Polemically Correct & Co.

The contents of this blog are mine personally [sic] and do not reflect any position of a certain government or a certain organization.

[sjsorcerer-blog]

Shampain

Hold onto yer butts, lovelies, this one’s a doozy.

TW: Not entirely 100% consensual/emotionally healthy sex

So, remember the kinky guy I alluded to last time? The one I was looking forward to see what he was like? Well, today, against my better judgement (retroactively), I finally met up with him.

Mistake 1 My first equivocation was to keep talking to him after his opener of “Did you fuck yet?”

Mistake 2 Instead of sticking my stellar plan of do chores, read, eat, get groceries in the city, i decided to squeeze a hookup in before groceries.

Mistake 3 The instant, upon informing him I was on my way via taxi, that he responded, “Hope you don’t mind, I have a good friend over”–and I didn’t think anything was going to be up. You see, children, when a gay, who’s apparently “Full of milk” (Tener full leche), is actually looking forward to personally having sex with you, they generally want the two of you to be alone.

Mistake 4 I didn’t immediately demand to know why the friend was over.

Mistake 5 The moment I was shown through the door and the “good friend” was lying on the bed with his shirt off.

Mistake 6 Allowing the stilted smalltalk to continue instead of asking when the friend was gonna leave.

Mistake 7 After being assured the friend wasn’t an escort, not immediately walking out when said friend is instead presented as being part of the deal, in fact, “a gift for me”.

Mistake 8 Upon realizing the person I had come over to have sex with wasn’t actually going to be having sex with me, and would, don’t ya know, be playing the role of voyeur this afternoon, not telling the two of them to go fuck themselves.

Mistake 9 Giving it a shot.

Mistake 10 Upon finding out that his plan the entire time was to invite me over to watch his good friend fuck me, and that my consent was taken for granted, not calmly storming out.

Mistake 11 Continuing to give oral sex even though kinky-boy thought we were tight enough to whisper commands like “Deeper” so that I could fuck his friend real good. These commands were of course agreed upon between the two of them in Spanish, talking as if A) I wasn’t there and B) I didn’t fucking understand Spanish.

Mistake 12 Continuing said oral even when it became apparent fuck-boy’s sex ideals of ramming his dick down my throat didn’t match with my body’s ideal of shoving him the fuck off.

Mistake 13 Attempting to stealth negotiate the scene to more of my liking instead of walking the hell out.

Mistake 14 Not using the two’s illicit substance break (illicit at least in this nation) to make an exit.

Mistake 15 After being the only one to come (intentional, on my part, but only after wasting 45 minutes), laying abed for an additional 20 minutes, thereby (unintentionally) missing my window to get groceries before catching the bus back to site.

In sum, mistakes were made.

And what really causes me pain inside, the thing I really can’t stand, is that the only reason I was there for them was to be an exotic gringo. At one point, I heard a comment from kinky-boy to fuck-boy: “Gringos love nipple play”. That honestly killed any modicum of enjoyment I was experiencing from the hour and a half oral sex (did I mentioned I didn’t receive any head in return? Yeah, I was lucky to get a helping hand in the end).

I also foolishly thought I could magick things around to the better by cuddling with and calm stroking fuck-boy during a break. His only comment to kinky-boy? “I don’t think he’s going to want to [bottom for me] afterall”. NO fucking shit, fuck-boy.

And let’s not forget that a resonating note throughout the entire encounter was that fuck-boy wants to learn English and kinky-boy knows that I’m a English teacher, Yea, even though fuck-boy’s cute, he ain’t getting a lick of English help out of this gay… well, at least until he apologizes for his part in my dehumanization, in addition to an hour’s head/sex of retribution to that which he received.

Well, dearlings, here I sit, typing on my Bluetooth keyboard into my phone, having consumed a vodka-laced bottle of Orange-Pineapple juice (it’s quite the Hit in this country). I have intentions of meal-preping apple crisp for breakfast this week, super pumped. Commence apple breakfast dessert and coincidentally “Fuck It” mode.

