cotieguzman

[cotieguzman]

From Vegas to Washington Capital

It is weird how sitting down to talk about this story suddenly felt really hard despite there only being happy and positive memories attached to this experience.

His name is Marc.

I met Marc when I did a random trip to Vegas with an old friend of mine, Dave. We stayed at The Flamingo because we were able to score hotel and flight deals through WestJet. It was honestly a blast because The Flamingo has the best out door pool in all of Vegas (IMO)(minus children - bleh).

One of the nights I got right drunk sitting at a flash bar - or wait... maybe we were at the Piranha (a gay bar). Either way, the drunk part still holds. As one does, once the night comes to a finish, drunk, and in a new city, you end up clamoring onto Grindr or Scruff in hopes that your lowered standards don't wind up as a shame story.

This story is far from that. In fact, I can say with full confidence that I am still in love with him all these years later.

I suppose that's what happens when you get to live a fantasy out loud twice with someone you're attracted to with liminal behavior at maximum.

Marc was staying at Caesars palace which was located across the street. Now, for anyone who has not been to Las Vegas, crossing the main strip into another hotel is not a quick walk over. You have to leave your hotel, navigate leaving the casino attached at the bottom, cross the actual strip itself, enter into another casino and navigate a completely new hotel to find one room amongst thousands. Then the bow-chicka-bow-wow can start.

First, let me describe Marc. He's kind of a hipster who dresses nicer and with a stronger sense of self. He is a ginger-blonde with a full chest of hair. He is kind of thinning but it looks good on him. He is kind of scruffy and has the best face. About 5'8'' (from my memory) and has one of those sexy dad bods you just want to rub yourself all over and cuddle into.

SIDE BAR: I just spent the better part of an hour looking for the ONE photo of Marc and I. I always fucking misplace it and I was going to add it to this post so I could have it somewhere I knew I could find. I hope to find it again one day.

When I get to the hotel that he is staying at turns out he is also drunk. We both have somewhat unfulfilling sex as our aim was to get off but we both found ourselves unsuccessful due to how intoxicated we were. He invites me to spend the night with him which was an obvious yes.

The next morning, we had very memorable sex.

Like I always do, I think to myself " What if..." and we exchange Instagram handles so we can follow each other.

I want to stay in contact with this guy even though I know that he is an American who lives on the other side of the continent.

However, we end up staying in contact for some time.

I want to say a year or so later I tell him I want to go and see him. We discuss and choose a time where this is a gay event happening called M.A.L. (Mid Atlantic Leather). It is a big deal for leather lovers from all over the world.

That was the deciding factor and the tickets were booked.

Washington capitol was going to be cool to see. The white house and being in a new city all together. And, guess what? We also made sure we had enough time to do a road trip to New York for a few nights. This was my first (and still only) time in New York.

Now I am really excited for this trip.

At this point I already know that I have feelings for the guy. I am traveling across the continent into a different country to spend almost a week with someone I have a major crush on purely based on a one night stand and some casual conversation on Instagram (I am willing to take risks if it is worth it to me).

Washington capitol is beautiful. Trump was president during this time so I ignorantly thought the people would be a little more crazy but I found myself feeling at home pretty quick. To my surprise, when we went bar hoping we managed to head into three different gay bars out of at least 3 more that I seen that all had niche demographics of people hanging out in.

I remember telling Marc often that I felt very grateful that I could be there with him. And I was! Grateful, that is. It felt like one of those magical hallmark stories where you meet someone, fall in love, hold hands while walking down the street and everything. I was more than grateful, actually, I was falling in love.

Also, guys, the sex was the bomb. I have had sex with over... at least 500 or so people (to date) and I still think of my experience with him as some of the best sex ever. Granted, I didn't know I was falling in love with him yet. I am confident this played a very large role in this.

He was a great cuddler. The kissing?! I still remember how he tastes and crave the connection our mouths made. A firm and passionate mouth that makes you feel like he wants no one else other than you. He loved to eat my ass like it was his last supper while I laid there huffing on poppers. Talk about paradise!

