Gay male blind dating can be a real crap shoot, resulting in pleasure, humor, rejection, surprise, success, and/or defeat, whether initiated through an Internet dating service or referrals by friends. The motivation for engaging in blind dating can be curiosity, need, laziness, or a sense of adventure and for the bizarre. In this anthology of twelve gay male blind date stories, American author, habu, from the U.S. East Coast, and his Aussie coauthor, Sabb, now writing from southern Europe, have combined in their pen name Shabbu to explore and entertain with this form of hookup hunting. The two authors are compatible in writing style but are very different in their story styles, Sabb being more gentle, hopeful, and romantic with his characters and outcomes and habu being rougher and more cynical, graphic, visceral with his. But all of these stories, which provide highly varied settings, motivations, and unfolding, have one thing in common—they all culminate in a sexual hookup, something which, if participants are being honest, is the goal of blind dating but in far too many cases not the result. Three of the stories have previously been published in habu anthologies, but nine appear here for the first time.
Also available in paperback.
From “Ted and Zach’s Blind Date”
I realized at that point that these two guys were either meeting for the first time to do some sort of business or were on a blind date. If the latter, I thought, the religion issue should be enough to end the conversation and close out the date early—unless the white guy really wanted to be laid by a black stud, in which case they could fold up their tent now and get to it.
The “what do you see yourself doing in five years” question that next came up made me think they were strangers considering doing business together, and I was intrigued enough—and bored enough and at loose ends enough—to order another beer when the waitress came with my tab. The “five years” question was one I associated with dating, but the black guy responded in terms of business. He said he was a stock broker and hoped to have his own branch of his firm within the five years. The white guy, who was referred to as Ted, was still in college but also was a private high school—the Baptists again, apparently—gym assistant teacher. He saw himself as a vice principal in that time.
He also saw himself settled down in a steady relationship by then.
Then it became evident that the meeting wasn’t about business.
“Oh, I don’t think I will be,” Zack, the black guy said. “Five years from now I think I’ll still be moving around. I like to experience what there is out there—variety. Different kinds of guys, cruising like me, but they have to be fit.”
There was a bit of silence here and Zack picked up the conversation. “The gym angle was what caught my eye. And your age. I like dating younger guys. You look like you’re in great shape, and you walked loose, like you’re really flexible. I like that. You look like a gymnast.”
“You’re built too—more so than I am,” Ted answered. “You must spend half your free time in the gym. You’ve got great guns and definition.”
I’d noticed that too when I’d glanced at the black guy. He was dressed conservatively enough, but the way his clothes fit him accentuated his cut musculature. There was no surprise he’d played football in college.
“I am a gymnast,” Ted continued. “I took the fifth year at Temple to help the varsity team.”
“Bet you can do the splits all the way down,” Zack said, to which Ted answered in the affirmative.
I was really interested in the conversation now. First, obviously this was a blind date and the two were feeling each other out. They were gay. They were my kind of men. That piqued my interest right there. Beyond that, I was a gymnast too—but at U. Penn, so I didn’t recognize this guy. Temple wasn’t on U. Penn’s level. And, I thought with a bit of bravado, I probably could do the splits all the way down better than this Temple guy could.
My beer was half down, but I decided to nurse it. These guys were getting into more intimate talk, and maybe I’d find it arousing. My date with Josh was supposed to have ended in bed, and even if we were having a rough time in our relationship, I still was in the need of a fuck. Josh could be upset with me and still fuck me. It might even make the fuck more exciting.
“A gym teacher in a private school, eh. I guess that means you aren’t out yet.”
“No. You?”
“Sure. I think it makes me more interesting. It certainly makes cruising easier. So, was the file right? You like to take cock?”
I nearly choked on the swig of beer I was drinking when he said that.
A bit of silence preceded Ted’s response. “Well, I’ve done it both ways.”
“I only give cock,” Zack answered. “I think it said that on my profile.”
“Yes, it does,” Ted answered.
I felt a little warm at that—at Zack’s part of the discussion becoming pretty bald. I’ll take your cock, I thought, feeling the buzz of the second beer. I found that my hand had gone to my crotch and that it had found more than the usual mounding there. No way I was going anywhere as long as this conversation was spinning out.
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