Ashes to Ashes

After one of my breakups, I got on Grindr, naturally. I immediately saw a nearby profile, just a couple of ft. away. It wasn’t even miles yet. I remember seeing this person’s pictures before, in fact I was 100% sure that those pictures must have been at least 3 years old from the time I had seen them. They looked like professional headshots, he was clean cut and dapper, he looked dominant too, overall the photos were pretty hot. Besides starring him and screenshooting the pics, I’ll admit that I remembered jo to them too. I did wait a bit to message him, I would say 2 or 3 days. He appeared so close I thought he was staying in one of the motels nearby, I started to think it was a catfish of course, or if it wasn’t a catfish, that he was some PNPer who uploads pictures before the meth use, and when you see them in person it’s some stranger who vaguely resembles the person in the photos.

We traded photos, he sent me one that I really loved with him wearing a backwards hat, big pink lips, a slash on his eyebrow and a plain white shirt, the sun shining behind him. He also sent his dick pic, and damn lol… After a bit of convo he mentioned how he was charging, I said to him that I wasn’t interested in paying for sex and left it at that. It didn’t last for long, I was interested in seeing him in person, to know if he was real, so I asked how much and for what and for how long. For me $60, typical sex things, for about an hour. I only agreed because something was drawing me way too much about him. First time I paid for sex. He gave me the address, I showed up, he was real, and in my opinion he looked so much better in person. He was scruffy, had stay in home clothes which turned me on so much. He said he had 3 roommates, which all had their room. He was staying in the living room in a makeshift room, the ones with curtains as walls. He had a drawer with a TV on top, a PS4 hooked up, some wire shelf things that held the curtains up, his mattress on the floor with one or two pillows, and a big David Bowie poster on the wall that always stared at us everytime we had sex.

I topped him, I would have loved for him to have topped me, but it didn’t happen for reasons... But it was great, one of the best fucks as a top that I had ever had I made him cum without touching himself and he made me cum without having to pullout and jo. He admittedly liked it too, we were sweaty as fuck because he had no AC and this was early in the summer I believe. I left satisfied. He hit me up again the next day wanting to do it again, but I told him I wouldn’t pay. He said it was fine, if I could just get him two King Cobra tall cans. I did. And it was, again, really great sex. This time we started to talk, I asked about a limp he had when he walked. He had been attacked early in a dark morning while he took a piss near some train tracks by cholos who thought he banged. It was a combo of his shaved head, clothes, tattoos, and mean look. As he tried to escape he fell down a hill and got injured, shoulder, arm, lower back and a leg. He had been seeing a chiropractor, who was helping him get back to a better state. He told me he was a dancer, and that he still wanted to dance. It was cute how he would show me his dance videos and be so into them. He wasn’t working because of his injuries, which is why he was engaging in sex work.

We developed kind of a friendship/relationship, I liked him, I didn’t care if he was having sex for money. He was making me feel so good and in turn helping me get over my ex, so yes he was a rebound, but he also was getting over someone too, so I guess it worked out for the time being. I met his mom, who had Cancer, his relationship wasn’t the best, I think the frustration came because he couldn’t really help his dying mom. I can tell he really loved her, he would tell me all the time too, but when he was with her, he would just explode for little to no reason. I would drive them to the liquor to pick up tall cans, and we would chill for a bit in the parking lot while they smoked weed. His mom was a sweetheart, so kind, and loving. It would hurt to see him act so mean to her. Eventually, that meanness started to head in my direction. He would push me away when things got too serious for him, he would lash out at me and told me that it wouldn’t work out. I knew it too, but I liked the lust and pain I was feeling when I was with him. It was replacing lust and pain from the bigger picture. We argued a couple of times and made up. Once I did get annoyed at him because he invited me to hang out which I was excited about, I got there and he didn’t want to kiss, or cuddle, or even have a decent convo, he looked distracted on his phone. He was waiting for a big paying client, and I was still being supportive. Ten minutes in he got a text confirming his appointment I guess, the person was paying him 300 dollars and getting him an Uber to and from his place to Long Beach. I was super pissed to say the least. Not jealous though, I would have been fine if he had just not hit me up that day, or would have told me from the beginning, “hey I might see a client, so I am not trying to do anything right now”. First time I was actually left with blueballs (blueballed?). Whatever, that.

We hung out at the park one of the last times I ever saw him, he was feeling sick of being home all day, so I took him to the park. He wanted to feed the ducks, so we got some bread and a couple of tall cans. That day was really fun, I was feeling foolishly hopeful. We had good conversations. But a day or two after he snapped at me, told me some shit and I told him some shit back that he clearly didn’t want to hear, and we ended things for real. Months later after I had gotten back with my ex and broke up again, I hit him up again hoping he had cooled off and maybe wanted to see me. He didn’t, he had moved and didn’t want to share where. I think about him from time to time, and reminds me how I appreciate summer flings, rebounds, certain toxicity, lust, pain, longing, and great sex.

"I'm happy, hope you're happy too"