.

-W

ell, you have to say that you have a friend who is much older than your other friends are, or that you ask me for help in a project, as me being your Professor… I remember it was a Sunday, and I had just finished a paper for Uni about International Monetary System, explaining how different currencies affects around the world have a huge impact in Brazil and how the government could improve the exchange rate to acceptable levels. Deep, I know. That’s where I go… Deep… So, the “find-a-guy-to-fuck” social media was pumping hard. I had some personal messages, “friend” requests and invites to “social” events, just like any other social media parameters, nothing too different, except, maybe, by the fact that these people were there to “mingle” way more intimate than another social media community. Interesting to talk about are the profiles that you find in those sites being the same as the ones back in the chat room: discrete, man, not feminine, build, hairy, just like those old school CVs that people used to send asking for a job interview. Actually, it was quite the same, aside from the fact that some people cannot spell correctly by either laziness or, perhaps, personal issues…: “Bttm lkn 4 sm rl action l8tr. Any1?”. However, the good old chat was like a mixture of a playground with a meat market, everyone looking for something “fun”.

I recall that another tool used in my adventures was the instant messenger. Damn’ good old days….

You could have taglines that would define your entire life in a few words; some were like philosophers and wrote passages that made you reflect on their own mistakes in life, especially in love life. Those passages were always directed to people from past relationships that, for some unknown reason, still in their “friends” list, maybe to cause and impression even if the other person had blocked that guy earlier, avoiding any possible contact, including viewing the passage destined to him. What was important is that “You gave me this wound; broke my heart, but now I’ve moved on, I’m over you and I’m writing this statement so that you could read and feel guilty about yourself.” Anyways, my parents went out to my grandma, and I had stayed home to finish this important paper. At the same time, I left my instant message window open, so I could reply to some messaging, you know, the

17 usual. Then this guy, middle 30’s, intelligent, message me saying that he would free for the afternoon but didn’t have a place. I suggested a motel, but he was not interested in those:

- They’re “filthy” – he said.

So I guess I’ve said the craziest thing I could say to someone that I had just met and was going to have sex with - Well, I’m home alone. If you wanna come by… - Yes, definitely! – Without hesitation. Now I knew he was just waiting for me to say the “magic words” so he could magically appear in front of me and we could bang.

It was 2 in the afternoon, warm with a chilly wind, of a Sunday afternoon.

The doorman calls me and said that “a Greg” was at the front door. Was that his real name…? Can’t tell. We were even because I haven’t told him my real name as well. I mean, I was risking that much in already in inviting him over. “I don’t like motels…” you can say… Man, I was crazy back then. By the kitchen doorbell, I ran to answer it and I recall that the first thing I said to him was that my parents were off to my grandma’s and could be back in any minute. He stopped for a second, but all I wanted was sex. Well, I was 19 to 20, with a lot of hormones going on as a gay single young guy. Now I think this was nuts, really nuts, and I’ll doubt my kids when they were being left alone at home someday, I know I will… I’ve been there once. So we went to my room, quickly passing by the kitchen into the hallway, he kissed me, hard lips, nice beard tickles, quick hand movements, really intense. We were standing, no time to lay down, no time to play, just the real game. Even my computer was left on, haven’t the time to turn it off… Touch my chest, smooth, lick my nipples, tongue all over, he was hard, from his jeans, I could feel, on my legs. Yes, he was shorter. I think I have a thing for shorties, a hot thing. He didn’t hesitate, down to my shorts, kissing my penis from above them, uncontrollably, my room door was open, couldn’t close it, couldn’t move.

It was intense; heavy breathing; down to my shorts, pull them over:

- Fuck, this is beautiful, look at this head. – He amazed…

- Yeah, I got that a few times… - Still insecure about the door open.

Sucking and licking, in and out, deep throat, chokes here and there, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Still touching me, and sucking, not enough, greedy, more sucking, I was about to… I came… A lot. He swallowed… Everything.

Most of the people don’t, they feel disgusted.

- I had to swallow it; it was so good. Damn’, you cum a lot right…? – More surprises. – The guys must always spend some time cleaning. - Well, you did what most haven’t. – With a calm voice, losing my breath a little bit, because that was hot. Very hot.

