Oh, God. Okay. Maybe that was a bit too fast. Maybe I just needed to figure out what the logical progression was. I could ease into it, open up my mind and then show my ass to somebody else.
I searched for "how to talk to guys on Grindr" and found a ton of videos and articles. Tapping on several of them, I saw the same wholesome but ultimately unhelpful advice repeated: Just be yourself. The problem was, I didn't want to be myself. Myself was a nerdy thirty-something who'd never been with another person outside of his wife. Myself was someone who thought hookup apps were weird, and that sex should be an intimate experience between partners. That guy wasn't ever going to get laid by anyone on Grindr, and that was all I could handle right now.
As I scrolled down the results, trying to find something a little less heartwarming, I noticed an ad placed in between the site listings.
I Know What Guys Want
Foolproof advice on sex and relationships or your money back. Whether you want a hookup or a marriage proposal, Dear Lonely Guy will help you be the man you want to be.
Okay, my first reaction was that it sounded like one of those gross pickup artist scams, but for MLM. I was prepared to scroll right by, but something about the ad caught my eye. Dear Lonely Guy will help you be the man you want to be. As in they'd teach me how to perform; how to not be so uptight about sending an ass pic to some guy I might see once and then never again.
I tapped on the ad, finding a simple page with a little more information and a form at the bottom. Apparently it served as a private Dear Abby-type column. He had some letters published as examples, but only with the guys' permission.
The advice seemed... pretty good, actually. And, the guy wrote in complete, grammatically correct sentences, which was a plus. Eying the form, I tapped on the PayPal button, paid the fee, then entered my question.
I went into more detail than I'd intended, telling them this was my first time getting back on the scene since my wife died, that I'd never been with a man before, and I needed help being someone other than myself so I could get outside of my own head.
They wrote back less than an hour later.
Dear Lonely Guy,
I'm sorry to hear about your wife, but good for you in taking this step. It makes sense you wouldn't want to jump into a relationship right off the bat. A casual hookup could be just what you need, and I'd be happy to help you find one that's going to satisfy your curiosity and get you out of your comfort zone.
I need you to understand that I'm going to ask you to do some things and talk to people in ways you probably haven't before. If it ever makes you too uncomfortable, let me know, but a little discomfort is normal. You're trying to push past your own boundaries, right? That's going to feel a little weird before it feels right, and we won't know where you should be on that spectrum until we try some things.
If you're still interested, message me back and I'll give you some exercises to get started. If not, let me know and I'll refund you, no questions asked.
- A Formerly Lonely Guy
I read the message several times, surprised by how eloquent and helpful this guy was, considering the service he was offering. It seemed promising, especially since he offered a refund.
I wrote back two simple lines:
I'm ready and willing. Tell me what to do.
4
Reuben
I knew better than to bring my work home with me. At least when David was there.
My raising my voice at all was upsetting to him, even when it wasn't him I was frustrated with. I'd learned to talk a lot softer since his diagnosis. Ruth and I both had seen a family specialist to try and work out ways we could best help our nephew. With his mom gone and his dad not wanting to raise a kid with "special needs," Ruth and I were all he had, and we needed to mold our lives to fit his as best we could.
I'd made mistakes. Lots of them. But, I loved David more than anything in this world, and if doing some fucking breathing exercises outside my door was a way to help him feel safe, I was going to do it. Even if it took a lot longer than normal this time because of everything that happened with Ty and that damn doctor.
Pulling up my phone, I desperately tapped the Calm app and loaded the guided breathing exercise. Without something to look at, I wasn't going to get very far. I watched the rings grow in size and shrink back down, inhaling and exhaling as it told me to. After a few minutes, I finally felt like I'd pushed all of my work shit to the side and I opened up the door to my apartment.
"Oh, good," my sister said, rushing toward me. She shoved a textbook at my chest, and I could tell she was trying her hardest to control her own frustration. "Maybe you can get him to focus on schoolwork. He's been playing around in that app again since he got home, and I couldn't get through to him."
I looked down at the algebra book, my brow furrowing. Not exactly my best subject, which was part of why I hadn't gone the doctor route. Lots of math needed for that.
"You sticking around for dinner tonight, or do you have other plans?" I asked.
"Other plans. Marcus and I are going to try that new restaurant on 34th. The one by the Publix? He's been bugging me to eat there for months and everything's just been so crazy. Plus, I didn't want to take David. New environment, not sure what kind of accommodations they'll make... you know the drill."
I did. All too well. Our nephew had been diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum at a young age. He still went to a public school and got about his life without needing a ton of help from Ruth or I, but there were things that triggered him badly. We'd learned each of these the hard way, like how poorly he responded to enclosed spaces and loud noises when we were getting ready to ride Space Mountain at The Magic Kingdom.
Sometimes new triggers popped up seemingly out of the blue. His therapist said that was normal, but it was always a kick to the gut for my sister and me. We felt like we'd failed at something we never could have anticipated in the first place. Like in trying to give him a normal life so he could grow into a capable adult, we were making things unintentionally worse for him.
