Me & Mr C

Can a man really change? I find myself asking myself this question today. Usually my gut reaction is to say no, absolutely not. You are more likely to have a a string quartet playing a symphony to sold out audiences in your rectum than that ever happening. But today I wonder if maybe just maybe a man can change, maybe he can stop playing games, treating you like a puppet on a string and finally let you into his life after years of letting you down?

Mr C and I go back about 4 years now. I met him in my local gay bar in Islington, exactly one week after my previous boyfriend had unceremoniously dumped me, by emptying out my flat and doing a runner while I was shopping. It had been a very turbulent relationship, and whilst I was absolutely crushed about the end of it, it was more the fact that I had put up with so much during my time with Tinker (a man who had repeatedly cheated on me, sunk me thousands of pounds into debt, manipulated me, preyed on my vulnerabilities) that I was REALLY devastated about. I should have been the one to end it not him. So I decided I would go out and find me a man. We all know that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else so, fuelled by a couple of cans of Strongbow cider (for Dutch courage of course) I went to the local Homo haunt. This was the night that I met Mr C. He was with a group of people and one of them invited me over. They were all your average local gays, all seemed to have have slept with the bar staff, they called each other 'Dear' and most of them were a good 30- 100 lbs over weight with bald heads and ill fitting jeans. But Mr C was a cut above the rest. He was very attractive, and very stylish for an older guy. I put his age at about 37. At my almost ripe 23 he was an older guy.

They welcomed me into their group, bought me drinks and showered me with attention. I was having a great time, and Tinker was the furthest thing from my mind. I was having such fun and found myself completely high on the feeling that everyone was interested in me. Each one of them was trying to get me into bed and I was really enjoying leading them on and making them think they were in with a chance. The only one who wasn't making a play for me was Mr C. I kept trying to engage in conversations with him but he was quite stand offish. Fortunately enough for me, I wasn't drunk enough to lose my inhibitions, so played it cool. However, I was so drawn to him, and the way he kept looking at me suggested he was attracted to me. I couldn't work it out. I went to the toilet and as I was coming out Mr C came in. He didn't go to use the toilet but instead pushed me against the wall and kissed me. It was the most passionate kiss I had ever had and it told me everything I needed to know. It was soft and hard all at the same time, and he pulled me closer to him by my head whilst we kissed. It is the closet to having a dry orgasm I had ever been. He asked for my number, which I gave him, and he said that maybe we could go for a drink sometime. 'Yes, I'd like that' I replied as seductively as I could.

We didn't sleep together that night but a few days later, Mr C called and arranged a date. I am embarrassed to say when I put the phone down I jumped for joy. I hadn't been able to get our kiss out of my mind, and I just had to find out what another one of them could lead to. He arrived on time and was even more devastating handsome then I had remembered. I wondered if he was out of my league. I had never been on a date with someone so sexy. He became even more desirable when I discovered he was a plumber. The idea of him in overalls immediately sprang to mind and it wasn't long before I had to go to the toilet and readjust myself.

The date was going well. Mr C was funny and charming, and I was becoming dangerously attracted to him. I had to have him. I feared if I didn't make a move I might lose my chance to sleep with the most attractive man I had ever been on a date with. I decided to be upfront and ask if he fancied coming back to mine to finish that kiss. The Gods, or should I say the Fairies must have been looking down because he said he thought I'd never ask.

I won't go in to detail, as I have never really been one to shag then shout, but lets just say, Mr C was amazing. The best sex I had ever had. I was convinced he must be a wonderful plumber by day, because he certainly knew his way around pipes in the bedroom. As I lay there, post the best orgasm of my life something odd happened. Mr C got up from my bed and began putting his clothes on, and started mumbling something about how he had to be up really early. I felt cheap. I had known that it would probably just be a sexual encounter, but I had never counted on just how awful I would feel once it happened. I was prepared for the fact that after any extreme high there is certain to be an extreme low. I just assumed it would be tomorrow morning when he left. Not twenty seconds after having sex. At this point, the only sexual experiences I'd had, were with boyfriends. I had never had a one night stand, but was pretty sure that a one night stand meant that both parties were obligated to stay for one night? It all happened so quickly and before I knew it, Mr C kissed me and said he's give me a call soon.

This is pretty much how our relationship, if you can call it that continued for the next 2 years. It turned out that Mr C was in a relationship which he claimed to be profusely unhappy in. He told me they were living separate lives, didn't communicate, never had sex and he wanted to get out to start a new life with me. The oldest story in the book. Unfortunately as has been an inherent problem my whole life, I believed him. I trusted him. I became 'the other woman' a role I had always promised myself I would never act. But suddenly I found myself in the lead part of An Affair to Remember.

Except there wasn't really anything to remember. We would meet up every few weeks, have some drinks, ocassionally dinner, go back to mine, have sex and then he would leave. He never invited to to his place, and I never even knew where he lived. But even this wasn't enough to make me see sense, I was in love, and Mr C assured me it wasn't unrequited. He led me to believe we would one day be together...............

Four years down the line, and after quite a lot of turbulence, we are just friends. It is definitely not sexual. I think that Mr C is actually destined to be in my life, and maybe we needed to go through what we did in order to come out the other end as friends. Sometimes people come into your life and we are far too quick to categorize then by putting them into the wrong box. Maybe I put Mr C into the "Boyfriend" box, when I should have put him into the "Friend" box?

But, it seems that he is changing. When we make an arrangement to meet, he never cancels, he hasn't stood me up and he is not in a relationship anymore. The biggest change of all is this. Tonight I am going over to his place in Crouch End for dinner. So, maybe a man can change?