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Gay Life: The Paulinator – Hot and Bothered

Posted Saturday, August 1st, 2009 at 3:33 pm by paul in Social Bees. More in 10014

Excuse me everyone, the Paulinator has something to say, I’m currently hot and bothered and not the Urban Dictionary‘s definition: To become sexually aroused to the point where you are unable to think clearly. I literally am hot and bothered! The weather here in the city, while I enjoy ten times more than the bitter cold, has turn the city into one large sweat shop and I’m not even getting paid pennies. I enjoy sweating up a storm at the gym but feeling the beads of sweat form on my forehead as I wait for the subway, just are not cute on anyone! Sadly, there really isn’t anything I can do about the heat, so I’m moving on to the bothered part…

With such an active sex life how you must be asking yourself, what on earth has got me so bothered. Well, it is precisely that. I will be the first to admit I have slipped into a bit of a sexual slump. I am not sure how it happened, but I know the last time I had a really good sexual experience was several months ago. Now, if you were to see me on the street, you’d notice my neck is all marked up with hickeys. Yes, like the hickeys that you got in the seventh grade. So why does this not count for a really good sexual experience? Let me introduce you to The  Conservative.

Granted, I write this column anonymously, but I am pretty liberal when I discuss my sexual conquests with my gal pals and fellow gays. I also am for the most party fairly willing to push the envelop in the bedroom (or bathroom, kitchen, living room, taxi) as long as all parties involved are being safe and responsible. This past weekend I met The Conservative at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Chalk it up to a lack of sex on a regular basis, I decided he would be my conquest for the night. Traditionally he would not be my type, but unfortunately since there has been a drought lately, I’ll take any chance for rain I can get.

I found out he was on the conservative side when all my attempts at public displays of affection were not as enthusiastically received as I would have liked.  He did enjoy the make out sessions and at one point was willing to slip away into the bathroom with me, but quickly had a change of mind regarding a quickie there. Regardless of his attempts to avoid any kind of PDA, he still managed to invite me back to his place in Hell’s Kitchen. I guess he felt more comfortable in his domain. And boy did he feel more comfortable, it was like a whole new man entirely that I went home with, except I was starting to sober up and realize he wasn’t my type.

Here’s the problem I’ve been having with guys as of late. Like Carrie from Sex and the City, I have my own Mr. Big, and we here at neighborbee affectionately refer to him as Hot Bartender. With one date under our belts, a couple of kisses and no actual sex, I don’t understand how every guy I go home with automatically gets compared to Hot Bartender.  With The Conservative, all I could think about while he was giving me hickey after hickey, was “he’s not Hot Bartender.”

My sexual slump seems to be my own doing. Until I break free of this Hot Bartender curse I’m under, I’m afraid my sex life might very well be doomed. Good thing he’s working tonight, I think I’ve got an idea how to rectify this situation!

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