Lover/Post Coitus

(Now)

This is clearly the strangest thing I've done, to meet someone I've barely fucked, at midnight, in a strage new city. But I guess with age comes a slight amount of wisdom. I feel like an adult, without the responsibilities and the nagging feeling of perpetual tiredness. 

Atleast I'm young.

Atleast I'm not too drunk.

Atleast I have nothing to be scared of... yet. 

Maybe we'll talk all night.

Maybe we'll fuck our brains out.

I don't know yet.

But he's charming, he's charming as fuck.

He's quite possibly my favourite older man so far. 

I don't know though.

Don't count your chickens before they hatch.

(Later) 

He's standing at the corner, smiling. It's always good to see your lover smiling.

"Was it an alright flight?"

"Yes, the usual"

We spend hours caressing each other, kissing. I feel like he's a male version of me. He wants to take it all in. I want to immerse myself in him.

We kiss, we talk, we fuck on loop.

It was everything I imagined it to be. So much more. 

And now I can't get him out of my head. Again.

12am In Bandra

It's only midnight,
but I am tired.
I've had a long day.
As much as I love this city, I don't see myself living here.
I'll always be an outsider, like everyone else.

I like living in the comfort of my bubble back home, soon I shall have a place of my own.
(Or maybe I should blow it all on travel when my charmant garçon finally gets here)
Adulthood is such a pain, I want to be a child forever and always.

I want to sleep till 2 tomorrow and wake and bake.
I want to dress nice and explore this town.
All these new faces, new places.
So much life, so little time.

Maybe I'll do it all.
Maybe I'll do nothing.
I'm young, no restraints.
This vagabond life is something I have craved for for a long time.
I want to do it all, experience it all.

If I take a step forward, in any direction, I'll still learn.
I'll live and I'll learn, from all my mistakes, I'll learn.
I need to stop telling myself I can't do it. I can. I can do it all.

But tomorrow is a new day.
The night is long, but distant at the moment.
If he comes tomorrow, I'll fuck him.
I'll fuck him good.

Netflix And Chill

What would be the Indian equivalent to Netflix and Chill, come over for some whiskey and a joint?

Dating becomes increasingly hard the older you grow. Pretty faces don't attract you anymore because by now you've worked out a formula for yourself: you can't have good sex if you're not connected to your partner, no matter how attractive looking they might be. 

So I find myself in his bedroom, on his bed, naked to the bone, being ravaged by him. It feels alright or maybe I don't have a conscience anymore.
But there's something very attractive about the way older guys handle themselves, they focus on your pleasure more than theirs. They've been around in the game longer than you have and so they've got some fancy tricks up their sleeves, just that gentlemen never mention the details. They know better than to kiss and tell.

I try to figure out his dynamics.
He slowly moves closer to me. Closer. Closer.

He asks me if he can kiss me. The moment has passed.

Consent is a strange thing. If you say it out loud then you ruin it and yet at the same time, if you don't ask, you always leave room for a mistake.
I try to find his quirks and I find nothing.
He's as gentle as he's assertive.

More 30 year olds! What am I doing here!

He brings out a bottle of single malt, it's probably older and fancier than I am. I tell him that, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am young, allowed to make my own mistakes. We talk for a long time. about life as an artiste. We're not much different, only our mediums are.
I escape my tiny bubble only to be a part of a slightly bigger one. It doesn't matter though, none of this matters.

We kiss for a long time.
He kisses me for the longest time.
He runs his hands down my body, exploring it for the first time.

I'm slightly stoned. Or maybe I'm very stoned.
I want to make love to this man. I want to feel him.
Sometimes I grab him like a man and sometimes I'm gentle as a woman.
I don't know which role I want to play with him.
I have the most intense urge to pleasure him as he pleasures me.
I try.
I can't see the expression on his face but I can gauge that he's enjoying it.

I run out of time, leave his house smelling of him, still feeling his tongue on my body and his taste in my mouth.
Maybe we'll see each other again. I don't know.
At this point, I've left it all to destiny.