Beauty and the Kinky Beast
Scottie trades on the dark side of probable-infidelity and definite kink.
“I’ve no idea what to do. At all.” My friend sounded worried, but then we both burst into laughter.
My friend Mark just admitted that he was fit to explode from the sexual tension he was feeling between himself and a friend. The problem, though, was that Mark technically wasn’t single … kind of. He had been dating a guy for about a month, who seemed nice but wasn’t exactly exciting him in all departments. The other guy, however, was proving irresistible to Mark.
“Well, look,” I announced, like a judge. “You’ll have to break up with the other guy before you do anything.”
“That might be a problem,” Mark replied, biting his lip.
“Why? … Oh, you didn’t.”
“I did.” He bit down on his lip harder.
“When?” I wanted to sound disappointed in him for what he was only confirming in body language, but my smirk broke the illusion.
“The other night, after the house party … Look, technically I’m not in a relationship. I was only dating someone. ‘Dating’ implies that it isn’t exclusive.”
“True,” I acknowledged, “but ‘dating’ also suggests that you’re not intending to mess around.”
“Well, I’m getting rid of him tomorrow, anyway,” Mark announced, ignoring what I had just said. I took his intentions at face value, knowing that I couldn’t scold him too much.
“But it was hot,” he continued, irking out the gossip in me. “I mean … really hot.”
“How hot?”
Mark turned to look straight at me, raised an eyebrow, then put his hand up to his neck – and grabbed it.
“Wow, that hot…”
“I didn’t even tell him I liked it like that,” he exclaimed, becoming more giddy. “I didn’t have to say anything, but it was like he just knew what I liked. He seemed to like what I was doing, too!”
We both burst out into giddy laughter. I usually prided myself on being mature and adult about most topics, but I felt we were entitled to let our hair down and act like gossipy schoolgirls every now and again.
“So hold on,” I said, interrupting the laughter. “If you’re dumping what’shisface, and the sex was hot with this other guy, where’s the problem?”
Mark looked down at his drink.
“I dunno… I mean, we seem to really like each other… but you know me; I rarely do ‘romance’.”
This was true. Mark’s idea of quality time was to get horrifically drunk and end up lost in Vauxhall. Romantic stereotypes were lost on him, and anyone who tried to be sweet usually got a reaction that resembled a scene from Psycho.
“But what about him,” I said. “He’s one of those ‘gaymer,’ nerdish, cub types. Maybe he’s not into candlelit dinners and rose petals, either.”
“He’s not,” Mark replied, “and that’s what worries me, it’s too good. I can’t foresee any flaw.”
“Don’t say that,” I warned, “or you’ll find one all too quickly.”
About a week passed by, and then Mark and I arranged to go meet up on Saturday for a night on the town. We were going to do the works; a comedy drag show, drinks, clubbing and kebabs. I met him in the city, and after our hellos and hugs, he made his announcement.
“I did it!”
“What, you dumped the other lad?”
“Yep, he’s gone,” Mark was delighted with himself. “And, I’ve got a date with you-know-who next Wednesday.”
“Go you! You sure you’re able for a date, Casanova? He might turn out to be a complete softie and break this bad-boy image you have of him!”
“Nah, that won’t happen,” Mark dismissed. “I’ve known him for too long. That’s kinda what’s worrying me.”
“What, that you can’t have those first date chats because you already know about him?”
“No,” he replied, “more that I don’t know if he’s in that ‘friend’ category.”
“He wasn’t in that friend category when he was choking you in bed,” I reminded him, making him blush.
“True … yeah, I’m just nervous, I guess.”
“Don’t worry,” I replied. “Considering you’ve already slept together, maybe you can both talk about which positions you like best. That’s one way of getting to know him!”
“Maybe we’ll just skip the coffee,” he joked.
The whole thing made me wonder, though. (Yes, dear reader, prepare yourself for my Carrie Bradshaw moment of the week. Deal with it.) Can you expect a guy whose shirt you want to rip off with your teeth to be the same guy who you want to cuddle into in the cinema? In other words, do you have to choose between passion or romance? Ideally, no, but it’s a rare find if you come across a guy who evokes both lust and love in you…
…isn’t it?
[To read the previous instalment of Scott’s column, click here.]
‘Scottie’ Illustrations by Stephen Charlick