The M.A.L. event was pretty amazing. It was this event that rooted my love for the leather community. Albeit, I am still a baby when it comes to the leather community. I do know my fascination and love for leather will never go away. I saw my first pup pen. Actually, I think this was my first introduction to pups and pup play now that I think about it.

SIDE BAR: This is my third sit down to work on making this post (this story holds a lot of weight to me). While making this I had to reach out and tell him I was thinking of him. We have fallen out of contact. Still no reply a few days later. I find solace in knowing that he thinks of me once a month when he pays for his invoice for online personal training. *sigh*

For anyone that is curious, I am a great road trip partner. I love chatting, listening to music, stopping for food and sight seeing and if (only if) the connection is right, we can stop on the for some road side sex.

I loved the drive to New York. Turns out Marc and I have very similar tastes in music. Maybe one day he would be interested in going to a music festival. I am always looking for reasons to gtfo of this place.

We stayed at this really cute boutique hotel that we found at AirB&B for a fantastic price. They had unlimited wine and beer between 7:00PM and 9:00PM every night that we were there. I had heartburn I drank so much wine. I was even able to help two older ladies who were clearly on a best friends trip navigate how to use a computer because they were old fashioned and preferred having a printed flight manifest rather than one on their phones. I was able to do this all in Spanish in front of Marc. I wanted to impress him.

I am circling back around to the sex. I can't get over it. We fucked at every chance we could get. Truly, if there was a negative to express between our dynamic it would be that he is a strict top and I am a verse. Neither here nor there considering the orgasms were that memorable.

I had a list of three things I wanted to experience while I was there.

I wanted to see the MoMA

I wanted a New York slice of pizza

I wanted to see a fucking New York rat

The trip to the MoMA was the most memorable experience in an art museum I have ever had in my life. Did you know that Marc lived in New York for 10-years? Did you know that he had a background in art? Like... not an interest but a formal background. My experience walking through the museum was like walking with a personal tour guide who set up the fucking museum itself. He had such vast knowledge of the art, artists, the exhibits and how, what, and why they were set up as they were. We would walk into an exhibit and he would immediately explain the relationship between the two artists being showcased in the museum and why the art was displayed as it was. He knew so much about art and it interested me to listen to him go off because it interested him. I liked listening to him speak. I was so impressed by him. Here I was excited that I was going to be able to see Starry Night but the experience left my soul feeling full.

Of course we checked out Time Square but even cooler was this recommended pub that Marc new about off Time Square that had been there since its inception. It was this long skinny old pub. When you walked in it felt old immediately. Pictures all over the wall of all these famous people who had shared a drink there. Mismatched tables and chairs and if I remember correctly it had a distinct "boxing" theme. I remember taking a candid photo of Marc that I will never see again but I remember him in it.

I remember him wanted to show me a recreation of the Arc Du Triomphe. We had gone a little bit out of our way to see this all while eating my slice of New York pizza. I remember him showing me and I couldn't help but laugh out loud because I had recently gone to the Paris Gay Games where I say the real thing! This was the single part of the entire trip I regretted. I wish I didn't laugh because I remember seeing him deflate a little.

The drive back was a little more solemn. We only had one more night together and we were going to spend it holding each other in his bed. The whole experience was bitter sweet, romantic, a fantasy.

I wanted to leave knowing I was going to see him again. I didn't know that it was going to be the last time him and I ever seen each other in person again. So far this stands true.

The flight back was quiet. I was fortunate enough that I ended up sitting alone because I wasn't able to hold back my tears for most of the flight home. I missed him immediately. I also knew I was coming home to an empty room. However, I was coming home with my heart overflowing.

[cotieguzman]

Late Night Stoner Musings 1

"In another life, would you date me?"

I am sitting here with the phone in my hand at 10:30 at night contemplating hitting the send button but... I just can't.

A part of me knows the answer. Another part of me knows the obligations attached to the reality. I am also unsure if I want to hear the answer to this question. Saying it makes it a reality in many ways and I choose not to let those words have that power over me right now.

"I am heading to bed. Have a great night."

I took to long to say anything.

"Have a good sleep. Talk later." I reply. What else do I say?

It is weird how words CAN have that power.

I should be more mindful.

