The Boy Is Mine but He Doesn’t Know It Yet

Hi Walter,

I just started dating this guy. And I think it’s going well. We go out for drinks and dinner occasionally. And when we stay in (at his place), we Netflix and chill it up. But I don’t really know where we stand. We have been dating for three months and I’m really to make this thing official. How do I know when to take this to the next step?

—Bobbing For A Boyfriend

Dear Bobbing For Boyfriend

Relationships were harder than a gay man after midnight. I never quite knew where I stood.

Instead of wallowing in insecurity — I filled my days writing and my nights dancing.

Maybe the distance would bring us closer? And he needed to learn to miss me.

He called the other day with questions of his own.

“When did we become exclusive?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I heard you say it before but I ignored it,” he said. “But I wanted to push back.”

“Well, we became exclusive based on how we have sex. And the night we exchanged those three little words.”

Penetrating strangers were hazardous to our health. And when your life is in the balance, is there any higher stake?

“That’s right baby. You do be giving me some good loving,” He said while laughing. “I’m sorry, you have to forgive me. I’m not myself today.”

“I’m glad I could clear that up,” I said. “Any other questions?”

We were bonded together through fluids and fantasy, a mixture that can undo us both if the chemistry is off. So, no added parties.

This relationship gave me anxiety again. I craved cocktails and coaxing to erase away my pain. My relationship was like Russian Roulette, staring down the barrel in the name in love.

I hung up the phone. I walked down the streets of DC with my hands shaking as I called my friend Ron to calm me down. I couldn’t believe he would ask me some bullshit like that. 

“But you have this amazing ability to handle stressful situations,” Ron said.

“Oh, thanks,” I said.

“Yeah, you shut that shit down, though,” Ron said.

But things were weird with my boyfriend. He wanted copious amounts of free time to deal with his landlord, divorce, and children. I tried to be understanding. I gave him the space he required.

That night I arrived at his house after midnight. He greeted me with a kiss.

“Walter, I called you here to break up with you. I told you I didn’t want anything serious. He said laughing as he locked his room door. But you got me together today. I can’t take this power you have on me. I don’t like when people pull at my heartstrings.”

He kissed me again and pushed me on the bed. We peeled off layers of clothes like at a sample sale. We had sex. It was a blur of him fucking me from the back. Back and forth until we crawled our way to the shower after we were done.

The next morning he kissed me goodbye before going to court to deal with the drama, stemming from his apartment building. I reclined in his bed all day, catching up on my writing, reality tv, and Facebook.

He called from Costco asking about dinner options.

“Baby can you do the dishes and prep the salad,” he said.

“Make sure you bring home some wine,” I said.

I turned into wife #2, playing house in the underwear he bought me. He returned that night with a mac and cheese and veggie burgers for dinner.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said.

I waited in anticipation as he pulled out a Karaoke machine. I rushed over to hug and kiss him.

He’s the only man in America that’s encouraging my singing. I struggled through a coterie of Mariah Carey classics. It’s hard singing through a microphone. Especially, when I lacked talent, tone, and pitch.

We had sex again. This time I hopped on top—my favorite position. It lasted 5 minutes. I came on his chest. I know so classy. I cleaned him up and went to the bathroom to rinse off the cum and lube.

I return to the bed where he laid in the middle of the bed like a capital “A,” stroking his penis with one hand while watching porn with the other.

“You need any help?” I asked.

I went over and sucked his nipples as he continued.

“Baby, you think I can play back there?” He asked.

“Umm for a bit,” I said.

I rolled over to my side, feeling lazy. He slid through—fucking me harder and harder.

“Damn baby,” he said. “I love you.”

Relationships should have a natural progression. After a series of dates, whether indoor or outdoor, we get to make our own rules, not follow the archaic/traditional examples of our heterosexual counterparts. But saying I love you, is universal.

While, I chose to transition my relationship, through sex and swag. Perhaps communication would be better. Disclosing that you want to be with someone exclusively is the next step. So tell him.

Sometimes after being deprived for so long, when I see a possible candidate, I want to give my all like Mariah Carey. But You can’t show a man all your moves after midnight. You have to have some surprises in store to keep things exciting.

Three months is a great time to say those three little words and start taking things to the next level. But when you do, remember everything will change.

Love,

Walter

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