Flying too Close to the Sun


Hi Walter, 

I just came out a few months ago. I heard stories of sexual experiences being life-changing. My men were mostly mediocre. Maybe it’s me but so far it’s been boring. As a bottom I feel like after the top cums that’s it. And it’s over. I sit there disappointed. There has to be more to life than this. Have you ever had a sexual experience that was exciting or life-changing?

—Just Bending Over

Dear Just Bending Over

Sounds like you’re having a bend there, done that existential crisis, at the beginning of your gay sexual experience. Perhaps you’re not meant to be a bottom?

Sucking off strangers could lead to self-discovery. I’m not the sucker in this story. But I wanted more anyway. 

We talked on Jack’d for a couple of weeks. He had a blank profile but a host of writing projects in the pipeline. So, one Friday night I stopped writing to discuss the writer’s life. I chose a platonic path, and I didn’t even douche.

“Can you pick me up?” I asked. 

“I don’t feel like getting dressed,” he said. “Take an Uber here, and I’ll take you back home.”


I decided to take the train to curb costs. I arrived at Cheverly metro station 20 minutes later. I got lost walking around the back streets, dead ends, and narrow ditches. 

He agreed to meet me at the metro. 

I’ve never seen a photo. Imagine going car to car whenever any 30-something black male appeared. And that’s if he didn’t lie about his age. After many missed connections I found him. 

We arrived at his house quickly. Thomas towered over me when he gave me a bear hug. He decided on The Purge:  Meet the Blacks while I poured myself a vodka cocktail. He held my hands just like The Beatles, except he dragged my body across the sofa. He engulfed my body like a blanket. He kissed me on the couch while he stroked my dick with one hand and squeezed my nipples with the other. I was in ecstasy until he bit me. 

When did biting replace kissing during foreplay? 

“Um, let’s watch the movie.” 

“Forget the movie. We are making one.”

He undressed me, covering my body with kisses. He fingered me while sucking my dick.

“Fuck the Purge,” I said. “I’m about to cum.” He worshiped me like a golden god. Is this what sex must feel like for a top when the bottom submits, catering to every desire with enthusiasm? 

I’m not that kind of bottom. Everything is a negotiation. You want a blow job and to fuck me, I need my nipples licked, and my ass ate. I craved kissing and at least two sexual positions.

“Fuck!!! I cumming!” I screamed as I pushed him away from my penis. He held his face there until I finished. 

I went upstairs to the bathroom to clean up. I came downstairs refreshed. He grabbed me and bent me over. “Oh yes,” I said. He ate my ass. I arched my back while my dick swayed side to side like a grandfather clock. He reached for his penis. Unfortunately, his little engine that could—lost steam. 

He fell out on the sofa sweaty and out of breath. “Damn, you wore me out.” He said. 

“Did you want me to suck it?” I asked. 

“No, I’m good,” he said.

We didn’t get to talk about my writing. The sexual dalliances obliterated our intellectual connection. We were primal and passionate. 

I never saw his dick. Once, he killed the lights and tugged at his shorts. I guess he didn’t have the balls to pull it out. What was he hiding?

I learned that it’s not about penetration. 

He drove me home and I poured a glass of wine and took a shower. Damn, this may be too good of a thing.

I felt diminished like part to me died. I liken sex to Icarus flying too close to the sun—precarious. After he pulled away I became crazed. I wanted more. As someone with an addictive personality, I enjoyed binging. I wanted his head between my thighs daily.

Next time I’m getting my dick sucked, I’ll watch out for the sun.

Now, you give it a try and report back. 



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