Okay, now I’m even more confused…a dyke lesbian? These are not synonyms?
Someone please help out a poor confused fucking breeder*!
*;), of course.
What happened to the original context of this post? Did it have to disintegrate into a hair pulling match over actually nothing?
I guess this is the PIT mentality, huh?
For what it’s worth, Scott, I envisioned the whole scene you described in your OP shot in indy-film comedy style, complete with shaky digital camera work. Very funny, creepy stuff.
But you haven’t lived until your boyfriend’s parents have caught you both naked in their hot tub…
Why, thank you. 
I often find myself in situations that could have been ripped from a movie or sitcom. I’ve already told my Mulva (“Seinfeld”) story on the SDMB but would be pleased to recount it once again. 
I can’t believe my first bf and I were never caught. We used to shag like bunnies in my bedroom with both of my parents home (sometimes on the same floor), in his bedroom or basement with both of his parents home, in the tent at his cottage, at school :eek: (including upstairs in the auditorium during an assembly being held below) … But we were two horny gayboys of 17 and 16, so what can one expect? Good times, good times. 
- s.e.
Ah, MrVisible, you can’t just leave a storyline like that hanging . . .
So yeah, anyway. . . What’s a Chyck?
Mmmm, poppers. Lovely poppers. Shageriffic!
(Domestic violence? Not another red herring? Heavens above! Small clue for those in need - Domestic violence does not normally start out on the first date. The man or woman who beats his/her partner usually starts off sweet and “gentlemanly”, and moves on to later use violence as a means of establishing control because they’re too weak minded to have a relationship between equals. There is no context for domestic violence within the one night stand.)
And gobear I’m not a gay man (I’m a bi woman who mainly has sex with men), but I have more than a vague idea of the general gay bar game plan, and I’m very happy with the idea of going out on the pull for the hot dirty sex! (not picking nits or owt, just hoping pathetically for some form of validation from gli homosessuali del SDMB)
gobear-How about you bite me twice?
NOWHERE did I say that gay men all lead risky, dangerous lives.
I simply said it’s a stupid risk to go home alone with a total stranger. Sorry, it is. I don’t see how that’s a comment on gays or straights. I wouldn’t care if he went home with some little old lady to help her with her knitting! It’s the same fucking thing! If that makes me a whiny, cowardly prude, so be it.
I thought the same thing when some guy at work was ranting about his girlfriend-turns out they had known each other for a week and he moved in with her after knowing her for four days. And he said, “But she has sex with me, but she doesn’t want to be serious!”
Just some random, scattered things I’d like to say here. (BTW, this thread is not upsetting me. I’m finding it rather amusing.)
-
I am 30 years old. I’ve been sexually active with men for 13 years. Safe sex and HIV/AIDS awareness have been drilled into my head for even longer. I know how to put on a condom. I know to not (pardon my French) fuck a guy up the ass without one. I have a clean bill of health. The worst thing I’ve ever contracted was crabs, and that was only once. (Do you have to declare crabs when you cross the border back in Canada?
)To be honest, given my sexual history, I’m genuinely surprised I haven’t contracted anything else (things that condoms don’t protect against). -
I am aware of the inherent risks in going home with someone I’ve just met. However, I am able to take care of myself. Just because there’s a infinitessimaly remote chance that I’ll be raped and/or murdered doesn’t mean that I should somehow curtail my sex life and be a chaste hermit until “Mr. Right” comes along. (Because he hasn’t shown up yet.) Am I just supposed to wank forever? Come on.
2a. I trust my judgment. There have been occasions where I haven’t gone home with someone, or haven’t responded to their cruising, because they creeped me out. The guy in question chatted me up mainly out of concern that I wouldn’t make it home OK. You might say, “He was just using that as an excuse.” Well, maybe. But if it was an excuse to talk to me, then I can’t help but feel a bit flattered. It’s nice to know, two days after your 30th birthday, that you’ve still “got it,” as it were.
2b. I met the last guy I went out with online. We met for coffee, and then went back to his place. He turned out to be a really great guy, and we were (more or less) together for a few months. Unfortunately, we’re not in contact right now, which is a shame, but there you are.
- My OP was about the weirdness of this guy’s ex bursting in on a Saturday morning and claiming what was his. It was not, I repeat, not about what I might or might not have done in bed with this guy, although I had to clarify eventually. What’s this mentality? “scott evil was lying naked on a couch with a guy he just met! Let’s give him a lecture about safe sex!”
3a. I do not make a habit of meeting someone and immediately asking “Did you just have a nasty break-up and is your ex going to come storming in tomorrow morning?” :rolleyes: How the hell was I supposed to know?
-
Yes, I have a mother, and the most she tells me is to be careful and protect myself. I don’t recount episodes like this to her. She’d be mortified. But that’s because she’s my mother. Having one mother is enough. I don’t need more, especially virtual ones.
