It's fun being a twink magnet, but sometimes I long for the company of men my own age, men who remember dial phones and David Cassidy, who don't spend the entire evening texting and talking about Lego Star Wars, who don't initiate the bedroom activity by saying "Do me, Daddy!"
The problem is, here on the Plains, most of the out, open gay men over 40 have long since moved to the nearest gay neighborhood, leaving the closeted, skittish, newly out, and downlow. And they usually say "No one over 30" in their profiles!
"You're just not looking in the right places," Gabe, my vegan friend with the enormous penis, tells me.
"I get perved by older guys every five seconds," my sort-of boyfriend Dustin adds. "Want us to set you up with some?"
"Hookups or dates?"
He laughs. "Whatever you want. We can even share a malted down at the sock hop, if that's your bag, Daddy-O."
So Gabe and Dustin text a few old boyfriends and get on a few hookup apps, and before I know it, they've set up a week's worth of dates and hookups with bears, daddies, and silver foxes.
Dustin and I meet Brad at the Wine Bar near my apartment, where I gamely sip on a soda while he prats on about beaujolais. He's a husky bear in his 60s, balding, white beard, hairy chest, never had a boyfriend -- "I'm too independent for that."
He's retired, wintering in Florida, and spending the summers immersed in wine, gardening, and...well, not much else.
After a long, boring conversation, we go back to Brad's house, about 20 miles away, for more wine and soda and boring conversation. I go down on him right there in the living room, more out of boredom than desire -- averaged sized, thick -- and when he is finished, Dustin and I drive home, yawning.
Gabe comes along on my hookup with Footman, who wants two foot masters, whatever that is.
We drive far out to his house by a lake in the middle of the night. Footman specifies that we should not shower after working out, so we smell nice and ripe.
He's in his 40s, rather buffed, with a hairy chest, prominent nipples, and a small penis with a Prince Albert.
He sniffs our socks, takes them off, massages and kisses our feet, and then brings us into the bedroom, where he continues to massage and kiss our feet. I don't want to kiss this guy after he's been playing around with my feet. He won't do oral. He lets me go down on him, but does not become aroused. "Play with it with your feet!" he suggests.
Ok, I'm outta here.
Thursday: The Bisexual
Dustin and I hookup with Adam, from a small town about 50 miles away: he's only 42, tall, black-haired, black beard, a little chunky, with thick biceps and a thick cut Kielbasa. My only turnoff is the innumerable tattoos.
He's a computer technician and avid online game player, born and raised in the Plains. He lives in a house that belongs to his parents, sharing with a heterosexual couple and his girlfriend.
Um...girlfriend?
"Oh, sure, I love women. I like playing with guys on the side, of course, but nothing can compare to the soft, smooth, feminine curves -- man, they even smell good, you hear me?"
Um..ok, I go down on him to shut him up. He's not bad in the bedroom, passionate, into oral and kissing, but how can I concentrate with the mental picture of soft, smooth, feminine curves in my head?
Saturday Afternoon: The Smoker
Gabe and Dustin both tag along for this hookup. For some reason, they tell the Smoker that we're all anal tops. We aren't.
The Smoker drove 80 miles to be here. He's in his 40s, thin, wiry, heavily tanned, with a stupid moustache. He stinks of smoke. Kissing him is gross. I go down on his long, pale white penis while he goes down on Gabe. He doesn't get aroused. Then Dustin tries. Nope.
"Mostly I just beat off while getting screwed."
I turn him over on his back and try entering him, but he's not good at that, either. He keeps sputtering and choking. "Mostly I just get screwed," he says.
I'm on my own for my date with Corbin. He's exactly my age, but he looks much older, bald, craggy, sagging, somewhat feminine. He lives in a small town about 30 miles away, where everyone knows but no one talks about it. He's a high school music teacher, and plays the organ at the small fundamentalist church that he grew up in.
After dinner, we go back to my apartment and into the bedroom. Corbin is into kissing, but his cologne is a little much. He has a thin, white-haired chest, a little belly, and a Bratwurst that doesn't get aroused, even though he augments it with a cock ring.
"Try this," he says, and bites my nipple -- hard.
I bite his nipples -- hard while he manipulates himself. It takes forever.
How does someone my age get to be so old?
"Tonight, we'll be hooking up with..." Gabe begins.
"Oh, no," I interrupt. "I've had enough of the foot fetishists and nipple-biters. Tonight it's my turn to pick someone."
I go on a dating app, and start a conversation with TJ, age 25, who works in a restaurant downtown but is planning to go back to school for a degree in psychology. Tall, slim, nice pecs and washboard abs, average sized, uncut.
Gay, out, employed, two miles away, no fetishes, non smoker, able to get aroused, able to go down on me without choking!
Maybe I can put up with the texting, references to Lego Star Wars, and "Do me, Daddy!"
See also: What Dustin Likes About Older Guys; No One Over 30.
Sorry, I forgot to say who tagged along on which date and hookup. I fixed it.
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