I didn't hear from Mors again for quite sometime after I stuffed up our first date. I was really hard on myself, and my friends noticed my drop in mood once again. They tried to uplift it by getting me drunk and taking me to a club.
I did enjoy it and I seemed to garner the interest of a beautiful brown haired, brown- eyed, twenty - something twink. We ended up in the toilet, an alcoholic induced, sloppy kiss fest followed.
He had me against a wall, his hands fumbled with my zipper, then my underwear, even with his lips around my cock, his warm saliva covering it, I couldn't get hard. He tried the best he could, but nothing happened.
He left the toilet offended. He ignored my attempts at apologising and trying to reassure him that it had nothing to do with his appearance or him as a person but that it was all me. I tucked myself in, fumbled with my zip, I had enough and wanted to go home. So I said a quick goodbye to my friends then went home.
I had never experienced performance problems before. I knew it was because of Mors. He filled my mind when I was in the toilet with the cute twink, I tried to push him out but It didnt happen. That beautiful boy back there at the club would probably be in my bed right now, and I would be enjoying his company if only I had managed to be successful in forgetting Mors.
For the next few weeks I wallowed in self pity and disappointment about the that night.
One day, my phone suddenly started vibrating loudly, startling me. I cautiously peaked at my phone from under my blankets, as it continued to flash and vibrate on my bedside table. It was Mors. I resisted the temptation to ignore his call. I answered and again found myself agreeing to dinner that night.
As he did in the past, he arrived to pick me up in his silver camry right on seven o clock. At least this time I had plenty of time to get ready as it was a saturday. As usual he barely spoke or looked at me. I was getting frustrated and confused by his behaviour toward me. Did he like me or did he not? If he didn't, why was he even bothering to waste time with me?
As we ate our dinner, it seemed he was picking up on my annoyance and frustration with him.
"What's bothering you tonight, Roku? He asked
" Are you actually interested in me, Mors? Or am I wasting my time having dinner with you, again? " I replied with a snarky tone to my voice.
He looked at me like a hurt puppy.
"What makes you think I'm not interested in you, Roku?"
" When I tried to kiss you on our first date, you avoided my kiss like you were repelled by me. Then it took you such a long time to contact me and ask me on a second date."
Mors paused, before replying.
" There's things about me, that I don't wish to reveal to you, at the present time. It's not because I don't trust you, it's just that I don't know you well enough to gauge how you'd react if I told you so early on. Because of these things, It is difficult for me to have personal contact with others or show affection through physical touch. But If I wasn't interested In you romantically, we wouldn't be here, having our second date. Are you interested in me Roku? "
A lump formed in my throat, I felt horrible being upset with him for not kissing me. I also started thinking of the worst-case scenario's that could've happened to him in his past to make him unable to show and recieve affection through physical means.
I was so caught up in feeling guilty that I forgot to answer his question. He didn't ask me again.
We were still going on dates six months later. Throughout this entire time, he didn't meet my friend's nor did he open up to me about his past. I wanted to kiss him, to hold his hand, to embrace him and yeah, I wanted to make love to him. I wanted to be able to do things normal couple's would do together.