-
I appreciate the concern shown by many of the other posters, even if it seemed unwelcome. I’m glad you’re looking out for my well-being. However, this thread was (I say “was” because it’s since gone awry) about a strange experience that happened to involve me and another gay guy. So suddenly, I’m bombarded with all this safe-sex stuff. It would be one thing if I posted something every time I got laid, and only about that. (That would be totally crass.) However, my OP was just about an unusual experience.
5a. I never boasted. The OP wasn’t about evil, shameful gay sex and what a stud I am. :rolleyes: If you want me to boast, just ask me, and I will. I’ve got stories up the wazoo.
- He did call me yesterday, and left a message. I’ll probably see him again later this week. And I’ll probably ask him WTF was the deal with the ex bursting in.
Thanks to my fellow gay Dopers for chiming in. I’m not going to stop posting stuff that has to do with my being gay just because of this. That would be akin to going back into the closet, and that’s not a place I want to ever be again.
- s.e.
Gobear, I’m not judging Scott, nor do I claim to know more about the gay lifestyle than gays. I was simply replying to the people in the thread who were arguing that violence doesn’t or isn’t likely to happen.
I included the links to domestic violence because that’s how I Googled my way to gay rape. (Try typing “gay rape” into Google and see what you come up with…rape fantasies aren’t isolated to us breeders.) The point, once again, is that violence DOES happen…everywhere and in all walks of life. That is ALL I was trying to illustrate.
In the two posts I’ve made to this thread, I don’t believe I’ve insulted anyone, implied that gays are dangerous or passed judgement on Scott (or anyone). If you honestly believe I have, then I’ll be more than happy to apologize.
Sue.
PS Before any of you get enraged about my rape fantasy crack, look
here.
Okay, Scott, but the real question is…what the hell is a “chyck” already?
Scott, as your friend, I must warn you: do put on a virtual prophylactic before engaging in cybersex.
Sheesh!
Fuck it. I’ll just apologize now, hopefully covering everything I could have possibly done wrong.
I am sorry if I caused any stress, ill-will, hurt-feelings, etc. It was not intended at all.
I do not care who Scott, or anyone has sex with or how long they’ve known each other before doing the nasty. I’m sorry if I implied it somehow. I’m not willing, or even able to cast stones in this area.
If I implied that gays were violent or dangerous, I’m sorry. I think I’ve explained this in my previous post.
And finally, I’m sorry for even daring to interject anything at all into this thread for I obviously have no useful information or valid opinions about anything at all and even if I did they wouldn’t be appreciated because I’m straight. From now on I’ll just keep my big fucking mouth shut. Consider my lesson learned.
“Chyck” is just the way I spell “chick.” It’s like womyn (with a ‘y’). So rather than wite girl, or woman, I’ll write “chyck.” Just a quirk of mine.
Man, this thread has gone to a lot of weird places. I need a nap.
- s.e.
You could have demonstrated that violence is likely to happen by pulling up a cite on suicide bombings in Jerusalem and it would have had the exact same amount of relevance to this thread as cites about domestic violence between gay spouses, which is to say none.
What led you to believe we were unaware of this? Hamish said that the overwhelming majority of tricks do not end in violence. Considering the people he knows, and the many thousands of totally peaceable tricks they’ve had in total - well, it may be anecdotal, but let’s just say he’s not generalizing from a small data set. He wasn’t claiming that it never happens - just that the response scott is getting is way, way out of any proportion to the actual incidence of violence, especially among guys (such as ourselves) who know and understand the scene and are capable of taking care of ourselves.
Ninety-seventh verse, same as the first: that wasn’t Hamish, that was me. Sorry. And also sorry to Sue, who simulposted her retraction as I was responding to the thing she was retracting. Aaaack.
That almost happened to me! Well, it wasn’t my boyfriend’s parents but mine, and it was a regular tub, but - well, let’s just say that Dad came home unexpectedly, and there was a tense few minutes involving much breath-holding and a strained excuse, and leave it at that, shall we.
Well, my Grandmother once opened my bedroom door to tell me I had a phone call, and she got a great view of me bouncing up and down on my BF.
Ah, for the special days of being nineteen again.
My head hurts. 
Esprix
Okay…
So, my gorgeous but insane (and long since ex- ) boyfriend and I were spending a wonderful evening together, watching a spectacular meteor shower from the comfort of his parents’ hot tub, high in the foothills above Tucson, where the night sky is spectacular. Dozens of meteors shot to their spectacular deaths above us, as we gazed in wonder and slowly, languidly made love.
When his parents arrived home. I caught a light out of the corner of my eye, which turned out to be their headlights approaching the front of the drive. My boyfriend said it couldn’t be them, they weren’t due home until tomorrow. And I took his word for it, until the car pulled up next to the patio gate.
Our clothes, of course, were inside the house. Which was about a three-second run from the hot tub.
Which is how it came to pass that my boyfriend’s parents got a three-second glimpse of my hairy ass as my boyfriend and I dashed, soaking wet, across the patio and into their house.
Oddly enough, nobody ever mentioned it.
So now, I want to hear scott evil’s buttload of braggadocio. C’mon, you must have some major stories…
That’s one way of putting it.