A visit to a South-American guy in Kensington

A week ago, it’s Sunday afternoon and I can’t help being logged into gaydar while working out whether to put in any bids at one of the forthcoming auctions at Christies in London. I reckon it’s good to have a variety of hobbies, and culture (Christies) always mixes well with sex (gaydar). The good thing about all the online gay cruising web sites is that you can log in and leave the screens in the background, and then if anyone finds your profile interesting you might get a message.

But the trouble is, if I’m feeling just slightly horny, I find it hard to focus on what I’m meant to be doing. I keep drifting back to the gaydar screens to see whether there are any interesting guys, and to use the gaydar ‘tracks’ feature to see who’s been looking at my profile.

Gradually a couple of guys on gaydar contact me, but one guy is too far away, and the other can’t accommodate which is vital because I never allow guys to visit me in the home I share with boyfriend number 1. But eventually a nice looking South-American guy contacts me. Everything seems in order so I tell boyfriend number 1 that I’m off to the gym and head over to Kensington to visit him.

When I arrive, it’s one of the huge old white terraced houses from the Regency Period that would have had the kitchen staff and butler working in the basement and servant bedrooms in the attic. These days most of these houses have been converted into flats, and sure enough the South-American guy has one of the two flats on the ground floor.

“You don’t have the whole house then”, I joke with him as we walk briefly along the enormous hall to his door.

He smiles at me, “Errr no”. He’s got a cute smile, and a lovely latin accent. Not Mexican which is my favourite latin accent, but a lovely accent none the less. Looking at him face to face, the photograph on his gaydar profile is definitely a few years out of date, but comparing him to what I can remember of the photograph it’s still a reasonable match. My guess is that he’s early/mid thirties rather than late twenties which is what his profile claimed.

Inside, his flat is very tidy.

“So where do you want me?” I ask him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looks slightly unsure of what to do next.

“In here”, he says after a short pause, and I follow him into the room at the front.

I sit down on the sofa and ask him for a glass of water which he fetches from the kitchen. But he sits down at the other end of the sofa, which makes things difficult. To make things happen, I need to touch him a bit, put my arm round him, kiss him perhaps. Then we can undress a bit and get cracking.

We chat for a bit. He’s from Peru. Gradually I edge closer to him, and soon I can put my hand on his knee. He doesn’t resist.

“The trouble with most guys from gaydar”, he’s saying, “is that they’re so impersonal. You meet them, they want to fuck you or get you to fuck them, and afterwards goodbye. No cuddles, none of the gentle stuff.”

After leaving my hand on his knee for a minute or so, I lean forwards and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. He smiles.

“Shall we stay on the sofa”, I ask, “or is there a bedroom to go to?”

I follow him into the bedroom. We strip down to our undershorts, and once we're both on the bed we start kissing, cuddling. He loves cuddling, which is great because I do too. Soon I notice that his undershorts are having a difficult time restraining his 'one-eyed trouser-snake' which from the outline looks decidedly frisky.

“Let me take these off”, I say, as I carefully release his cock from his undershorts before removing them completely. He does the same for me, and we carry on cuddling and gently playing with each other. We spend a long time enjoying each other, and have a lovely time. Afterwards I hold him tightly in my arms and we almost fall asleep.

I’ll definitely keep a look out on gaydar for this guy. But on my way home, I start to worry about something else. When it comes to meeting guys for casual sex, am I addicted? Do I have a problem with self control?