I'm 24 and in I'm in a pin-stripe shirt that's become a bit too tight for me, even more so with the week's all-you-can-eat breakfasts. I'm bored out of my mind with my first-ever professional conference abroad, and disgusted with the unofficial expectation that I now spend my evenings with professional networking and leave just enough time to jack off and sleep.
It's a big conference, divided between middle-aged lifers and young keeners. I think we were all pretending to value anything about this.
Throughout the entire first day there was an intrusive thought that was probably a terrible idea.
But, as Day 2 trucked on, looking around at the dozens or hundreds of strangers around me, at audience tables and at buffets, I began having silly daydreams about exactly what kind of bored my peers were.
I was definitely the only one who felt like THAT.
I was used to having an inconvenient daytime horniness, used to presuming I was the horniest presence in any room. It just felt unusual.
But at least, in this large city I was visiting, I wondered whether to take the plunge I had already taken twice before in my own city, to use the Internet to find out what strangers also needed to exchange gay sex without baggage.
As the conference session on Change Management began, I began calculating what we call in the biz a Fermi Estimate:
In a given city, there is a baseline of men who want to have sex with men, and some of them successfully sourced it. Of those, within that sub-population there is a baseline of men who keep their desires to have sex with men a secret; and some of them successfully sourced it. Of those, there is a baseline of those who don't trust others who live in that city not to remain strangers or at least discreet.
Which meant there is a baseline of men in this city who would only have sex with a visitor from abroad.
I thought about that for a moment. This sub-population seeks a resource that exists in scarcity, to fulfil a very real biological need, that can only be achieved in unusual scenarios.
And therefore I essentially represented 'a good' that was scarce and indispensable. There was a baseline of men in the city for which they would be desperately interested in having sex with me this week. Of those, a percentage of them had beautiful cocks.
The thought was discarded for the rest of the morning as silly fantasy but it returned at lunch. Watching the profiles of strangers of various demographics reminded me. I watched them. In my industry, no one needs to prove themselves by being chiseled or skinny, and I'm not drawn to chiseled men, they remind me of red-flag behaviour somehow. There's something about two sweet-spots in particular, 20ish years old and 40ish years old (broadly defined with lots of wiggle room within these 2 sub-populations of adulthood), something about the context of each of these 2 age-group's particular kind of horniness, that I desire to engage with so very much. Mostly hypothetically, but one session with each of these age-groups confirmed my happy suspicions.
It was almost to occupy and amuse myself that I got onto my old cruising site, re-triangulated my location, and just for the hell of it began to plan an anxiously bored anxiously excited message about how visiting this city for the next 2 days resulted in me being available for and in need of sex with a perfect stranger.
I soon noticed something that made my face go fuchsia.
Having triangulated myself to this exact neighbourhood, several people in this distance-sorted message board were saying messages that all sounded roughly the same: that they were visiting this city for a very boring conference and wanted to have hotel sex.
We were not Downtown. We were in an otherwise differently zoned neighbourhood. I did not notice other hotels around. This big building probably ticked off the buildings and residences around us.
So it was this hotel.
I don't know why I was bold enough to look individually at these messages while still at the hotel's (and conference's) common lounge area, but I instinctively darted my eyes around, in what was probably obvious and suspicious. I glanced back at my laptop screen. There were multiple profiles engaged in this topic, in multiple threads. Of diverse ages. Some of the profiles were erection-only or pictureless, but there was a sub-population of don't-give-a-fuck faceshots.
I recognised two of them. Not knew them, but those were two faces I had seen. Today.
And more messages still.
They had already started coordinating. I was not the first to think of this. I watched the context, and two of them had already entered an early negotiation to pair off.
I closed my eyes and breathed hard and slow.
thisisstupidthisiscrazythisisdangerousthisismoronicthiswillgetmefired
Wait. What is this scenario, exactly, that I was afraid of? That this subpopulation of men asking for anonymous gay sex at a work conference would find out that I was also interested in anonymous gay sex and talk about how they know?
I breathed and thought and thought. By definition every man who didn't want to have sex at this conference was oblivious to this conversation.
thisisstupidthisiscrazythisisdangerousthisismoronicthiswill-
"Hi everyone, I'm visiting for a conference in the Lower East Side of the city and this is my chance to have some anonymous sex. I'm unusually horny, I love giving blowjobs, I love getting blowjobs, I love both young and mature men, I don't mind your body-type, I just need you to be friendly and horny and discreet and giving. I'm recently certified healthy. Who needs some secret fun?"
The engagement blew up. There were offers from other neighbourhoods, but somehow in this conference was apparently emerging a teeny little countercultural community. Of gay sex.
There was a lot of adamant talk back and forth, but multiple couplings were quickly emerging. Among those whose attention I had attracted, I had gladly accepted that of a middle-aged man with a bit of a tummy and a stunning uncut penis, who was ready to be very very bi after a separation.
At least some of the pairings had mentioned tonight after the dinner. I enjoyed the shared pictures and sales-pitches of the other men, horny for most of them but cautiously happy with my outcome.
The afternoon sessions began, and it was a little harder to hear, as hail and later huge raindrops started pounding on the glass dome above us (the atrium was partly jutting out of the rest of the building in a boot kind of shape, probably exactly for this purpose of skylight). There was thunder as things went on.
While the conference ate dinner in earnest, some mandatory speeches proceeded, and carried on for a bit longer than necessary. The lectern was occupied for a good while as most plates emptied. There was a very tangible moment, with both released tension and added tension in the room, where the speaker finished her speech and, after a polite clap, invited up a far less mandatory speaker though on a topic pretty consequential for the industry.
Not perfectly planned. If you're a bureaucrat forcing people to listen to your little Expo, you back-load the mandatory stuff.
This was the very tangible moment, the flashpoint, where several people stood up, with polite gradualness but in no way lingering. Some of them carried on to the washroom. About 6 of us walked briskly from the atrium door to the elevator.
You don't look at faces while waiting for an elevator. In fact one tries pretty hard not to. But when one gets in the elevator (which was at least luxuriously large), one has to make tiny fragments of eye-contact to exchange negotiations of social contract: who will stand where, how silent to be, whether anyone is going to try to chat with you...
The first thing I noticed is that two of them were smirking but trying to act casual and not look at anything: one a young chubby younger man and one a tall man in maybe his late 30s.
The second thing I noticed was that I definitely recognised the face of a shorter middle-aged man, who I remember had an absolutely stunning penis.
The third thing I noticed was that the chubby young man had a familiar figure, and an image came into my head of a poorly-taken picture of a naked young body, neck-down, with a cute cut penis, trying to pose casually despite the nudity, in a dimly lit bedroom. The fourth thing I noticed is that yet another man, maybe the oldest, was looking very casual but whose very expensive-looking suit pants were terrible at hiding erections.