[cotieguzman]

Story Time: Crossing Dicks

So, part of this journey in my dating experience is to share with you the crazy stories of situations I have found myself. For a while, I thought it was just coincidence, then I thought it was bad luck, and now I am realizing the universe must be preparing me for something fucking awesome.

I'm waiting.

Right now as I sit here programming I received some messages from an old friend, Ryan. **For the sake of keeping all my stories straight (or gay, whatever) I am not using any fake names so if you're called out for being a POS then you fucking deserve it.** Anyways, Ryan is this major cutie from Calgary. I met him when I was there for Western Cup for the parties about a year ago. I stayed at the Mariott by myself so I could engage in lewd sexual conduct without having to bother anyone.

During my stay, I had been experimenting with seeing a dom daddy from Calgary (not Ryan), his name was Sebastian. Honestly, he was a very sweet guy and the reason I gravitated towards him because of his specific interest in leather and in the playful use of kink and fetish toys.

I have been known to have sexual interests that require a person to have a specific interest in less than vanilla sexual interests, but that is for another time I think.

Lets get to the tea.

So Sebastian ends up spending the first night with me. We had intentions of doing some M and heading to the main party. The main party sucked. So we went back to the hotel where we spent the better part of the night having some pretty great sex. I had my wrists and ankles bound, gagged and he was the Dom that I wanted him to be.

After the next day I connect with Ryan. Ryan is this muscled twink with a big fucking dick. He was the bottom between the two of us and I ended up fucking him twice. It was so good he came back the next day for more, only this time I shared him with my buddy Ricardo. Again, we fucked twice.

Something felt different this time. Something ALWAYS feels different when you let your dick do the thinking for you.

I went home thinking about Ryan. We stayed in contact over the next month on Whatsapp sending one another video messages on a regular basis.

I had to see him again.

So, I booked a trip to head to Calgary. Only this time it was to spend singular time with Ryan as a weekend of discovery. I booked with Red Arrow. I was to arrive in Calgary quite early so I thought I would reach out to Sebastian and see if there was an opportunity to connect.

We connected.

After a round of being tied up and flogged, Sebastian offered to drive me to Ryan's place. What a gentleman.

On the drive there (the drive happened to be on the other side of Calgary, so I was very thankful for the drive) Sebastian goes quiet. The silence was long enough that a person questions the silence. Like, you just dropped a load in my ass after leaving me with marks all over my body so I am curious as to where the silence is coming from.

He then asks "What is Ryan's last name?"

I tell him.

He then proceeds to have a little menti B while I am still sitting there wondering what the fuck is going on. 5-10 minutes of "omg" and "are you kidding me?" Like, dude. I have no fucking clue what is going on here.

After reality sets in I find out the very guy I was in Calgary to visit was a third in the relationship between Sebastian and his husband. I don't mean like a little fling either. They were in a three way relationship.... for 4 fucking years. Ryan lived with them. In fact, the very vehicle that Sebastian was using to drive me to Ryan's was Ryan's old vehicle.

I am not making this shit up.

What does this mean between Sebastian and I?

Do I tell Ryan about this?

I am stuck here for the weekend at the mercy of this new found information with no immediate back up in case this blows up in my face.

I do what I do best. Communicate and see where this hand of cards decides to fall.

What the fuck else am I suppose to do?

In the end, Ryan and I were not romantically compatible. Sex was fucking amazing - he's so hot. But our personalities were just not pairing up and that's okay.

I go home with my balls empty and my head full. I suppose, another normal situation for the Guzman.

[cotieguzman]

Poly, Married and With Kids

I went on a second date today.

If you can believe it I connected with him over Tinder (shocker, I know). The only reason I bothered wanting to go on a date (which, if I am honest I thought was not a date when we first met for coffee) are for two reasons:

He is married, has kids (and is still happily married and living with his wife), is in a polyamorous relationship exploring what his bisexuality means to him.

After a few exchanges he wanted to meet in person because he prefers direct and open lines of communications face-to-face (boner!)

Why would the first point be a point of attraction? I know you're asking. Let me tell you.

