"When a relationship dies do we ever really give up the ghost or are we forever haunted by the spirits of relationships past” -Carrie Bradshaw
Cairo; one big city with many opportunities of meeting low class or sexually confused guys. If you go for a round in Jardino, you'd certainly see the fancy BMW flashing for some trashy looking guy and hooking him up, or maybe you'd come across that boy who only picks up soldiers; pay them and drive them back to their guarding post after blowing them; no matter what sexual orientation they have. You are actually having the typical queer life picture in my capital: fags who beg for a fuck, queens who shake their booties to catch the biggest dick, guys who love for the sake of having sex, others get committed just to show off how desired they are, or simple others who deny love, because they were badly hurt to the extent that they are scared to experience that delightful feeling again.
I have proudly joined the latter group.
As usual, three desperate boys were sitting in L'Aubergine surrounded by empty Meister and ID bottles, cocktail drinks and some remaining lemon cuts, were talking about their latest crazy dates:
"I tell you, that big!", said Shatz while holding some space between his two fingers.
"Holy Wood! That must be.. 22, 23 centimeters?", I said while keeping my eyes wide open.
"Yep, you said it honey, 23"; specified Shatz. I shacked my head and said: "I'd never have that unless I am really drunk!".
Shatz moved the ID bottle away, leaned next to my ear and said: "Don't we both miss a good dick?"
True! For the past whatever many times, I've always been the active part; whether I wanted or not. Physics always made sure that I end up penetrating the butt that was exposed in front of me. I am not sure maybe because I am too active or just because I can't find someone as strong and passionate as me on bed that I always end up controlling the whole process. I was longing for a good active man, I finally felt like Samantha Jones did when she was dating Maria and using the strap on dick.
"And how was it?", I asked while looking around; as if finding a good active guy became the biggest secret that a queer can keep and cares a lot not disclosing any information that would blow that precious finding's cover.
"He was great! A little painful, but loads of pleasure."
Samer laughed and said: "You guys never stop talking about cocks?"
Both of us quickly answered: "No!". I added: "Not because you're solely active, Samer, that we should talk about butts only. I want a good fuck, and I want it now! I just hope my trip to Alexandria tomorrow with Alfie will be worth it!"
I lit my Davidoff, had a deep breath off the butt and replied: "He's different. I am feeling a strange vibe with this guy, Samer. I know it's a dead end, but I should enjoy what I have."
Even though I knew it would be a dead end and I would totally break Alfie's heart, I wanted to try how would it be having sex with someone I was feeling a crush on his character, and not only his body.
9 weeks earlier, I met Alfie and knew about his life in less than a 2 hours chat. He just opened up to the guy that was behind the opened chat window. We exchanged phone numbers and I decided surprising him one day while he was at work. I parked and waited. When it was past midnight and couldn't see him walking out, I called.
"Hey you. Still at work?"
"Nope. I am already half way home. How are you, Digg?"
Disappointed, I answered: "Oh I am cool. Feeling a bit cold and strange, waiting for you down your office."
"Shit! Are you there?"
Yeah. Too bad I haven't seen you going out."
I heard Alfie lowering his car stereo and saying: "Sorry, I left half an hour early. Shit! Shit! I am coming back!"
I quickly answered: "No! I am already leaving. Well; it wasn't destined that we meet today. It's cool!"
After convincing him that it wasn't a big deal, we agreed that I would pass by the following week-end and see him, that time, with a set date.
When we greeted, I had an instant crush: Alfie had the major attraction features that I loved in a guy -strong and direct eye contact, wonderful Mediterranean tan, sexy chest hair and he was both a smoker and drinker through those amazingly well shaped lips. When I was driving to Cilantro to have coffee together, he hadn't stopped talking about everything. I felt comfortable listening to his warm tone and looking at his sexy light hazel eyes every now and then. Alfie was the type of guys who hadn't any problem with his sexual orientation but inexperienced:
"No, I never had sex with a guy before". It hit me! How could a 24 years old guy still be virgin? Hell, Charlotte York, with all her idealistic concepts, wasn't one!
"And that's because ...", I said while thinking about the tiny possibility that he would be rejecting the idea.
"... because I lived my whole life in Kuwait with no friends."
Our chats kept escalating, as well as phone calls and SMS's. We were eager and passionate, but I was worried and terrified being the-first-guy-to-have-sex-with. Maybe because of the memory that he would keep, or the feeling that I would get? That's when he said, one night:
"Digg, I had sex!"
Astonished, I replied: "Oh really? How was it?"
"It was okay, I mean, not great as I expected it to be. It was totally unplanned, you know, he just called me and I went to his place."
It was jealousy that I felt, I can easily recognize it: "Why did you do that?"
"Because of you, Digg. You didn't want me inexperienced!"
Now, he was hanging it all on me. As if I didn't want more pain and headache, making me feel guilty was too much.
"No! I haven't asked you to go and screw around! You shouldn't have done that!"
He felt sorry and assured me that he just wanted to break the first time's fear; especially that I wasn't flexible with the idea of him being virgin.
My feeling indeed changed: I wasn't flexible with the idea of him having sex because of me!
