We did the shower thing, and I did some other domestic stuff like cleaning and laundry. Lisa was gone to work, and Kyle was still dozy after sleeping 10 hours. Finally Brian arrived, and I immediately recoiled. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…
He was wearing a black shirt, pink tie, black pants, white boots, and some sort of manbag.
Now, I have nothing against guys who are into fashion, they usually look a hell of a lot better than the bums that I know (aka my friends), but I wasn’t prepared for such ‘formal’ ware. And admittedly he did look good. So we did the introductions and I shaved and then started getting dressed.
“Wait…Brian, tell me what to wear.”
He looked at me. “No! Just put on whatever you want to put on.”
I begged him a few minutes for advice, since I can haphazardly make myself presentable but wasn’t feeling particularly ‘on’ that day, but he refused. Finally, he caved, came in, and flipped through my closet. He tut-tutted quietly for a moment, gave a few suggestions, told me to shop for smaller sizes, and left me to get dressed.
We ate at the Churchmouse and Firkin, part of a chain of restaurants that has a location in the Village. This was my first gay brunch, so I was excited and more than a little curious. Would there be men with poodles drinking Cosmos and brandishing diamond-encrusted flatware? Brian chose the Firkin because (as I found out later) he was going for the least gay of the gay brunches, so as not to scare Kyle (since he didn’t know that he was gay).
Upon hitting the upstairs door, we immediately knew the plan had failed miserably. There, sitting at tables throughout the restaurant, were men of varying sizes, all dressed in some form or another of leathers.
As it turned out, we had stumbled on the “third Sunday of every month’s fundraising effort in support of PWA”, which led to some mild hilarity from overheard conversations discussing the finer points of leathers, what the ‘young guys’ are into, and how awkward it is to find some pieces in sizes bigger than Large.
Kyle excused himself, and immediately I started teasing Brian about his choice in brunches. He swore he had no idea about the leather thing, and I believe him. And then he went on about how well Kyle was taking it, since the entire scene was indeed quite gay. He laughed when I told him that he’s gay, and said it made a bit more sense.
After brunch, we caught a movie with Lisa. Staring Ryan Phillipe, some creepy guy, and the ever-brilliant Laura Linney, it was a bit of a letdown…not nearly as twisted or haunting as I had hoped. I love a good psychological/investigative thriller, but this didn’t deliver. We went back to Lisa’s, ate dinner, hung out…it was fun to have everyone together.
Then it came time for goodbyes, and Kyle, Brian and I walked back to my place. I’d invited Brian to stay, if he wanted, and he took me up on the offer. After an episode of Sex and the City, Kyle was off to sleep on the couch, and Brian and I slid under the covers.
In the morning, he made some comments about wondering if I’d miss him this week, since he’s out of town, and said things like “I hope you’re still single when I get back…” It felt a little awkward for me, since I don’t even know what we are, and I don’t even know what I want us to be…but I assured him that I would indeed miss him.
Monday came and went, and I felt Kyle’s eyes on me more and more. It was odd…more unusual, really, since I’m not used to receiving looks from guys before. It’s still a little hard for me to know what they all mean…and I didn’t want to overblow stuff since we had many more days to spend together. So on the elevator ride back to my apartment, I popped the question.
“So, you’ve been on the couch for a few days, would you like to sleep in a bed for a change?”
“Uh, probably. Sounds good.”
As we lay there, eyes adjusting to the darkness, there was some unintelligible muttering from both of us. We would turn to look at each other, then look away, then back…finally I tried the diplomatic route.
“Well, I always find that it’s good to do what you want…I mean, as long as there’s no pressure…and it’s what everyone wants…”
About two seconds went by, then I had flipped on top of him, with his tongue down my throat.
It was actually really unsatisfactory sex. After the usual activities, we came to the “are you top/bottom” discussion. I didn’t understand his answer, but when I said I like it either way, he started rubbing my ass. I took that as a sign.
He was really big, though, which was interesting. Second biggest I’ve seen in my short sample of the men of Toronto, but dammit all he didn’t know how to use it. After finally fingering me enough, he slid himself in, and attempted some crouched-humping-thing, with me doggy-style and him practically standing on the bed. After several thrusts, and a few position changes, we called it quits.
Tuesday Lisa again had work, so we spent the day wandering the city, with me showing him some of my favorite haunts. It had been clear from the day before that he wanted to go to a sex shop, and I was more than willing to be along for the ride. So that afternoon, we wandered into the Stag Shop on Church St., which, may I say, is an excellent store. I’d never been in that one before, and the staff and selection was great.
I’m not the most outgoing, super enthusiastic guy, but as it’s coming to sex, I’m not squeamish. I used to be, a little anyway, especially my first time buying anything from a sex store last year (I’ll tell that story one day). So I was quite happy to walk through the store, pick up packages, feel materials, and chat with the staff. Kyle, on the other hand, looked like a fifth-grader who landed himself in the principal’s office.
When we were in a corner, I whispered to him, “if you want me to leave so you can buy something, or to talk to somebody, I can. I want you to feel comfortable, and not miss buying something because you don’t want me around.”
He felt more reassured after that, and headed over to talk to the clerk about toys for beginner bottoms. I perused some more, constantly going back to an item, Doc Johnson’s Prostate Stimulator. It’s a stick-like object, with a vibrator inside, and two prongs. One hooks on the outside, and presses into the balls, while the other slides into your ass, at an angle to perfectly hit your prostate. This would be something I would be interested in.
After Kyle finished talking to the clerk, I asked about my toy, and got some general information. Apparently, according to the guy, he prefers prostrate stimulators that vibrate, as opposed to others that simply stimulate through contact. I could see his point, and after a quick demo to see if it worked, I was buying my first vibrating friend.
With a couple porn magazines in the pile, Kyle and I walked out and back to my place. He was eager to try out his butt plug, and I was very curious about my prostrate stimulator. I cleaned them both in my washroom before heading into the bedroom and grabbing the bottle of lube.
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