In the winter of 2007, a massive storm hit Denver and trapped most residents in their homes. Like usual, I took to online chat rooms in order to kill time. Brian and Brad, a local couple that seemed almost too hot to be real, hit me up. Brian was clearly the more rambunctious of the two. We got on camera and he loved showing off everything he had. And like he boasted, Brian certainly had a lot (if you know what I mean).
He suggested that I come over via foot. Seeing as how I lived in Cap Hill and they were in the Highlands, a long winter walk didn’t seem like a safe idea. But Brian was bored, horny, and persistent. Thus, he suggested walking over to my place, then walk back to their house together. It would be a great way to break the ice before one wild threesome.
C*ck size never mattered much to me. In fact, I was often a “less is more” kind of guy when it came to that. But I also liked variety and it had been quite some time since I played with a tool that large. So I agreed to Brian’s opportunistic adventure and when he got to my place, we hit the road.
I learned Brian was quite the confident man. He had strong opinions on just about anything. I didn’t mind though since I was essentially using him for his body. Plus the weather had calmed down and made for an astonishingly beautiful walk in the empty streets. We had come across an open liquor store and decided to get a couple cans of Guinness, my favorite beer.
As we trotted along, nursing on our cold stouts, the conversation switched to religion.
“Well, of course I believe in God,” Brian said. “He gave me a hot face and a big d*ck!”
A bit blindsided by his statement, I figured it had to have been a joke. I prodded him in the hopes of finding some bad humor, but alas there wasn’t any. Brian had more than confidence — he apparently thrived on pure arrogance. My attraction to him slipped off like eggs on teflon and I no longer felt all that excited about our expedition. But by now, we had walked too far for me to safely turn back on my own. I was trapped with a man who literally considered himself “God’s Gift.”
Thankfully, his partner didn’t have such a well endowed … ego. In fact, Brad’s down-to-earth demeanor had me enamored. Still, I didn’t want to have sex with them anymore, yet I was too shy to say “no.”
In the middle of sex, Brian began complaining that I wasn’t “skilled” enough to take all he had to offer. I wondered if I was unconsciously clenched down to prevent this obnoxious man from getting all the way in. Either way, the sex was bad and no matter how long I stayed in my post-coital shower, I couldn’t seem to scrub myself clean of it.
Like most gay men, I’ve had my fair share of regrettable sex. But this time seemed different. I didn’t merely go against my lack of attraction. Instead, I sold out to something most of us entirely loath: A big d*ck with a big d*ck. Instead of being honest and telling him his attitude was a turn off, I caved in and gave him a half- assed version of what he wanted. Nothing seemed to be worse than being looked down upon by a narcissist.
The next morning, Brad cooked breakfast while Brian pressured me for a second attempt. Luckily I hated morning sex, making it much easier to shut him down. The roads cleared a bit and Brad drove me home while Brian jumped online to look for more sex. I felt like a tool and decided that during the next storm, I’d stay home with my cat.