A note from your host:
The following post was never really intended here due to it being highly autobiographical in nature but after some consideration and the realization that I would be doing Paul a disservice I have created this entry (I have also included his photo with his permission).
It was hot Sunday in August and Toronto was having a Fetish fair in the gay village. I had to admit that I really did not feel like being here even if I was dressed in my USMC dress blue uniform. It was not due to a lack of nice looking eye candy in leathers, uniforms or sports kit but I felt alone. It seemed that everybody else knew someone here or were looking to start conservations with someone new. I wandered around checking out the various booths to see what they were offering but I knew that most of what caught my eye was way out of my price range or was not really my style.
As the day progress I grew bored and more than a little depressed since I felt that I did not quite meet what others were looking for. It did not take a genius to see that I was not buff and muscled or had chest hair or started to show that I was a bit over weight. I was tall and very skinny and that certainly not the stereotypical gay male. I actually had someone ask me if my weight was due to being HIV+.
It took a bit of self control but I did give him a reply to the negative and pointedly reminded him that there were other reasons for a human to be thin including one’s gene code. At this point I decided that I just about finished playing ‘dress up’ for the day and should just cut my losses, have a quiet beer or two on one of the many outdoor patios the bars had set up for the day and then go home to surf the internet.
I think that was mid way through my second drink that I was approached by someone dressed as a baseball player. “So soldier, are you drinking alone?” I nodded and took another sip of my beer. In a way I was torn between wanting company and wanting to drink alone. “Want some company or do I have to enlist first?” I had to laugh at that as I motioned him to join me and I knew that I really needed the company.
As he slid onto a vacant chair next to me he smiled and said “Hi, I am Paul” that was when I noticed that he was wearing the jersey for the bar I was drinking at. So I really did have a real player of the sport and not someone dressed as one. That scored him more than a few points in my book.
As I tried to become more conservational with him I did see that he filled his uniform very nicely in all the right locations even if was not as tall as me not was he in the over muscled category and the occasional view of thick chest hair just added to my interest. O.K. the sex drive may not have been dead but, I certainly wanting to know him better for other reasons than a romp in the hay. That might happen in the future but I was more interested in a real human conservation.
Over the next several hours and numerous beers we talked exploring various topics and he began to introduce me to his friends as they passed the street patio and we discover that we had many mutual friends, most of whom I had lost contact with.
By the end of the night we had exchanged phone numbers and had promised to keep in touch before he gave me a long and touching hug and an even longer open mouth kiss. At the end of the kiss I gave myself permission to give his firm looking ass muscles a tight squeezing grope and he gave my crotch the same loving attention when we separated. At this point I knew I would be calling him and soon even if it was nothing more than a coffee together.
That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship and as to if we had that roll in the hay I do not kiss, grope and tell (not in this case).