Now I could introduce here a little discussion about “swallow or spit”, in the fashion way Brazilians

18 talk about it, but it could take a little longer. What I can say is that, as far as I know, some people are ok if it and some people don’t. To tell you the truth, most people don’t. People go like “I don’t swallow, it’s disgusting.”, but what they don’t admit is that when your partner does it, it feels like fucking heaven. It’s like part of the process, part of the intercourse, part of the orgasm.

- It was a pleasure, James. – Rule number one: fake name.

- You’re very much welcome. – Rule number two: stay in your character.

Door closed, he went his way.

I could relax now, nobody but me and my thoughts.

My parents trusted me enough for many years to leave me alone, even when they went out on long vacations. Living alone from some time, time to time was something that I was used to doing. The cooking, the cleaning, the responsibilities, the mistakes. I was responsible for my own life since my 13’s, but the “sex-ventures” just began when I start legally driving, at 18 in Brazil.

“Great powers, great responsibilities”. Or mistakes…

4 Brazil, 2008 10:38 p.m.

-I

t’s small, I know. - Said him a little bit ashamed.

- Don’t worry, it’s cozy. – Being polite and trying to make him comfortable about his own little world.

Raining Saturdays always drove me away from reality. In fact, something on the rain always makes me feel lost in my own thoughts. The sound of raindrops always relaxed me in a way I cannot focus on anything else but my own silence. Just like night driving. Raindrops and a mellow jazz in the background were moments which I always was craving in this chaos of a city. Abide the rain and my lost thoughts, I couldn’t care less about my sexual desires. I remember that in that day, the online profile was doing its job, getting contacts, like any online social media, and the online chat was up and running. With a nickname relate to surfing and the sea, I came across this guy. Private chat open, webcam on, he seemed attractive. Although I cannot rely totally on the image, the content must be interesting, and this guy had something. Setting up a “meeting”, I had a shower and left the house. “Going for a beer” this time, and coming to think of it, I should have had it, or a cigarette. Truth be told, cigarettes are the worst for my sinus. By 21, I hadn’t had a single one and beers just tasted really bad. With the raindrops ceasing by the time I arrived at my next destination, I’ve known where was I because I could send the sea once I get off the car. I couldn’t saw it, though, it was too dark. The road was lifted by the street poles and by the facade of the building in front of me. Very rustic, in concrete, damaged by the sea breeze, full of corrosive salt, losing in saltiness only for the Dead Sea. The condo were those you can find more than one building in one tiny space, and when you go to the balcony, you can see what your neighbor is up to, even if the word “privacy” is written in bold in your rent contract. Going up to the 3rd floor, inside one of those 4-meticulously-placed-people-elevators, and by the end of the hallway, where you could overhear the TV or the telephone ringing, was the door to this surfer guy.

30-something, blonde wavy not too long tied up, smooth, with beach shorts and a tan skin.

No talking but whispers: - You came. – with a tone of surpriseness.

- Yes, I did. Why didn’t I? – I was curious. And looking around a little bit, I could say that he probably don’t have many guests. Objects could be found lying on the floor, such as surf things, boards, surfer board waxes, shorts, and tanks. It didn’t bother me at all, it actually speaks to me that somebody finally was happy with his own life decisions. I wanted to be that kind of person someday in my life.

Still no talking when we came to his room, a surfer board, spreadsheets, no pillows, naked and horny.

- You can leave your clothes where you think it’s fine. Here, have a chair, sit down a little bit and relax. – Silly request, if you asked me, but since I was there, why not tag along. Taking my shirt off, button by button, having the moonlight coming through the window as the only fainted ray of glow in his room, he being naked, reaching for my feet. Taking off my flops and massaging them with his strong and rusty hands. From time to time, he would use his tongue and mouth instead of his hands, revealing himself as a foot fetishist. Is interesting the fact that some people are attracted to someone’s feet, but coming to think of it, it’s just like any other fetish, bondage, S&M, puppy love, and other exotic desires.

- Your feet are nothing like I’ve sent before. – A different kind of compliment, but still kind.

- I just take care of my body as a whole. – “My body is a Temple.”

Besides my feet, my legs were also attractive to him, since he was going up on the licking and sniffing. Unusual, yes, but horny.

