So continuing on from
part 2
...The verdict? Not a good one. Michael was in his early thirties but looked a lot older than his years. He had an ear to ear beard that was low cut and reminded me the facial stylings of gay folk who call themselves bears. He also had a chubby face.
My mind was doing overtime. Was I being too harsh in my body language based the act that he was nothing like I expected to be, should I just go with the flow? I took a deep breath and suppressed my disappointment. So after some small talk and a Michael ordering himself a fish dish from room service, we were both sitting up on the bed over the comforter and Michael leaned in for a kiss.
The kiss totally caught me off guard, it was all tongue laced with one sided lust that I just wasn't feeling at all. To make things worse his kiss tasted of fish. The disappointment rose to the surface again and I knew what I had to do.
Pulling away from the kiss with an uncomfortable look on my face, I faced him and said "Look we can't do this, I'm just not feeling you like that" "What?" he replied. "Don't you even want to fuck me?", the desperation written all over his face.
I sat up on the bed, swivelling my feet to the ground and began to put my nikes on whilst Michael lay on the bed looking all defeated like the cat that had missed out on the cream.
"Mike, I think it best I just leave" I said in a somber tone. He nodded once. I gave him some dap and told him I'd text him when I got home and with that was out of the hotel and on the train home. I never did text and we haven't communicated since.
I'm a firm believer in never faking the funk, and not doing something if your soul isn't really in it.
