A Moment (A)Side: When Outercourse Is Hotter than Penetration

A bate sesh can be surprisingly intimate.

Read about my first three Island House shenanigans here, here, and here!

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Illustration by Lex Mason

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I never expect to emotionally connect with a stranger after a casual hookup, to have him in my life for longer than the twelve minutes it took us both to climax. If we said no more than twenty words on Grindr before you came over without underwear—to minimize the awkward downtime between entering my apartment and having my cock inside you—then why are we talking now? The goal of our encounter was to get our rocks off, and we succeeded. Having fulfilled our mission, we can now amicably part ways.

But once in a while, after a particularly steamy session, I find myself lying in a pile of sweat with my torso covered in cum. Too tired to move, too lazy to wash off the sticky semen, we end up talking. My defenses are down, overrun by surges of oxytocin and prolactin. I’m a little more open, more honest, less afraid of being judged.

I live for these moments, these unexpected connections that surpass the physical—that are filled with raw intimacy.

I had quite a few of these moments at Island House, one with a shaven-headed man, Lars. He was half of a couple visiting from Norway. His husband had the gigantic cock I had sucked the day prior, the cock that caused me to fire a viscous load all over the video room.

After two encounters (both involving other men), Lars and I found ourselves chatting by the pool deck as the hot Floridian sun, unobscured by clouds, beat down on our sunscreen-slathered bodies.

Lars was as inquisitive as he was knowledgeable, the former contributing to the latter. He possessed an international wisdom often seen in Europeans, contrasting my myopic American worldview. I liked being around him, naked, and learning from him.

After frying on the balcony, my skin was crispy like a Thanksgiving turkey. I needed an AC and a soft mattress. I asked if Lars would like to join me in my room. I didn’t need to specify what for; we both knew.

We lay in bed on our sides, under the covers, our bodies pressed against one another, our legs interwoven like two vines. I started to kiss Lars’ body, starting at his chest. I gently sucked his nipple before giving it a lick. I then worked my way up his body, kissing his upper pec, clavicle, and muscular neck. I moved my mouth across his jawline until my lips finally reached his. We kissed as if we had countless times before—an effortless erotic ease.