It was hard not to think Abigail would have done a better job. Sweet, caring, and blessed with infinite patience, she'd been our mother's favorite for a reason. We'd never know now, though. Ruth and I just had to do the best we could with what we had.
"Go enjoy your dinner," I told her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "We'll be fine."
"You're sure? I could text Marcus and tell him--"
"Go," I said again, playfully shoving her toward the door.
She swatted my hands away but moved over the threshold of her own volition. I was about to shut the door when she said, "Oh! I almost forgot. There's some kind of beginner's game night happening at Mega Comics tomorrow night. They said it should be relatively small, and they've got a couple side rooms to section off groups. I already told David I'd take him."
That gave me pause, and I sent her an incredulous look. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"You know how much he wants to play, and he doesn't feel welcome at the club at school. I think it's worth a try. If it starts to get bad, we'll leave."
I drew in another long breath, running my fingers through my hair. "Alright. But if he starts to show any signs of having a breakdown, get him out of there immediately."
"I'm not new to this, Reu. Stop worrying so much." She inclined her head, her gaze sent over my shoulder. "Now go teach him some algebraic equations or something."
I rolled my eyes at her but wished her a safe drive to the restaurant before shutting the door. Padding into the apartment, I hit the kitchen first to grab myself a beer. I didn't like to drink to excess when David was around, but one beer barely affected me, and me drinking it had never seemed to bother him.
"Hey, David, you want a drink or anything?"
"Ice water. Five ice cubes." Belatedly, he added, "please."
I pulled a glass out of the dishwasher, held it under my ice maker until five cubes dropped in, then filled it with filtered wate
r from the fridge. They were steps in a ritual I was well familiar with by this point. Ruth and I had both needed to get the same sort of ice maker our sister had so we could make the ice he wanted. It was a comfort thing. Something that signaled a routine and said everything was going to be okay.
I couldn't say I minded. The thing made good ice. The setting David liked it on was large cubes, but it also had one for little chips that I liked. I decided to go ahead and fill up a glass of my own with them, pouring my beer over that before I headed into the kitchen where David was seated at the card table I'd "borrowed" from my parents' house.
Setting the water down in front of him, I looked over his shoulder to see that sure enough, he had the D&D Beyond app open. While neither Ruth or I really got D&D, we'd watched enough Critical Role with him to know the basics and knew that this app was one where you could create characters for use in games. So far, David hadn't had the chance to play in any games. He just loved creating characters, and a subscription to this app was the only thing he'd wanted for his birthday.
"What are you making now?" I asked, trying to ease into the topic as I set the algebra book down on the table.
"A multi-class bard and barbarian." He laughed at that, and I wondered if I'd missed some joke. When he looked over at me, it was obvious I had. "Barbarians are a constitution class. Charisma is usually their lowest stat. Bards are a charisma class. It shouldn't be compatible, but--"
My eyes started to glaze over a bit as he talked about stats and numbers. One of his favorite things in creating these characters was assigning points to them to maximize their potential. He was deep into the numbers of the game -- his therapist said it was his primary fixation -- and it was so hard for me to keep up when he started doing probability calculations on the fly.
Hearing all of this, I had no idea why he was even in basic algebra. He was a math genius, as far as I was concerned, but he only liked to do math as it applied to Dungeons & Dragons.
"I heard Ruth's taking you to Mega Comics tomorrow to play a game. You think you'll use this character?"
He shook his head. "No. He's not optimized for an actual game. He'd hold the party back. I'll probably just wait until everyone else makes their characters and choose whatever the party needs most."
I smiled at that, giving him a thumbs up. It was what I did whenever I wanted to pat him on the shoulder or ruffle his hair or something. He didn't like being touched, so I'd had to come up with some signal to let him know I was proud of him.
"That's great, David. I think you'll do awesome. Before you make another character tonight, though," not my best segue, but I was going to own it, "Ruth said you've got some algebra homework?"
He shrugged a little, gaze still fixed on his phone. "I'll do it tomorrow before class. Everybody always does their homework before class."
I knew from experience that was true, but I didn't want to encourage it. "Come on. I bet you can breeze through it. It's probably like what, twenty problems?"
"Forty."
"Okay, well maybe you and I can knock them out and they'll get done quicker."
"I'll do it tomorrow," he said again, still not looking at me.
"Hey. David." I knew it was a bad idea before I did it, but some stupid part of my brain insisted it was the only way, and I reached for his phone. "Set it aside. Just for an hour. Whatever you don't finish in that time, you--"
"Give me back my phone!" he said, his voice already raised to a panic. "Give me back my phone! Give me back my phone!"
The way he repeated it, the way he kept getting more and more panicked, I couldn't help but wonder if a teacher or another student had taken his phone from him at school. I hadn't been notified of him having any issues with that, but if it was a student, the administration might not have bothered intervening.
