Conversations For Crowded Parties

Last weekend, I went with some friends to a house party in Brooklyn. At the party, my friend and I struck up a conversation with a girl, who started telling us about her gay friend's sexual exploits. Just a quick head's up, if youre bothered by reading stuff about this, you should probably just close this window now and go pray for your soul. Okay, you've been warned.



My friend and I have been saying for awhile that we'd like to have a gay friend, who would openly discuss his sex life in the kind of detail normally reserved for drunken fraternity boasting or autopsy findings. For some reason, we think this would be fantastic.



I asked the girl at the party if her gay buddy could be that guy for us. She said that he's usually shy and that you have to "get 'em going." I mention this, because it's not the first time that I've heard the expression "get 'em going" refer to chatty gay men. My dad is in his seventies and a few months ago he saw his first episode of Will & Grace. He told me how funny he thought it was, especially "once you get that little queer fella going, he's a riot. You gotta get 'em going, though."

Questionable terminology aside (he didn't mean anything by it) why do gay guys have to "get going" in order to be found amusing by us straight people. What does that mean? How do we "get 'em going" in the first place? According to this girl at the party, the answer is simple: Alcohol.



She began relate to us a story that her buddy had told her. This will be detailed. Apparently Fred (made up name) was banging some guy in the ass. He comes. He then sucked the semen out of this guy's ass and proceeded to spit it into his mouth. Now this moment was awkward for two reasons. The first being the fact that her voice for no apparent reason increased in volume as she told the story, and the second being the particularly untimely arrival of my wife into our little circle. Any married guy knows that if your wife joins a conversation you're having with another woman and hears something like the phrase "spit the load back into his mouth," you're going to have to answer a lot of questions. And trust me on this: When you explain that both participants in the story were guys, you'll only have more questions to answer.





Now, I've heard of this particular behavior before, and various terms to describe it from felching to shrimping. It doesn't gross me out. I don't gag, scream or run away. Frankly, the strange things people do - strange though they may seem to me - tend to interest me. Mind you, after hearing the story, I'm not begging for a tall glass of egg whites, but I'm fine. The other people who were listening in to story were not. In fact a loud cry went up and people scattered from us like we'd just pulled out a gun or started talking about Jesus.



My first reaction to this story was 2 thoughts:

First, I want to know if this activity is planned in advance, or a spur of the moment thing. Did something just come over Fred (pun intended) and he felt he had to get back in there and bring his load back? Or was the other guy eagerly awaiting phase 2 of their evening from the beginning?



Secondly, why? Why do this? In my experience and in the experiences of most guys I've talked to, when we climax, sex is over. I'll tell you right now that after I'm done I don't have the energy for something like this. I have about 6-8 seconds to get my immediate affairs in order before I'm out like a fucking light. And once out, I can't be revived. It's over. But for Fred and his friend, climax seems to be only the beginning for them. Cleary they're wired differently than I am - in more ways than one - but I can't help but wonder if both guys truly enjoy this act.



I'm personally of the opinion that when something leaves my body (be it piss, shit, sweat, semen, hair, wax, snot, nail clippings, etc) I'm done with it. I don't want it back. I flush it away, throw it in the trash or stick it to the underside of my wife's pillow like a normal person. This is especially true of anything that leaves from below my waiste. I find nothing sexual in piss or shit. NOTHING. I'd like to think I'm in the majority here, but popular internet searches indicate I might not be so lucky. When something leaves my body, it's gone and I'm done with it. And it's not just because it was in a guy, either. If Megan Fox or Jessica Biel asked me to do this I would still say no.



I feel like this relates back to an earlier debate my friend and I have been having for years. I maintain that even if I was flexible enough to orally satisfy myself, I would NOT do it. I wouldn't even consider it. No way. Not happening. My friend disagrees and insists that not only would he do it, but of course I would as well. My answer is simple: I don't want a penis in my mouth. I have no problem with people who do. God bless them. But I don't. Any more than I want to eat shellfish or look at Sarah Jessica Parker. My friend's response is logical and generally ends the debate whenever we have it. He says "well, you don't want a dick in your hand either. But you sure as hell do that all the time." Of course he's right, but there's a fundamental difference between your hand and your mouth. If you don't believe that then I really can't do much for you.





For various reasons, not a lot of people talked to me for the rest of night. A few hours of solitary drinking later, I found myself again talking to this girl. She had another story about Fred, who apparently will on occasion sleep with girls. Where he finds them is beyond me. This story will have to wait for another time, but suffice to say, if you ever find yourself in bed with a woman and you realize the sheets on her bed are made of rubber - get the fuck out of there.