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Accidental Tryst

It was almost closing time,
When all the bars in town close up.
Too late for my originally planned exploration.
So I went, on a whim,
To the joint across the street from my hotel.
I stepped up to the bar and ordered a little something.
I was about to walk around
When again on a whim
I spoke to the guy sitting next to where I stood.
We talked about movies
And a little about our lives.
While we were talking,
He'd un-self-consciously reach into his pants
And scratch
Or under his shirt
And rub.
It was kind of sexy.
He had dark dark eyes and short short hair.
That was kind of sexy too.
As we chatted,
And as he rubbed and scratched,
I felt an unusual combination of feelings inside myself:
Not the excitement and fear
That leads to rejection in a blaze of glory.
Nor the shy uncertainty
That leads to holding back and failing to say
What I feel or what I want.
It was a combination of attraction to him,
And feeling comfortable
Both towards him and within myself.
It was a quality of feeling that has come before good friendships.
A state of mind and feeling I constantly crave
But rarely find.
When it comes to sex with strangers,
I'm paranoid.
For the most part I avoid it.
I end up feeling really weird
Before, during and after.
I've never before been on a trip
And taken someone back to my hotel room.
But the bar was closing and we kept talking.
I felt at ease with him.
I wanted to get closer and play with his cute body.
I wanted to prolong this rare feeling of ease and comfort.
Pretending I had no fear of aftershocks from this first time event,
I invited him up.
When he got naked I discovered
He was as cute all over as I'd fantasized.
We fooled around.
His body was fun to play with and he seemed to enjoy it.
The best part was
How hungry for release he would get at my touch.
Several times I got to say, "No, not until you beg."
And he did.
Afterwards, I invited him to stay and sleep.
Then my shoved-aside fears began to seep
Through the wall I'd built to keep them out of mind.
The pleasant and engaging sights,
The fun and satisfying acts,
Were displaced by irrational fear and fantsies.
Might he be infested with itchy creatures?
I'd checked for them but maybe not well enough.
Might he rob me or murder me in my sleep?
Sometimes thoughts spin out of control and become a creshendo of self torment.
I focused on calming sensible thoughts,
But something deep below thought was fueling my discomfort.
My possibly rational fears
Of what a stranger might do while I slept
Kept me from anything more
Than fitful dozes through the night.
A couple times I told him,
"I'm freaking out in slow motion."
I managed to talk and play a little more,
And even sleep a little,
In spite of myself.
Late into the next morning
We woke up
And fooled around one last little bit.
Then I played Rich American Tourist
And took him out for a meal.
We walked together to the park and went our separate ways.
I know where he works.
Maybe I'll look him up later in the week.
Nothing bad actually happened:
Not through the night,
Not into the next day,
Not in any portion of while we were together.
Even so,
I felt dizzy and nauseous through the afternoon
And into the evening.
Whim to curiosity to ease to apprehension.
Chat to touch to sex to fear.
Quite a journey this accidental tryst.

22 July 2002

by Bill Cattey