Location: Berlin. Display Name: What is love?. About Me: Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me. Looking for: No more. Relationship Status: Single.
Remember how I was like: “I’m off dating apps – Yay!” Yeah well, I got weak, I’m human, bear with me. But it’s fine, feeling generally good about myself right now: Bought myself socks with pineapple print, my 4 pack recently became a 5 pack, coconut butter is my latest skin care discovery, and I established a new, successful flirting strategy. When you combine your tendency to creepily stare at someone with a subtle charming smile, and just keep on staring, through all the different stages of weird, creepy, lunatic, and serial killer, respective person of interest can’t help, but finding you kinda cute after all – Success rate: 85% so far. So, as you can see, life is good!
Why the Fuck Am I Single, Lesson #4
… But, the moment I feel like finding some kind of sexual balance, accepting singleness and just having some fun, there’s gonna be that one muscle hunk, sending me an invitation to naked bed wrestling, plus oily sample images, and yet again, I’m just very sexually confused. “So, you do that … in your bed?,” I ask, naively. “That – or we could meet at the club, and do it in the darkroom!” – Pause. No, being reminded of the fact that Berlin gay’s approach to sex generally has that tendency to weird me out, wrestling in bed ain’t enough, Mr. Muscle Hunk just had to remind me of that ultimate place, the incarnation of every man’s phantasy/non-phantasy, that end boss. So, do I wanna wrestle a dude in a darkroom now? I mean, he got nice abbs… Thoughts you have …
Friday – 16:00h – Friedrichshain
In need for third party opinions. Group Message. “You guys, any darkroom experiences here, and what’s your take on naked wrestling?” Respond Juan: “Once, or twice, met on the dance floor, did what we have to do, nothing fancy… wrestling though?!” Casper decides to not unleash his opinion on this subject matter and replies by: “Gonna keep on listening to Celine, byyye!”
Not that in all these years in Berlin I haven’t found my way to a darkroom, but I felt more like I’m running through an open enclosure at the zoo, realized I’m kinda afraid of the wild predators, and ran out again. So, I cannot really have an opinion, if I’ve never tried it, right? You also gotta make your own experiences. So, I did…
I was dancing at “that place where people dance on Sundays”, minding my own business, but then one thing led to another and Luc… Federico… Giovann… ”Italian-dude-works-in-a-museum-or-so-29” and I suddenly had to make choices: We could just share numbers, keep on, almost annoyingly, eating each other up on the dancefloor, or well, find another place. In a classic “Ok, fuck it” situation, we found our way to darker places…
Well, let’s just say, I am very much not vanilla, but this experience pretty amusingly exemplified why I just don’t get the whole rough, kinky, sex party thing. But, not necessarily out of sexual incomprehension, but more due to a lack of basic forms of convenience. So, first things first, and stating the obvious – but you guys, it’s so damn DARK?! I mean, even if I and Mr “Italo-29” had just met each other, I was still kinda into the visuals, you know. What’s the point if I can’t SEE any of the tools, I just snatched from the dance floor?
Even if it was brighter though, it’s still called between the sheets and not in between concrete and wooden benches. The only comfortable thing around was that sex swing, but this dude was hanging out there, legs wide apart, waiting for some penetration. – Does he do that every Sunday? I asked myself, But then I mean, some people play polo, and others… – And while I politely told that man, suddenly kneeling next to us, that he may not touch my genitals, our sexual desire was finished off once and for all by: The smell. Purely unspecifiable, just imagine how 13 years of sex smell like.
Go figure, our ruthlessly sexual experience did not have any climax. Don’t get me wrong though, I would have, and having people around is the least of my problems, ‘lil voyeurism never hurt nobody. But, why is this whole “Having sex in nightlife” thing build around places that have the sexual appeal of an operating room? Mostly, it’s gay men finding pleasure in that, latex, rubber, harness, and fisting gloves included. Fine, all good, you do you. But where’s my room?
Not that my demand will lead to some interior design changes in Berlin club spaces, but I’m also not asking for a lot here. No one wants a BRIGHT room, some indirect light maybe, lounges(?). I’m fine with wipeable surfaces. I have this feeling that room would be packed, and not only with gay men. And it would potentially even get me in the mood for some naked wrestling.