We were supposed to have coffee, but opted for beers instead. It was a crowded bar and I wanted privacy; I had some questions to ask. Questions about the mechanics of what we were maybe going to do if this first "meeting" went well. See, I think it's important to clarify just how you're going to fuck before the actual event takes place. This is crucial.
Homeboy and I, after we were seated, started talking about the trivial shit we could care less about. He's a student, math major. Okay, that's kinda hot. As a proud, card-carrying nerd, I'm quite into fucking other nerds. Eventually, I just blurted out "so what do you think?" His hazel colored eyes traveled down my face, lingered for a second on my beard, moved down to my chest. "You're a dude" He looked at me then like I was supposed to feel complimented by his assessment.
"I know this. I mean, what are you into sexually?"
"Not dudes," he said and took another swig of his corona.
I grinned then. I don't know why, but there are certain nontrans guys I just love fucking with. The type who'll flirt yet still insist that I'm a girl. The type who'll message me incessantly, anxiously wanting to meet, yet when they encounter the realness of me, and the reality of their attraction to masculine bodies, will throw up some front. Alright. I decided to play along.
"Cool," I responded noncommittally, "then we're just 2 dudes having a beer." That's when he started sharing his "women troubles" with me. Women just don't get him. He was married for 10 years and she did him dirty. He's really into trans women, but responded to my ad out of curiosity.
"Tell me," he segued, "how can you be living as a guy and still be attracted to dudes?"
"I like dick," I responded, making sure to over-enunciate the K. My lightweight ass was beginning to feel the effects of the beer and I'm raunchy as hell when buzzed. "Do you like to perform oral?" he asked without missing a beat. Obviously, the beer was working on him too. "Do you?" I asked back. "Very much so. I'd like to see you without your clothes." I asked him if he was more interested in proving or disproving something else about my gender. "Maybe, but I also just want to see you." He flashed the same seductive smile he'd sported in his pic. The same pic where he'd been shirtless, a doo rag on, and his smooth, caramel-toned torso inspiring thoughts of the X-rated variety.
"Are you into rough stuff?" he continued. The negotiation had started and I was trying my damnest not to let my excitement show; negotiating sex acts is one of my favorite types of conversation. I wanted him to clarify what he meant by "rough". "I'm an aggressive top," he added with a sly grin. Oh yeah, I'm familiar with the type. For nontrans men it may mean they have to make the first move. They have to flip you around, contort you into various positions. They may talk dirty in your ear, pinning you down as they plunge into you. In other words, power - expressing it - turns them on. (I know this may sound scary to some, but power play during sex can be hot. You just have to talk honestly about what you will and won't do.) I'm not into pain and I mentioned this to him. Neither was he.
"You realize that you'll be doing all of this with a dude, right?" I reminded him, after we'd spent a few more minutes listing a few other activities we wanted to try together. He shook his head. "I can't see you that way while we're doing this." What the fuck?! "I see a dude in front of me now, but when we're fucking, in my head you'll be a..." He trailed off then and I knew what he was afraid to say. Shit. That caramel hue, smooth skin, and "fuck me" smile really had me wanting things to go down. But could I do it with a dude who refuses to see me for who and what I am?
I tried to tune out the rest of his rambling and quickly finished my beer. Snatches of his monologue, like "I can host" and "my place isn't far", inadvertently caught my attention. I had to get the hell out of there before my libido continued making decisions for me. I caught the waiter's attention and asked for the bill. "You're ready to go?" He asked. "Yeah, I'm going home, but this has been...nice." He looked surprised then. I said I couldn't sleep with someone who pretended I was someone else. I got up to go and he asked if I was sure about wanting to leave. I looked at him and, god, the lookist in me wanted to sit my ass back down. But I just couldn't let myself go there, so with that I wished him a good night and left.