Unbuttoning my pants were easy, on purpose, and reaching for my penis was even easier.

On his knees and having his head on mine, the bottom one, the pleasure was good, but I wanted more than the massage, both ones. I wanted to fuck him. I got up, put the chair aside and kissed him, he was just a bit shorter, what’s with me and short guys…, both of us naked now. Loose hair, as we kiss, feeling every inch of our bodies, the beard tickles him a bit as he said. We lay down on the bed and the first thing I feel is… sand.

Like a lot of sand, I felt like having sex by the beach shore.

He stays quiet about this matter and I should leave it like that although I have sand on my hair.

Bouncing around his bed, and the send, I asked for a condom. – On the cabinet. – Pointing fingers.

Opening with my teeth and protecting myself, as he touches himself with his bracelets jerking his balls, making this peculiar sound of small seashells hitting each other. As I was ready with the condom, he turned his chicks around, the bottom ones, and I had him where I wanted. He held the mattress, I was doing it hard, the way I would feel him from inside. Moans, both mine and his, my chest against his backs, a tattoo, Buddhism.

We were sweating now, going inside and outside, so hard, so horny.

- I’m about to cum – Says he.

- Me too.

- Get it out, do it on my face. – Hot.

By letting out, he turns to me, we came. He on his sheets and me on his face. I got his right eye. I know it hurts, just like sand.

I guided him to the shower, we both wet.

Using the towel, he asked me if I liked it. I said I enjoyed it, and that’s was just what I needed and that I’ve never done a surfer before. – Anytime. – He said.

- Don’t you want to come here? – Mentioning his bed when I was putting my clothes on.

- Sorry, I can’t. I gotta be home by 1 am. – Lies. I had enough sand for the night.

- Ok, then let me step you out. – Putting some shorts on.

- Thank you.

- You know I’m leaving town for a small championship, nothing too serious tough. – Very polite and modest in my opinion.

- That’s cool. Where you’re going? – I was curious where he would have his next intercourse.

- Cali.

- Nice, so it must be some challenge no?

- Yeah. – Quitting his modesty.

- Well, good luck friend.

- Thank you. For both the compliment and the night, I needed that.

“You and me both…” I thought. But I just smiled.

By the door closing behind me and getting inside my car, I still could feel the sea breeze or the scent of wet sand. Driving back home, I was thinking about start smoking before situations like this one I just had, after sex or during a moment of anxiety. Just like Hollywood. Some friends said that once you have it for the first couple of times, it’s hard to quit it. Your mind associates the cigarette as an escape valve in moments of anxiety and relaxation, which always made me think twice about start smoking. So I thought, if I want something as a drug to consume me in moments of anxiety and or relaxation, it would be sex. Lighting it up, the first drag, the heat of the smoke going inside and out, the relief, the last drag, the discard. Just like sex. The good ‘o sex.

5 Brazil, 2009 4:45 p.m.

t hurts, like hell. Like burning in flames, fire-ass-crackers.

In my mind, it so happened because he wasn’t able to perform it. A bad dick and a bad ass.

During vacations from college is when everything happens, if you think about it, is when we have the time for things to happen. Good things and bad things. Good things: being a single gay young man. Bad things: being a single gay young man. I could list a good number of things that torture our minds when we’re finding ourselves sexually. Every look, every gesture, every feeling, every move, it all counts down to the point where we end up in bed if we succeeded, and of course, proud is involved. If you ask a gay guy what he likes in bed, a good number of those how I was, were up to hide that they like to be dominated by another guy. It is just like that song: “for a boy to look like a girl is degrading because you think is degrading to a girl. But secretly, you love to know what it is like. To be a girl.” Back in the 90’s this song was all over the radios, although my level of English back then, could not define what were the meaning of those words, still was good to listen to. On this Sunday afternoon, I had received a message from my homosocial media, which was serving its purpose. I was surprised by the number of the guys I could find near my home and kept thinking “what if I know somebody? What if I saw this guy before? What if he’s friends of my parents? (this being the worst scenario ever). Those kind of feelings were going back and forth my mind, more going back than forth because my sexual desires screamed louder.

- Yes yes. I know where it is. – It was close to my home. Something about 8 blocks.

- Alright then. I’ll get ready. – Said him.

