Monday, December 5, 2011

Sexual Cylons

This last weekend was pretty frustrating from a hooking-up standpoint. It was the kind of weekend in which I had a nice wide few hours of sexual availability open for most of Saturday, only to get the flakiest responses known to online mankind.

Case in point: I stepped away for the computer to pee, wash my hands, and grab a snack at one point and came back to find no less than six emails from one sole gentleman on Adam4Adam. At 4:12 he messaged to tell me I was hot. Then I got a message informing me he’d unlocked his private photos, at 4:13; at the same time he added me to his friends list. Then he sent an email asking what I was into. At 4:15 he sent me a guess I’m not your type message, and then at 4:16 he told me he was removing me from his friends list.

I got back, read it all, and noticed that he’d also relocked his photos. Wow, I wrote to him drily. From first interest to rejection in less than four minutes, without me being able to say a damned word. Thanks for that wide-open window of opportunity, there.


I was cruising BBRT yesterday when a guy hit me up. I noticed his location first, which was within about a hundred and twenty miles of me—close enough to meet sometimes, but a little out of the question for a spur-of-the-moment impulse drive. Then I noticed his profile name, which was an unusual first name. In fact, it was the first name of a guy I’d fucked and fisted almost a decade ago.

It was unusual enough a name that I’ve remembered it and the guy ever since. I remember the whole party, actually. It was the first time I met my long-term buddy Chris, who introduced me to the whole online hooking-up thing. Chris used to live in one of Detroit’s skeezier suburbs—one of those neighborhoods in which I was always nervous (more so than in most parts of the city of Detroit itself) to leave my car parked and unattended. He’d converted his basement to a sexual playroom; a sling hung from the rafters, and there was an area to hose down, and several old sofas and chairs covered with blankets that guys could fuck on.

I got invited to a party at Chris’s house by a fellow known as Bowzer. Yes, like the guy from Sha Na Na. (I’m well aware I’m dating myself.) Bowzer was a man of definite sexual appeal. He had a shaved head, a muscular little body, and the look of a rough fuck. In photos he looks a little bit like a porn star. In person, however, he smelled a little bit like soiled diapers and cigarettes. His teeth were rotten. And the first (and only) time I went to his house to bang him, he stopped the proceedings mid-fuck when the bell rang to conduct a drug deal. Naked. Standing in the front door of his home.

I don’t know why I agreed to go with him to Chris’s party, but I was wary enough of Bowzer at least to contact Chris online and make sure I was both expected and welcome. As it turned out, it was the start of a very good relationship between us. I arrived at his place and met the guys who were there for his party that day. There was Chris himself, who was lean and furry and sweet and rather shy. There was Bowzer, who spent the entire party wandering around in a pot-induced haze, muttering to himself and swatting imaginary insects, like one of those homeless guys pushing a shopping cart in a forgotten part of any downtown area. There were a couple from downriver Detroit who were both heavily into leather.

And then there was Neo, the guy with the unusual name. He was from the east coast, visiting down especially for this party. Chris had been fucking and fisting him since his arrival the day before. He and Chris and the couple and Bowser were all present and dressed up in leather when I arrived. I didn’t own any leather, but the downriver couple were more than happen to dress me up, Barbie-style, in a pair of chaps, a harness, a leather vest, and a shiny black cap covered with studs. They even had a pair of size eleven knee-high boots for me to wear.

I looked fucking ridiculous. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Save for Bowzer, whom everyone hated (and whom I never saw again, when I later found out that he’d told them all I was his boyfriend), the rest of us had a great time. Chris was all top as well, and the two of us fucked and fisted the downriver couple in the sling, taking turns on their hot holes. The more aggressively piggy of the guy wanted to prove what a hole he was by greasing up my right foot with Crisco. He then sat right down on it and took it up to the ankle. It was the first and only time I’ve effectively footed a guy. Word of advice: the heel is tricky.

