Case Studies in Modern Life - 9. Over in Sixty Seconds or So

He sat up and pushed himself to the edge of the bed, careful to keep his back turned to the guy. (Had he said his name was Kenny?) God, he felt bad, his mood sinking further down. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole, certainly take him away from this place.

“Was that it!” he heard the guy, Kenny, say. “Hardly seemed worth the effort.”

“Sorry, that’s never happened before,” he replied. It was hard enough to bear without that Kenny pouring sarcasm upon him.

“That’s what all you straights say,” that Kenny said.

“I’m not straight!” he hissed.

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. You’re out for a night of strange, you pick me up and get me back to my place, then you’re all excited at finally fucking another man that you cum in a flash. You cum before you start fucking me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he again hissed. God, he had to get out of here. He quickly stood up and started looking around for his underpants.

“Course it fucking was,” Kenny now spat back at him. “You’d hardly got the condom on and you’d cum. You hadn’t got inside of me and you’d cum. I’m so fucking horny and all you say is sorry. Fucking straights!”

“I said I’m not straight,” he insisted, more to himself as he pulled his jeans on over his underpants, but Kenny wasn’t listening to him.

“I always pick up the fucking straights. What is it with you lot? Why always me?”

As he hurriedly dressed he tried to ignore the whining voice coming from the bed behind him, but every complaining word of Kenny’s stung him. He wasn’t straight, this had never happened before, it was all so humiliating, and Kenny’s complaining dragged his mood down ever further.

Fortunately, he had his clothes back on and his boots tied up in record time. Only when he was finally dressed did he look back at the bed, where Kenny lay in all his naked glory. His eyes were drawn back to Kenny’s cock, where it lay against his thigh, still aroused.

“I’m leaving now,” he told him.

“Yeah, thanks for fucking nothing!”

He didn’t look back as he stomped out of Kenny’s flat and down the short flight of stairs. Once out onto the street he was relieved to find the night air was still mild, and he was comfortable in his leather jacket. Kenny’s flat was only a thirty-minute walk from his own home. He could easily walk it, and it might help clear his mind. Pushing his hands into his jeans’ pockets, he started to walk.

He and Eddie had been so happy together; at least he thought so. They’d been together five years, been living together for three years, and were even talking about getting married. Then it all fell apart. He thought Eddie had just been preoccupied with work. With the economic downturn, his job had been hit hard, and Eddie had been worried about his job and was putting in extra hours. Then that Friday night happened. It had been his turn to be late home from work, and he’d found Eddie waiting for him. Before he could say anything, Eddie’s story tumbled out. Eddie had been seeing Rupert, the friend of a work colleague, for months now. Things had come to a head when Rupert demanded that Eddie choose between them, choose one relationship, so Eddie had chosen Rupert, that afternoon. That night Eddie moved out of their house.

He’d seen none of it coming; he’d had no idea that Eddie was tired of him and was now involved with someone else. He spent the following days wondering where he had gone wrong, how he’d driven Eddie away. Then, five days later, Eddie’s letter arrived at their home. Eddie wanted their house. Eddie wanted to live there with Rupert. He was furious, all his self-pity was replaced with anger.

They were engaged in a six-month battle for that house, six months where he didn’t feel safe in his own home and where all the love he’d had for Eddie turned to bitter hatred. Four days ago it had all finally ended and his house was safe; it was still his home.

Tonight he’d gone out to celebrate it with a group of friends. Eventually they had ended up at Trade nightclub, but just him and Jay. Everyone else had slowly fallen away as they hopped from bar to bar. When that Kenny had approached him, Jay had encouraged him, saying: “Go for it. You deserve it.”

So he’d accepted Kenny’s advances and had gone home with him.

Kenny had been the first person he’d slept with since Eddie left him, the first time he’d tried to have sex in over six months. He hadn’t thought he’d been so aroused, but obviously he was too excited. Barely had he pulled on the condom to fuck Kenny and he’d orgasmed, a fast and not very satisfying orgasm. Like some fumbling teenager, he’d come before he’d even begun to have sex.

With relief he reached his home. As he opened his own front door, he told himself it was all now behind him, but part of him knew that wasn’t true. The shame of that disappointment hadn’t eased; it was still pulling him down. It just felt so pitiful. He wasn’t a breathless teenager fumbling at sex for the first time; he wasn’t speeding on drugs; what was wrong with him?

He felt so stupid and pathetic, he couldn’t even enjoy sex.

He dropped his jacket in the hallway and began to climb the stairs to his bedroom. He was tired but still felt depressed. It was a failure of his very masculinity.