Thursday, 30 April 2009

Hangin' On The Telephone

When I got my first cell phone, little did I know that it would be my passport to man on man sex.

The phone was to be a way for my parents to contact me when I was out at work, but I used it for so much more. Every Saturday I would buy a broadsheet newspaper on my way to work, inside of which was a television and local listings magazine. The magazine had a dating section and adverts for chatline services, both straight and gay. As this was my only outlet for contacting gay men I thought I would give it a try.

It took a few tries before I found one I liked, and I would often call my favourite chatline late at night and jerk off while listening to the voice profiles of the men online. I began to recognise the profiles of some of the regular users, including the profile left by guy I would loose my virginity to.

At the start my profile was pretty basic, so it was rare that I would get a response. Over the months I used the service I picked up on how men would describe themselves and the terminology they used depending on what they were into and what kind of sex they were looking for and I adapted my profile, making it more descriptive, which attracted a lot more attention.

I actually met one guy who responded to my profile. We had coffee in a shopping mall. It was so long ago that I can't remember much of the encounter, though I remember he wasn't the most attractive guy, and the conversation was a bit dull but if he had invited me back to his, I would have gone. It wasn't about the guy, it was just about having sex (which, with enough posts detailing my sexual history, you will see is a recurring theme).

Instead we parted and although we communicated by text a few times we never met again.

I went back on the chatlines, usually at night with me lying naked under the covers masturbating. One night I was on there and as I was going through the list I heard a, by now, familiar profile. The guy seemed to be online every time I was, and I had often jerked off to his description of himself. He sounded very hot, but I thought he was out of my league, so I would not contact him.

However, that night I was feeling brave and I sent him a hello message, to which he replied. We exchanged many messages that night and by the time I ended the call I had his name and his cellphone number, knew a little about him and he about me. I sent a text to him that night, so he had my cell number.

Over the next few weeks we texted back and forth and also had a few phone conversations in which we arranged a time to meet, as I put it, "to see if we liked each other". He agreed and on a cloudy Tuesday morning I found myself traveling on a bus to meet my bisexual football jock.

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

Momentos Of My Other Life

I have two cell phones. One is for day to day activities, the number of which I give out to my family and friends. The one where people from work can reach me. Its the one I use to book taxis, order takeout, and hundreds of other little telephonic chores.

The other is the one I use to hook up with guys.

It's the number I give out to potential hookups. The one that contains my body and cock pics, so I can send them via text to interested guys. The one that contains the cock and body pics guys have to sent me as well as a load of saucy texts telling me what they would like to do to me, or what they want me to do to them.

The contact list is made up of potential hookups and the men I've slept with, well at least those who were more than a one night stand, or the occasional one nighter who I may like to fuck again.

I still have the number of the first guy I slept with, the number of my almost boyfriend fuckbuddy, and the number of the last guy I slept with (who was the guy I fucked bare).

These are the momentos of my other life, my sordid little sex life which I share in this blog.