It was with Neo, though, that I really connected. He had eyes that would bore into me as I played with his hole. He kissed like a sloppy maniac, and sucked like his mouth was wider, wetter, and deeper than anything human. For a lot of the party, while Chris was fucking with the couple and Bowzer was wandering around like a lunatic, Neo and I spent having an intense session on the sofa. We’d squeeze and torture each other’s tits, and make out, and then I’d fuck and load him. I remember at one point the guy I’d footed was eating a couple of loads out of Neo’s hole while his boyfriend was rimming my ass and cleaning Neo off my dick with his mouth, while Neo and I made out and held each other. It was a good time.

The kind you think you’d remember, right?

But it wasn’t even memory that was an issue, yesterday. When I saw that this guy who looked like Neo, had the name of Neo, was a fisting bottom like Neo,and came from the same part of the country from which Neo had flown in from had dropped me a note saying that he thought I was hot and he wanted to fuck, I thought it would be okay to remind him that we’d actually connected before and had a good time. We met about ten years ago when you were visiting my buddy Chris in Detroit, I told him. Remember me?
No, he wrote back. I’ve never been to Detroit in my life.

And I was all, But . . . but . . . but . . . !

But no. He wouldn’t be shaken from his story. He’d never been to Detroit. He’d never been to Michigan. He didn’t know anyone named Chris. He didn’t attend a sling party a decade before with a druggie, a couple, a lean top, and a guy who looked comical in leather. None of it.

I mean, he was perfectly polite about it all, and not trying to be rude or anything. But I was a little weirded out.

So I went onto my computer drive and sure enough, quickly found the folder of photos from Valentine’s Day, 2002, the night of the party. Somehow someone had managed to capture Bowzer in action during the three minutes of the night he was actually having sex. There was I, looking pathetic in my costume. And there was Neo, sucking dick and getting fucked in several shots. Same guy. Same face, though ten years younger. Same facial hair. Same build. Same exact armband on his right bicep. Same fucking leather in the then and now photos.

I mean, it’s the same guy. Has to be. And for the life of me I can’t figure out why he’s saying we never fucked.

It’s not a mean thing—it’s not like he said, Ew, you’re nasty, of course we never hooked up. It’s not as if his interests have changed to the less vanilla, or that he’s undergone a religious conversion and it’s more convenient for him to pretend we never connected. Nor is it as if he’d said, You know, 2002 was a fucking long time ago and I can’t remember my tricks that far back. I could’ve understood a simple memory lapse. I can’t remember what day of the week it is, most times.

The whole Nope, I’ve never been to Detroit thing threw me, though. You remember when you’ve been to Detroit. Maybe you don’t want to admit you’ve been there. But you remember it.

The only other explanations with which I’m left are that he’s either a clone or a Cylon. A sexual Cylon who doesn’t yet know that he’s little more than a replication, programmed to seek human cock and fist, better to learn human weaknesses and vulnerability before the final plan that reduces us to a race of sexual slaves.

It sounds a little like a porn movie that ought to be made. Come to think, I wouldn’t mind that kind of planetary dominance at all.


  1. Glad you're taking my Cylon theory seriously. The sooner we find them and stop them, the sooner we can protect our race from ultimate distruction. As well as save the survivors a few years of space travel and stuff.


  2. lol, I love it, A Cylon. Sexy geeks are the best and you are certainly one of too Ace

  3. maybe u could send the cylon/neo guy a link to this post? - along with a link to a private flikr page with those pictures?
    i'm guessing bowser wasn't the only one who was chemmed up - suspect neo mighta been partaking a bit as well - just a different formula maybe? - one that helped turn the event - and possibly entire years' worth of events - into a bit of a blur?
    i didn't see the new battlestar galactica series - was so damaged by the original that in spite of many of my friends telling me how great the new one was i just avoided it - so prefer to think of this neo character as being more like an invasion of the bodysnatchers pod person (showing my age now! lol)

  4. Neo's a real puzzler. You must've ruled out that the denial was his way of saying no thanks. Maybe the chem theory is onto something? It sounds like Bowzer was both a pothead and a meth head, what with his bad teeth, inability to stay put and swatting at "insects". (Users can hallucinate what's called "meth bugs".) Maybe Bowzer's friends were customers too?

  5. Could be an anti-matter thing. This is the anti-matter Neo of the one you meant in 2002 so he wouldn't know what you are talking

  6. Rob,

    Somethig similar happened to me a few years back. OK, MORE than a few.