Had a quick shower and drove off.

By the chat we had, he was “versatile”, both “top” and “bottom”. It was something new. As I said before, most the guys I had sex with, where only “bottom”, sometimes “top”, but on rare occasions, because you explain your sexual preferences on the social media profile, and that works as a filter, definitely a filter,

23 because you could search guys only with “this” or “that” preferences. Very useful.

“I liked your dick, it’s very hot…”, he said.

Lies.

“I’m a top, but for you, I would bottom.” with that being said I told him that I was versatile as well. –

I had never bottomed in my whole sex life. Part of me was afraid and part of me was curious. More afraid than curious. Questions were polluting my mind like pop-ups in a web browser, but one would prevail above all: “will it hurt?”

I got there earlier than the scheduled time.

A nice small group of condos made of yellow bricks and blocks, arborized, and rustic.

So I knock the door and he answered.

The apartment had a good size, living room, kitchen, and bedroom, clothes were scattered around and among them, one uniform from a known Brazilian fast food chain. So abide I fuck this guy, I could also find him around working at a shopping mall near me. He was older of course; the youngsters were wishing a Disney Prince and their sex partners expecting that we would call them back and probably ask out to dinner. Even if me saying that “it is just sex”, and despite my modesty, I did so well that some people find that there were a need to “call me back”. We went to the living room straight to his bed, undressing during the process, he picked a condom and laid me down, facing his pillow. I felt unprotected, vulnerable, weak. Maybe just like those guys that always say that they don’t bottom. In a way of thinking, I felt just like that, degrading.

Still forcing, pumping hard, pain and a tear.

By the end of it, my ass was on a burning fire. No cum whatsoever, no pleasure at all.

I felt used, abused, even raped. All my fear and pain changed to an anger I never had before.

- It’s my turn now.

Put on the condom, forcing my way in. I’ve fucked him. Hard. Angry.

Back and forth, in a strong motion, firm and horny. I was lost in his moans, so hot. Made me go harder, faster, stronger, in a rhythm that pleasure and pain were either bends together or really close to each other, separated by a tenuous line that was hardly perceived. “I’m gonna “rape” him. The pain went away, so fast as it came. I was ready. Filling him with my anger. Make him bleed and had me cum, with his pain.” – You could tell I was angry about the fact that I had him inside me, so wrong for a first time, so painful. I had the need to finish this with something that could turn the table of the game upon my side.

I came. He too.

- You like it rough don’t you? – I said.

- Yes. Fuck hard and be fucked hard. You destroyed me!

- My pleasure. – With a minor smile on the side of my mouth.

- I’ll text you. – He said in confidence.

“I’ll block you…” I thought.

On my way home, the pain said “hello” once more. And I call I had to avoid using the toilet for a couple of days.

Nobody knew.

No questions asked, no answers needed.

Coming to think of it once more, in order to write this book, I can relate that I felt some guilt about the way I treated him, with all my hatred. But, when I give it a second thought, I keep telling myself that I was the one who was used and should have no pity or whatsoever from this guy.

I recall he was calm, at a first sight, quite by his own.

But you can also tell, that those who are the quietest in life were the most louder in bed.

He was not only louder, but also rough and enjoyed pain. Both feeling and infusing pain.

Like a scorpion’s sting.

…

And I think I liked it.

25 END NOTES

NO! This book is not finished. I still have plenty more stories to tell and reflected impressions about gay men in general. I’ll end this book here and for now because of deadline purposes. (love you Kim <3). Nevertheless, thank you very much for your time in reading this first print of my book and be ready for a second print complete with more chapters, stories, intercourses, comebacks and conclusion. I’ll end this marvelous project with the above quote:

“Life is an adventure. Filled with the wonderful process of learning. If you allow yourself to learn from the choices you made, they were not mere choices, they were meaningful moments of experience, tasteful pleasures and reflections of ourselves about our own ways of thinking.” - Unknown.

Thank you very much,

Caio Batista

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Life is a learning experience.â&#x20AC;? This book was made with the intention to rise some questiful toughts about sex. You will see that this book is also not about sex at all. Give it a try if you feel intrigued, or even curious about one afternoon relationships. Maybe you might learn something or even rise more questions.