After a Hookup

[Author's Note: I recognize and embrace the fact that there are many healthy ways for people to experience, explore, and celebrate their sexuality. This story is not intended to promote any particular approach to sexual relationships over another or condemn any such approaches. This is a story about one man examining his own personal choices on how to explore and express his sexuality and whether they are personally fulfilling for him. Any attempt to universalize his story is a gross misuse of my story. Any assumptions that I, the author, am trying to universalize this story as if it applies to everyone is an unfortunate misreading of my story.]

I sat on the edge of the bed, still naked while he quickly dressed. He glanced at his watch, "Damn, my lunch break ends if ten minutes. I doubt I'm going to get back to the office before it's over." He shot a huge grin my way, "But you were worth it. Thanks man."

I nodded absentmindedly as I stared at the floor. He called me "man." I doubted he even remembered my name. Not that I could blame him, mind you.It's not like I remembered his name either.But he's the one who had been going on about how great I was. I mean wouldn't it make sense to for him to remember the name of the person who made him feel so good? After he finished putting his suit-jacket back on, he offered the usual platitudes about how we should "do this again" sometime. I mumbled a half-hearted agreement with him, thinking of all the other guys who said that without ever actually contacting me again. A couple years ago, i had even tried making the initial contact in hopes of setting up a follow-up tryst. After the fifteenth or so time getting brushed off, I gave up.

Once he was gone, I stood up and glanced at the clock. I still had twenty minutes until I needed to check out and vacate the room, so I headed to the bathroom. I turned the shower on, then sat on the toilet. I felt like I needed to expel the evidence of his climax from my insides before I climbed under the spray of water and washed off the sweat and lube. As I climbed in and soaped up my body, I thought about the experience I had just had. The guy had been an okay sexual partner. Unlike some of the others I've been with, he even made sure I came too rather than just dumping his own load and then calling it a day.

And yet, I still felt undervalued. My mind came back to the fact that he never once said my name or even indicated that he had heard it. I wondered if, in his mind, I was "Ben" or "a hole I can stick my dick in." Lately, I'd been feeling like every guy I climbed into bed with seemed to think of me as the latter more often than not. It's why I had posted a more traditional "looking for romance" ad online. I didn't really need romance to have sex -- I had abandoned that notion two years ago and found a great deal of relief and less stress in my life as a result -- but I did need to feel like a real person sharing an experience with someone who saw me as such. Also, I wasn't opposed to romance, and since casual sex had quit feeling like it was meeting my needs six months ago, it was time to try something else again. Was there anything in between those two poles?

I finished washing my body and rinsed off as I thought about these things and feeling a bit frustrated. No one -- well, no one serious -- had responded to my romance-seeking ad. Sure, I had gotten a few responses from guys who I assumed respond to every ad with "let me fill your orifices with my sauce" in hopes that they law of averages would bring them a lucky response.That's why I was here, cleaning off the evidence that I had responded to another ad for casual sex. Yeah, I wanted more, but at least my physical itches just got scratched? Better to just be emotionally dissatisfied rather than emotionally dissatisfied and horny as hell, right?

I got dressed, gathered up my belongings, and checked out at the motel's front desk. The employee at the desk looked at me and smirked. I rolled my eyes and headed for my car. I climbed in and glanced at my cell phone, to discover that I had an email message waiting for me. I pulled up the message and groaned upon seeing it was a response to my ad. I considered deleting it without reading it, but decided it might at least be good for a laugh.

"Hey Ben! My name is Corey. You sound like a great guy. Your fanfiction where Han and Chewie evade a dozen bounty hunters by hiding in Rishi sounds like it would be a fascinating read. Any chance you could send me a link or let me see a copy sometime? Anyway I wanted to introduce myself and see if you'd be interested in talking more. A bit about me..."

I sat there, my brain barely registering the words on the screen in front of me. Someone actually read my ad? They read it well enough to actually comment on it?

After several seconds, I allowed a slight, cautious smile to creep across my face as I finished reading and thought about what I wanted to say to Corey in my reply.