Your queer with the social fear,

SJSorce’

[sjsorcerer-blog]

Sex, Sex, Sex (Yeah!)

Welcome back!

I knew you couldn’t keep away, you rascals. Ready for the juiciest blog post you’ve read from a [person] from [a certain organization] you’ve ever read? God bless it you are! It’s time to spill major sex-laden secrets Yours Truly has managed to wring out of [the country I’m currently living in] so far.

(For those of you uncomfortable with either the subject matter or the fact that I’m going straight to sex as my first real blog post, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies and suggest that maybe you don’t read it? Literally no one’s forcing you to read it. )

(Honestly, if you keep reading, it’s your own problem.)

Disclaimer: The following paragraphs contain mentions of queerness, Grindr, gay sex, men having sex with men, metaphorical depictions of gay sex, and texting.

(Last chance, Puritans~)

Grindr.

It’s international. If you got internet and a face like mine (read: white, blue eyes, brown hair, facial hair, generally patriarchy pretty), you’re pretty much set to drown in nearby man parts. Or at least genitals within an hour of travel. Luckily, this gay has only ever lived technically within city limits since he’s been in [said country].

When reading the Grindr profiles in my vicinity, and examining the types of conversations I’m having, it doesn’t seem that a lot of men are having as much sex as they’d like. This makes things slightly easier for me, due to the general lack of preferred fuckage gays are plagued with here.*

(*I never used Grindr back in [my home nation], so I don’t have a base to compare my findings to necessarily.)

Allow me to lay out the steps of how a gay gets laid here with Grindr, the genre of a [Country Name] Grindr Hook-Up, if you will:

1) Open conversation on the app.

2) Get person’s Whatsapp (a texting application used frequently here).

3) Text about how much each person wants sex with the other.

4) Sweeten the deal with nudes from each party.

5) After much wrangling, finally decide when and where the fucking can take place.

6) Meet up inconspicuously at an inconspicuous spot. Afterall, nobody around you can realize that two men are going to be touching each other’s genitals soon.

7) Get lost trying to find the particular “residency” that doesn’t have an issue serving gay patrons.

8) On way there, make sure to ignore all the stares about why a gringo is following a [nationality] man around on these city sidewalks.

9) Wait for future sex companion to whistle at the residency attendant through the barred door, you know, like a spy would do.

10) Marvel at the maritime brothel/colonial decor and architecture of the residency.

11) Purchase an hour worth of a room.

12) Fuck, obviously.

13) Exit Den of Good Repute trying not to make it obvious the two of you just had sex.

Now, this recipe may vary, for example, if you or your partner already have a private place for bumping each other’s uglies. However, you’ll soon find the above steps are commonly played out again and again by the queer male population of this city in this country.

That’s all for this week, faithful followers. Tune in next week to see if I actually get to bump my ugly on a kinky queer man with a heart of gold.

–Your Gay, the SJ Sorcerer.

[sjsorcerer-blog]

In Which Our Author is Introduced

Hello, darlings! You, yes, even you in the back!, are in for a inimitable ride of chills, thrills, and a disappointing lack of crossdressing scientists from space. Welcome to Polemically Correct & Co., the story of a young queer willingly thrusting himself out of his patria into the welcoming embrace of another nation, hoping to do something within a certain capacity with certain people under the auspice of a certain organization. As you might have already guessed from the description, this narrative is also somewhat of a mystery! This serves three purposes: A) It primarily keeps, you, the readers, tuning in every so often to try and see if you can't crack the case B) It prevents this blog from being easily findable by well meaning people who would no doubt be rather shocked to learn of "my condition" and C) I just like putting on mystique for the feel of it. In light of the mystery, I will obviously be employing false names and obfuscating descriptions of settings to preserve privacy and append an air of intrigue. The chapters, however, will be really real, the realest a la Iggy Australia real. So come up to the lab, and see what's on the slab... ...is how a pedestrian would end this intro. I, on the other hand, am going to end on a self-demonstrating act of meta-ness, like all the professionals do. -Your Guy, the Social Justice Sorcerer.