    All during college I had lusted after this beauty: slim, blond, perpetualy tanned, beautiful white teeth, and funny as hell. There was no question that he was gay and we used to discuss our tricks with one another. I tried mightily to get into his pants, but no luck.

    Fade to years later. I was spending a Saturday evening in a notorious private residence on Sanchez in the Castro area. Nudity was the price of admission, along with $20, and the place had all the slings and dungeon equipment one could hope to use in the course of an evening.

    I wandered into a room where several gentlemen were being fisted. As I was admiring the scenery I happend to glance to my left and there was B***, my friend from college, with a fist shoved up his ass to the elbow. B*** was obviously flying on something other than United at the time, but he and I kissed and engaged in heavy tit play while his nether regions were being explored by a variety of men. This went on for an hour or so. I dearly wanted to fuck that beautiful ass, but I figured that he was so loose from being fisted by this point that it wouldn't be any fun.

    I spent the rest of the evening playing with new-found friends and left to return to my hotel.

    The next morning I was having a drink at the Elephant Walk when B*** walked in. I greeted him and we spent 30 minutes or so discussing old times and old friends. Finally I told him,sotto voce, that I didn't realize he was into fisting. He looked at me with surprise and denied that he had ever been fisted. I smiled back and told him what I had observed and done with him the night before. He steadfastly denied that it had ever happened.

    I chealked it up to drugs, denial, or embarrassment and left it at that.

  7. Rob,
    Love that post my fried. Always nice to read them and i am never bored because i can read them over and over again and always been very satisfied about your sexy post. You always have that way to arouse people even your readers and i like that a lot about you. Thank you for that amazing post man. Keep them comming or cumming, you can choose the one you want.


  8. So.... wehrn do we get to see those pics of you in the leather get up? PLEASE? LOL

  9. You managed to capture sexiness AND geekiness in just the right proportions to turn me on. :)

  10. I would have sent him the picture with a caption So are still sure you haven't been to Detroit?

  11. He can't be a Cylon. There are only 12 models.

    Maybe he has a long-lost identical twin.

    Anyway, I think those flaky people are weird, and with the first one in particular you probably dodged a bullet.

    So say we all.

  12. As someone with a storied past, I have run across former guys some who want me and I don't want them, but I tend not to have amnesia about it. Interesting post.

  13. Ace,

    If only that show had actually been, you know, better.

  14. Zeppp,

    Yep, geek describes me well!

  15. 2:28 Anonymous,

    I was late to the Battlestar Galactica scene—I didn't start watching it until about a year after it was over. I loved the opening miniseries with a passion. Then I watched season after season of the series and was lukewarm about it the entire time. It was just a mess.

    But give it a watch. It's an interesting mess.

    Neo might have been chemmed up, it's true. Or maybe he's chemmed up now, and the memory's gone. It's tough to tell, isn't it?

  16. 4:23 Anonymous,

    The other men at the party were definitely not Bowzer's friends. They'd never met him before, either, and they all refused ever to meet him again.

    I'm such an innocent when it comes to chemical enhancements that I am not sure I would've been able to recognize if any of the other men were on anything, unless they'd do it right there on my lap.

  17. Rahinpa,

    I had an ongoing experience kind of similar to yours as well, that I should write up this next week. It was all about denial, though—flat-out and steadfast denial that had nothing to do with actual memory lapse.

  18. Yves,

    You're always so sweet to me. Thank you.

  19. 7:24 Anonymous,

    I can safely say the answer to your question is NEVER!!

  20. Richard,

    You just want to borrow my Doctor Who DVDs.

  21. Mind of Mine,

    Yeah, I could've done that, but sometimes I worry about crossing the line between baffled onlooker and pushy prick. If he doesn't want to have fucked with me, I guess I'll let him have it.

  22. Jnk,

    I surely hope there are more than 12 of the Sexual Cylons. Or else they should let me pick the models.

  23. !,

    I've been in similar situations as well, when I don't want to remember someone (or don't want to show that I remember them, in public). But you know, in general, I'm pretty friendly to former tricks, even if I don't want to see them again naked. We have a shared history. Why deny that?

  24. I'm sure you looked far from ridiculous in your outfit.....