Weeks passed. I knew the real Alfie: a very shy person; even if he tried showing other than that. I was falling more and more in his amazing eyes; forgetting any uncomfortable feeling just by looking at him. He had this warmth glowing that surrounds you and makes you feel secured. He admitted that he wanted, on many different opportunities, holding hands, kissing or just caressing me; but he couldn't do it. I, with all the guts that I might be having and courage of breaking the ice, couldn't do that either. I wanted it to be special and different. He was very desirable and I didn't want to ruin my first taste of his honey. That's when I decided going to Alexandria, placed the Sheraton reservations and called him up:
"What! Digg! I am totally unprepared for that trip.. I mean, I am not .."
"Just move your butt! I will pick you up Friday at 8 AM."
And that's how it went. I couldn't stop in any Rest House on the whole way to Alexandria. We both were too eager to run away from Cairo, work, life and stress and just relax and be pampered by the sea side. For the first time, he touched my cheeck and neck, I felt electricity flowing all around my body. It got discharged on the gaz pedal, accelerating and diminishing distance and time to reach our ultimate goal.
As soon as we checked-in and showered, Alfie slept. His night shifts were exhausting him. I slowly moved next to him and held him tight, closer to my chest. Thoughts kept spinning intensively in my head. The closer he was getting to me, the bigger fear grew inside.
He slowly opened his eyes and said: "Hey you", even slower he moved towards my lips, and stamped a gentle kiss.
"I always wanted to do that", said Alfie while moving back to his foetus position. He couldn't be any sweeter, he couldn't be any hotter. I held him close, and for the first time since my break-up, I wasn't going Ga-Ga over his nude body -I was enjoying his hug and simple feeling; and that was scaring me; tremendously.
Alfie slept like a baby.
Two hours later, with a numb arm, my emotions manipulator woke up. I was determined that we would be having our most sensual moments; since both of us really needed it to be that way.
We kept making out, only, that whole day.
When it was almost 1 AM and after having our late dinner, we decided going to have a couple of drinks at Sheikh Ali Pub. I remembered Ayman and drew a big smile on my face while walking in; this time with a non-mirage person. In the pub, and after several drinks, I discovered another aspect in Alfie: he was the 'very social' guy. In those couple of hours, he managed having the bartenders, the owner and some of the clients gather around us, talking, laughing and discussing everything. He actually offered his help to one of the bar boys:
"Listen, when you come to Cairo, give me a call. I'll make sure I'd find a good place for you to stay in, cheap and clean". That's when I actually snapped. I asked for the cheque and we both left. In the car and under the alcohol effect, I asked Alfie to stop flirting with others. He simply answered:
"Digg; I wasn't flirting! They were all straights in there!"
"No Alfie, you couldn't see that group of guys who were right next to you? They were devouring you!"
"No, he answered innocently, Digg you know I don't have any experience in this. I couldn't tell who is gay and who is not."
I started my engines and we drove back to the hotel; by the sea side, in the calm Alexandrian night. Only two drunk souls were awake that Friday night, driving in style, holding hands and singing along with Magida al Roumi's Ebhathou Anny. I couldn't hold my burning desire, that time tripled with the chemical reaction that was swinging my head. We started making out in the elevator while going up 15 floors and intensively enjoyed our first nude body contact. I was falling apart each time he giggled while kissing, or whenever I heard his faint moan reflecting his pleasure.
I must admit; I never had such a passionate sex or good fuck ever! Every cell was screaming for his touch; and enjoying his warmth. We spent the most magnificent week-end together, since ages for me, and the first for him.
On the day we were leaving, I felt both powers inside me: one pulling me towards believing in him; another grip was holding on to my heart, squeezing it and reminding me how impossible starting a new relationship. It wasn't because I enjoyed sex, found someone who shares me a cigarette on bed or because I felt that magnificent feeling and a Magida al Roumi/Madonna/Mariah Carey fan would make me fall in love. I had many restrictions, borders and mined fields inside of me, that he had stepped on and blew one of them inside my head, reminding me how hard love is; how impossible that I can go through it again and moreover, how deceiving the results might be.
Was my previous and only relationship that sinking that the Black Pearl couldn't float again without a miracle? Was Alfie my Miracle, or was I too blinded to believe in it? The relationship's ghost was haunting me; and I never summoned it or asked it to leave. I could never answer positively when he asked me: Do you like me? I couldn't say Yes when he asked me: Can we date each other, exclusively?
Alfie understood, through my little answers and evading ones, that he wouldn't be building up hopes. I actually felt how weak I mgiht be, not being able to determine my real feelings and actually admit that I might start something with someone again. Alfie pulled himself away, he was busy, too busy to be honest comparing to our daily chats and talks. He is depends and trusts my opinions; and we actually talk every now and then, or I get an SMS expressing how he misses me; but I had to slow down: I didn't want to be his first heart breaker as well. On the contrary, I found myself actually SMSing him the other day: Alfie, I miss you so much. I am longing for those days in Alex, I so much want to hold you, kiss you, feel you, make you cover me with your passion. I need you, Alfie. That was too much for me to say, maybe it was the Tequilla talking, but I am not regretting that declaration. He called me back and told me how magnificent it was to read me saying that:
"You know Digg, I really wanted to hear you say that a long while ago. I just wanted to hear "yes"
Since that day, I am missing him and most of all, missing myself. I couldn't help but thinking about another Carrie's classic quote: "What ultimately defines a relationship, is another relationship". What was missing in that line was a conditional IF sentence, that goes like: IF you could make it!