Background colors indicate the type of message:
Skype IM | Annotation |
The Brit arrived the night of 19 July 2018. We explored the city, went to the gym, ate out, visited a couple of my favorite bars, and fed the feral cats I cared for. All very "vanilla."
But the intimacy... We had both been so hungry for so long we gorged on the intimacy, especially power exchange and our mutual kinks. We were both competent and comfortable in dominant and serving roles and we covered a lot of territory.
Perhaps our most powerful erotic hypnosis session was the Brit turning me into a gorilla. We had discussed it years before at the NEEHU hypnocon. I had previously given him blanket consent to hypnotize me anywhere, any time, for any purpose without asking or telling me. On Sunday afternoon we were relaxing naked on the sofa. I got up and headed to the kitchen for water. The Brit leapt up, slammed me against the wall and commanded "SLEEP", then he pulled me by my balls down to a gorilla knuckle dragging posture while suggesting... gorilla stuff, I guess, my mind was turning gorilla and I can't remember his words. Turns out my mind knew a lot of American Sign Language but no matter how many times I signed "GORILLA LOVE BEARDMAN" the Brit didn't understand me.
After the Brit turned me human again we sat on my balcony drinking whiskey. I smoked a cigar.
I said to him, "I have fallen in love with you."
He replied, "I have fallen in love with you too."
He described us as "desperate" saying that I'd understand how he meant that. I did. We were both middle-aged, making us ancient in gay terms. Our favorite kink was erotic hypnosis, which is a micro-niche interest. We were both comfortable along the full width of the power exchange spectrum while most people are highly polarized. We're both usually presumed to be straight and most of our friends are straight. There just aren't many available men like us.
The Brit and I talked about what we could do to be together. I told him I was comfortable with either of us relocating to be with the other. He asked me how I could be so willing to take such a huge risk.
I told him I believed we were both men of good conscience and good intentions, and that no matter what happened between us we would treat each other with kindness and fairness.
I had some concerns that I chalked up to the Brit's apprehension.
The Brit told me he was a "top" and he'd want to fuck me, his lover. I really didn't like ass play and I told him so. Because I'd had so many bad experiences with "tops" I asked him a trick question: If I did let him fuck me, would I get to fuck him too?
He cringed and said, "That's probably not going to happen."
The Brit said because I do not get fucked he'd need to connect with other men to fuck every couple of months to temper his sexual desires. I told him I understood, and it was unrealistic for us as kink men to think we could meet all of each other's wants and needs. If I met a huge roided muscle beast who wanted muscle worship I'd want permission to spend time with him. We discussed a non-monogamous relationship being best, but we'd always be each other's primary man, each other's first choice, each other's cornerstone.
The next day the Brit was furious that I expected him to be monogamous while I could run around with any man who appealed to me.
Wait, what?
We discussed sexual health and STI (British, sexually transmitted infections) testing. The Brit admitted he was a hypochondriac and got tested for free through NHS every 3 months or so. I explained that I'd have to pay out of pocket and that frequent testing was unaffordable. I told him we could negotiate how often to test once we started exchanging bodily fluids regularly.
He got furious that I said he demanded I get tested as frequently as he does.
Wait, what?
We also disagreed about "HIV, the virus that causes AIDS." I was sexually active when AIDS was GRID and no one knew what the Hell was causing that illness. I was also working in medical research at that time. I had a decade more life experience than the Brit as a sexually active adult and I had seen 1/3 the gay men my age die while causal theories flew fast and furious. I told the Brit that I wasn't convinced that HIV alone was the cause and there were probably many other factors involved.
Later the Brit would eviscerate me for standing by my belief that by itself HIV ≠ AIDS.
The Brit would occasionally tell me that something I said or did, which I thought was innocuous, was a "red flag" or a "warning sign." I told the Brit that scorekeeping like that was offensive and destuctive.
He said, "I have the right to protect myself!"
Wait, what?
I had never before had anyone point out "red flags" and "warning signs" they saw directly to me at the moment they perceived them. Maybe later, and to a friend over beer, but never right then and there to ME. I had no prior experience to guide me.
At the end of the Brit's visit we agreed I'd fly to the UK for his city's Leather Weekend the beginning of October.
Jack was one of the friendly feral kittens from the colony I took care of. I found him a new home.