This is the story of Mick. That's not his name. But he'd find this story, know it's about him and irritate me to no end. So let's be safe and call him Mick.
I met him through www.bearwww.com. He's a sexy and accomplished gentleman who travels to the Bay Area quite often to review and praise antiques. Apparently, he's an expert on the topic and even a published author.
I first was attracted to his dancer body and then, after awhile, his really beautiful cock. It was not only a great size but it had a nice shape.
He also had a sharp wit, we enjoyed each other's online back-and-forth banter.
He seemed very interested in me in our online chats, that he scheduled a business trip to San Francisco from. He wasn't coming really just to see me - he did tie in into an annual art show that he frequents and thought he would also stay for the Alameda Antique Show.
When Mick made his own travel plans, I was impressed how he didn't rely on my assistance and expertise in hospitality. It turns out that he made his own plans as he has obsessive-compulsive disorder. He always had to stay at the same hotel in the same room and rent the same car. (He realized that the car was a tough one so he at least just stuck to the same brand and color.) He also didn’t ride elevators and every time he left the car, he walked around and made sure every door was locked, even if they were locked from a prior ride, but he would still double check each door.
Our first date was kind of rocky. It should have been our last. Hence, the red flag blog title! We met for dinner and he was kind of curt in the middle of the meal. He said he was very tired and we shouldn’t continue to talk about such frivolous things as movies and entertainment. Not only are those my favorite topics, I find entertainment to be the safest topic. While I don't talk about these often, but I do know that politics, religion, abortion and finance should really be kept for a future date. I told Mick that if he was so tired he should have cancelled our date. He said that would have been rude. So I asked what was ruder - cancelling because you’re tired or treating me badly because you’re tired. He got the point and become more pleasant.
I drove him to his hotel and hugged him good night. Or was it goodbye? I felt he had a lot of baggage and I didn’t feel the greatest connection - shouldn’t I just move on?
But the next day I had a very nice email telling me he had a nice time and he wished I came to his room. Why would I go to his room if he was too tired?
Anyway, we agreed to another date. This one was more pleasant but still had its dicey moments. I did go to his room on the second date. As a good guest, I took my clothes off neatly and found an area for them. Yet, when I came out of the shower, they were refolded and put in a different spot that Mick thought was a more appropriate spot.
Then Mick was a little mad I didn’t dry myself off properly. I told him I do some air drying. But he took a towel and dried me better and more completely. Whatever.
We went to bed and we kissed. Mick was a wonderful kisser. It was very nice with soft presses of his lips to mine and slightly, sexy nibbles to my neck.
As he got on top of me, he whispered that until we are life partners, he would not fuck me. Instead, we performed frottage (basically rub cocks into other crevices of the body). It’s actually kind of nice. I like to lube up between my legs and have someone's cock rub there, right below my testicles.
Mick did enjoy this too. It was nice until he came. When he was in the moment of climaxing, though, something weird happened. So odd that I was ready to bolt out of the room - but then I didn't because I was naked.
So as he’s cuming, instead of kissing me deeply or nibbling on my neck or whispering something sexy like “that was beautiful” or something hot like “Kevin, you’re a sexy big bear.” Mick pushed my face away as if he was repelled by me or as if he was picturing someone else and then he was surprised it was me.
At that moment, I said, “Are you fucking kidding me?” I got up and said, “Do that again mother fucker and you’ll never be able to enjoy me again.” Mick got up and said he was sorry. He just thought nibbling my neck was too intimate so he just pushed me away. I don’t know, but having a naked man on top of you, cuming all over your belly and cock is kind of intimate to me.
I don’t know what really came next with Mick, but I do know every moment had its challenges and required a lot of work and effort to be with him. It was never relaxing and comfortable. He said couples always have to work out their differences, but I said couples also need a honeymoon phase in which everything about each other is cute and exciting. But Mick often blamed his mood on jetlag.
Mick also told me that since he runs his own business and can do it from anywhere, I just need to give the word and he can spend more time in San Francisco and with me. I thought this was kind of rushed but a good option. So for the time being, Mick would come and go as he pleases for work and for me and now was staying in my home instead of a hotel.
His mood swings were still too much to take. I remember one time, at the Gay Pride Parade, which I find to be one of the most romantic days when you’re gay and in love, I should have been having the time of my life and this is the day I decided to introduce Mick to my friend Lisa. I forgot what little thing we fought about getting to the parade, it might have been as simple as his driving as we fought about that a lot as he was a fast driver and I was always afraid for my life in the car. Or maybe he didn’t like where we parked. Whatever the reason, by the time we got to the parade, Mick and I were not gay lovers but bickering queens, even making Lisa uncomfortable.
