And Bacchus Wept

we were the gays in the background taking notes for our hopeful next encounter, I was wearing the tasteful red beanie 

Some gay men are confused.

They sleep with women and then realize they're homosexuals.

I, on the other hand, sleep with homosexuals who then realize they are into saggy old man balls.

Tis a blessing and a curse.

Or, just a weird form of entertainment via hindsight.

Of course, sleeping with younger men gives me a fresh perspective on this and since I am typically the younger man I can appreciate why this might be the case.

Younger men expect you to know what you're doing, to take control of the situation sexually and guide them through the process.

But if you're like me, and you're a lazy lover whose only ever slept with older men and allowed their foibles and sexual idiosyncrasies to dictate the sexual encounter, then this doesn't bode well for great sex.  

You both lay their, cock in hand, waiting for the other person to know what the fuck they're doing.

This is exhausting, confusing, and ultimately pointless since the whole affair ends with the both of you doing something you could have done alone  and without all the embarrassing half assed attempts at things you've seen in porn in between the beginning, all hot kissing, and the end, where you've got a crick in your neck and your jerking arm  has gone numb from laying on it while you attempted to achieve orgasm.

But this is, very nearly, the millionth ex-boyfriend I've reconnected with who has quite the fetish for saggy old man balls and jowls hanging lower than said balls. It's also the first time I've had sex with a nineteen year old while being a twenty six year old. I wouldn't recommend either.