Ugh. Some old mates of mine decided to have a reunion in the village where we grew up. To be honest, I’d rather get teeth pulled, but I admit that I’ve got a chip on my shoulder. We used to all mess around together back in the day, but they probably forget that they were not exactly easy on me. We all teased each other, but they saved a special kind of cruelty just for me. Truth is, they probably sensed something in me long before I did. You see, I’m bisexual. I’m also pretty much still in the closet about it.
Being bi is probably a bit easier than being gay when you’re younger, because you just date girls and get on with it. But as you get older and start to come to terms with it, it can get pretty rough. Neither gays nor straights really want or understand you and both think you’re being dishonest and greedy. I happen to find some guys hot. I also happen to find some girls hot. I’m not sure why everyone has such a problem with it, but they certainly have made it a problem for me.
So, I’ve stayed single. It’s easier that way. I stay in the closet with partners of both sexes and, because, I don’t stick around for long, it never becomes an issue. Don’t judge. I practice safe sex and don’t hurt anyone’s feelings. I have a great career, earn decent money, have a nice flat in London and I have found a way to enjoy my life. I’m fit and I scrub up well, so I don’t have problems pulling when I want to. I’m still young. It’s all good.
Then this bloody invite arrived. At first, I was just going to throw it in the bin, but then my old resentments crept up on me. So did old anxieties. I had a few sleepless nights remembering slights but I also found myself remembering the fun we used to have. It’s been 15 years since I last saw most of these guys. I left the village when I was 18 and never looked back really. My parents have retired in Spain, so I have no need to go back there.
With only a week to go before the reunion, I responded to the ‘event’ they’d set up on social media. I said I’d be there. I looked through all their profiles. Some had families. Some had girlfriends. None of them were single. I started to panic thinking about the questions they’d be asking when I turned up alone and the assumptions they’d make. I really did not want to give them a reason to start giving me a hard time. That’s when a light bulb went off in my head. I need a girlfriend. Not just any girlfriend. I need a really hot girlfriend who will make them all shut the hell up.
I spent the next evening doing some research. The best resource I found was an escort agency called Cleopatra. There are quite a few websites for escort services but this one just seemed to stand out. Everything about it seems professional and transparent. And, well, the ladies. I was like a kid in a candy shop looking through the gallery. I decided that a girl with a Eastern European accent might be a giveaway or raise some eyebrows, but a girl from Germany seemed naughty and fun – two things I happen to like very much anyway.
Booking was easy. I explained my situation and it almost felt like I had enthusiastic co-conspirators helping me to plan. For me, it just made it all the more exciting. I met my date at a restaurant in Central London, where we had lunch and I talked to her about my plan. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, but she was totally into it. I don’t think I could have had a better date with anyone really. She was brilliant and we had such a laugh. All my mates spent the evening pissing off their own girlfriends and wives because they couldn’t their eyes off of her.
We told everyone we had been dating for a month and spent most of the evening snogging in the corner. We left before my mates got sloppy drunk and embarrassing and headed off to the hotel I’d booked at a nearby town. It was a sumptuous room and I was feeling a little bit amorous. People tend to forget that bisexual men are, just that, bisexual. I’d like to think that it makes me twice as sexy. Haha. Anyway, I made sure that I made the most out of this evening. Everything had gone to plan. My old mates couldn’t say enough nice things and, to be honest, looking at them now, I’m so much happier and more successful than any of them are.
We fell through the door laughing our heads off, remembering the looks on everyone’s face when we walked into the pub and we just sort of kept falling. Right onto the bed. That’s where we remained for the next 12 hours and we didn’t get very much sleep. I’ve never enjoyed a date with an escort before, but with my current lack of desire for commitment combined with my current intense desire for intimate companionship, I know that this is an indulgence I plan to invest in regularly. Oh – and German girls are hot!