I barely have time to remember to wipe my own ass if I take too long of a shit so the idea of a full time boyfriend exhausts me. So knowing that he has a life outside of my own that he is committed to going back to is appealing to me. I currently don't have the time or energy for a full time boyfriend (at least I think I don't). One day I could likely commit to something like this but I have found myself with barely enough time to breath.

Anywhoooo.

So I have gone on a second date. The first date was an obvious success. We went for coffee. I always have an exit strategy for coffee dates because I usually get bored after about an hour and I will want to move on with my day.

This time it was different for me.

Outside of questions involving some clarification around the dynamic of his relationship, a basic understanding of what he might be looking for in someone, I was actually intrigued by who this dude was. Firstly, hes fit (I know what you're thinking but seriously, I need someone who can climb a mountain with me and not fucking die). Secondly, he has a career as a medic in the military. Thirdly, he is a NERD! Like, we talked Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica and plants. Fourthly, he is fu-ck-ing hot (at least by my standards anyways). Firth(ly?), when we sat and talked over coffee (which was for 2.5 hours) he never once had his phone out. He didn't need to chronically check it or need to have it sitting out on the table like a security blanket.

After we finished our coffee date I felt refreshed and when I asked if I could kiss him (in public people, lets get used to this), I was his first kiss with a man ever. Do I hear birds singing in the background?

So, second date happened today. If I want to get to know someone I am going to avoid doing something like the movies, or seeing a show or something that is going to keep me from talking with the person (time is very precious to me so LETS GO).

We went to a board game cafe. I like board games a lot and he mentioned that he did also.

It was a great choice in the end.

At this point, the only shitty thing about sitting across the table and kicking his ass twice at the game was that my normal "I want to fuck this guy on the table" demeanor was starting to kick in. I am still trying to come across as a gentlemen despite knowing that I am a kinky little slut on the inside. *sigh* We played for two hours and decided to head to Campio for some za and beers.

I wanted to kiss him before pizza. I wanted to taste him. So, when we sat in the vehicle I asked (yes, I ask every time at the until I KNOW, you know?) We kissed like fucking teenagers and it felt great.

Campio was great. Now he is opening up about some interesting stories as a medic in the military and I try and make my life seem interesting without having to bring sex into the conversation. Whatever I am doing, it is working.

We finish eating, pay, leave and before we even get into the car we make out in the middle of the parking lot. He drives me home and we make out some more before I get out and go home to bed and make this post instead of being responsible and going to be bed for my 5:00AM wake up for clients (it's currently 12:59AM - I am dead).

You're probably wondering why I didn't take him home and fuck his brains out. Remember what I said about being a gentleman? Yeah, I can do that sometimes. Many people just don't get to see that side of me.

My take home.

Are straight men entering into queerdom my new flavor of interest for considering as a possible romantic partner? It feels nice to have someone want me (but... like this, not because they want to use me for sex) and he actually SAYS it. It also feels kind of nice knowing that I don't have to do all the work arounds of navigating another gay man with the same bullshit narcissism and gay themed trauma we all experience having to deal with one another (excuse the run ons, English was not my strong subject). I also feel refreshed by the idea that he knows NOTHING about me so I don't have to enter into this (whatever this is) with my walls so high I can barely breath.

On the plus of not getting laid.

I can save myself for my live show for my JFF account tomorrow.

[cotieguzman]

The Amuse-Bouche

I have been told by many people that my luck in dating is worthy of note. It is kind of interesting to me to hear others discuss my pursuit of romantic relationships as if the only thing really worth hearing about are my experiences about how I end up putting myself in one catastrophic situation into another.

I suppose, when I really look at my dating life objectively, what really surprises me is how I have not ended up in prison for murder. Queue the humor.

However, from my perspective, as subjective as it may be, I have carefully curated an elaborate maze in my mind and heart with walls so high that it appears I am looking down an infinite hallway when I look up. Most times I find myself lost in the very maze I built to help keep people out.

Ironic as that may be, you did not come here to learn about my anxious attachment personality disorder. You came here for the drama, like everyone else.

What I am debating is where to even start. If I look at my romantic history in the past year I can count four failed attempts where I directly contributed my time and energy in relationships.

Well, your guess is as good as mine.