Then I remember another time when I would tell Mick that he got mad at me all of the time and blamed it on jetlag. So I said next time, find out how long jetlag lasts and stay longer. So Mick immediately got on the phone, changed his flight plans to leave three weeks later than he said and told me I will see the difference. He asked #2 to take care of things at his home. (He referred to his ex-boyfriends by number. He was proud that they were all still in his life. If I recall, he had three ex-boyfriends.)
In his extended stay and in the hopes he'd get over "jetlag," we were going to met my friend Shannon to watch a TV show the three of enjoyed.
So Mick was going to join us at their home for TV and pizza and Mick decided to bring a nice bottle of wine.
In thinking about it, I thought that asking him to watch a TV show out of context may not be fun - so we switched it to dinner out and a movie. Better plan...I thought.
Dinner was nice too. We kind of talked a long time too so it was too late to go to a movie. So we decided to go for a walk around the Castro. Mick got moody and said why don’t we go for the walk without him and he would meet us in the car and just wait until we were done. We told him we didn't need to go for a walk. But he insisted. Really insisted.
We tried moving on without Mick but it felt kind of weird knowing someone's waiting in the car, so we ended the evening and I went to the car.
I got to the car and Mick was fuming Shannon didn’t come back with me and didn't take the bottle of wine! I said they didn't felt uncomfortable coming back to the car. Mick said that we Americans can easily just change set plans. He was perfectly happy to watch TV and eat the pizza and then we switched it up completely. He said I shouldn’t change plans to accommodate him. Well, I would never do that again.
Then, there's the time we had a fight in front of his friends at a Berkeley Thai restaurant. He liked to see them once every time he visited and I thought my coming along was to get their approval - maybe I'll be boyfriend #4. They were a very nice straight couple with an interesting house filled with artifacts, all with their own story. These people were delightful. I think they liked me too.
We walked to the Thai restaurant and everything started out nice - right up to the point where we were almost done with our appetizers. I was scraping the last bit of one appetizer onto my plate and not even in a whisper, Mick said, “Please don’t lick that communal fork as we all need to use that for service.”
WHY WOULD I LICK THE FORK THAT IS SHARED BY EVERYONE!? I politely told Mick and so his friends could hear, “Why my dear Mick, should I have the notion to lick a fork, I would certainly use my own personal utensil.” I may have said this in a crappy British accent so I sounded like a Jane Austen character. But the look I shot Mick was definitely American. My look might have conveyed, “You smug, fucking rude bastard!” He tried to lovingly touch my knee several times through dinner but I pulled it away.
As friends can attest, in public, I am great at showing one person I am mad at them while not spoiling my conversations with others. It’s the Kevin Cold Shoulder. So for the rest of the evening, I delighted in hearing the tales of Mick’s friends, but I did not speak to him or allow him to touch me on any level. In fact, I think when we passed around the shared entrees, I sent them the other way.
I did once glance Mick’s way and he mouthed, “What’s wrong?” Is he kidding?
While those are some of the bad stories, we did have a few sweet moments in the several times Mick would come to the Bay Area. I remember that we used to write cute “miss you” notes and hide them from each other before he leaves. I’d find one some place in my house and he would always find mine in a piece of luggage to discover when he returned to Belgium.
But I knew the end was near. I think it was around his birthday when we went to a late night concert that featured one of my favorite gay icons, Martha Wash.
I remember as we were dressing for the concert he told me I should move to Belgium to be with him as I have no strong ties here and the relationships that I do have are frivolous. He said he wouldn’t be such a big change for me as I don’t even get phone calls from these so-called friends.
I about cried.
I was silent as I didn’t know what to say. When I did compose myself, I told Mick that I do get lots of calls from friends but he failed to realize that since his time here is so brief, I leave my cell phone off and return calls when he is not around.
I said, as well, that at least the people in my life aren't called #1, 2 or 3.
The evening was kind of ruined for me. I think the relationship too.
Yet, some time after that, apparently Mick didn’t think our relationship was over as we went for a hike up Mission Peak and at the top of this beautiful mountain, he told me he loved me.
Well, my silence told him more than my words. But I did tell that he was a nice person, I just don’t see spending my life with him.
You know, even now, as I remember all the pain he caused me, thinking of hurting him or anyone in that position really makes me sad. I wished I could have loved him. But I didn’t.
Mick tried to remain friends via bearwww but I think he thought I was always being cynical and not sincere. Surprisingly, one of his ex’s (I think #1) started emailing me, and I think Mick put him up to it to kind of spy on me.
At some point, I decided to cut my loses. He had issues to deal with and I am not a problem or solution. I sometimes laugh and wonder if he thinks or talks of me. If he does, I am sure I am referred to as #4.
#ABearsTale #GayBears #GayLoveStory #BearLoveStory #RedFlags