He kept repeating it, growing more and more distressed. I had no choice but to give him the phone back.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I just want to make sure you're getting your work done, man. It's important."
He pulled his noise-canceling headphones -- the pair he used to cope when there was too much going on -- up from around his neck, fitting them over his ears.
"What if we found a way to connect it to D&D somehow? I could look at the problems and--"
"I'm going to bed."
He took his phone and his glass of water and headed toward the stairs.
"David, you haven't even eaten dinner yet."
"I'm not hungry."
I knew it was fruitless to argue with him. I'd come by later and see if he wanted a grilled cheese sandwich or something, but right now, he needed to remove himself from the situation, and I needed to let him. Trying desperately to fix shit like I did with my job wasn't going to get us anywhere.
"Okay, well text me if you need anything. I'll come up later to see if you change your mind about dinner."
I heard the door shut upstairs and I sank into one of the chairs at the card table, dragging my hands over my face. Why had I done that? I knew better than to try and take his phone from him. I knew how much that app meant to him. It was hard not to think I hadn't left all my work shit at the door, since I didn't think I would have done something so stupid if I wasn't already frustrated.
I needed a way to blow off some steam. The gym was an option, but right now I didn't want to see the inside of a sports center, and that was likely where I'd go. I definitely didn't want to chance running into one of my colleagues.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I moved mindlessly between screens, looking for an app to open. Normally, I had to pass right on by Grindr these days. I needed my focus to be on David, and since I had him most nights, hookups just weren't possible. But if Ruth was taking him tomorrow night...
I opened the app, having to log in again since it'd been so long. Scrolling through, I found things hadn't changed much. Guys were still mostly posting pics of their chests and abs, with demands for partners that made me flip right on past. Even if I was considered "masc" by most of the queer community, I sure as shit wasn't going to hook up with somebody who thought anyone presenting as "fem" wasn't their kind of gay. That was some toxic bullshit, and I'd had enough of that in the past, before I wised up to how shitty those types of guys were. Not just personality-wise, but usually in bed, too.
I wanted something different this time, but all Grindr wanted to serve up was more of the same. Mostly white men who all had the same body type. I was just about to give up when I caught a pic of a guy who had a soft stomach and love handles, with adorable, dark fuzz denoting his happy trail.
I could imagine rubbing my face in that soft fur, getting it wet with my tongue, then gripping that little bit of extra flesh as I pounded into him. Just looking at his picture, my dick started to get hard. I tapped on his profile warily, expecting him to be some fucking neo-Nazi, with my luck.
DorianGay: Teach me what you like and make me yours for a night.
God damn. Something about that line really did it for me. I felt my cock throb in my slacks, and I glanced toward the stairs, seeing David's still-closed door at the top. Deciding it was best not to chance it, I took my beer up to my own room and lounged out on my bed, undoing my fly and squeezing my cock through my boxer briefs.
One pic and a profile tagline and I was already horny as fuck. It'd been way too long since I'd been laid.
Tapping to message him, I sent a one-handed text, as all seasoned Grindr veterans have done at one point or another.
HelpingHands: Hey. I like your pic. Cute belly.
There was a delay before I saw those three dots animate for what seemed like an eternity.
DorianGay: Thanks. I like yours, too. Wouldn't mind running my tongue over those abs.
Yeah, I was part of the problem. Just another guy who posted a pic of his shirtless torso. In my experience, it got the most options. I could be choosier when I talked to them. And I wasn't about to put my face on this hell app. My job could be on the line.
HelpingHands: Your profile sa
ys I should teach you what I like. You wanna know?
DorianGay: Absolutely.
No reason for pretense. We were both here for the same reason, after all.
HelpingHands: I’d like to have my hand on your stomach while your dick's in my mouth. You cut or uncut?
DorianGay: Uncut. You?
HelpingHands: Cut. That a problem for you?
DorianGay: Not at all. But if you don't believe me, you can always show me.
For some reason, I was a bit disappointed he was already asking for dick pics. Most of my conversations on Grindr started with dick pics, and it wasn't like we weren't interested in the same thing. I wasn't looking to build a life with the guy, I just wanted to fuck him.
Still, I'd hoped there might be a little more buildup. That didn't stop me from pulling my cock out, stroking it until it was rock hard, and snapping a pic.
I sent it to him and waited. There was nothing for a long time, until finally I saw those three dots again.
DorianGay: Love to feel that big dick hitting the back of my throat while you fuck my mouth.
I reached for the lube in my nightstand and slicked myself up, stroking more firmly. Precum was already leaking from my slit, mixing with the lube as my hand moved up and down my shaft.
HelpingHands: Would love to see your eyes looking up at me as you take my cock. But I'd love getting my hands on those love handles and pounding you into the mattress even more.
I reached down to fondle my balls, squeezing roughly. Leaning back, I even played with my hole, inserting one lubed finger, sliding it in and out until he responded.
Role Play Page 3