opinion

Single & Fabulous? | 'One-night stands: My, how you've changed'

After deciding to ditch the apps, Anthony Gilét rediscovers the world of drunken one-night stands.

2019-04-10

I woke up on a bed of clouds. I wasn’t emotionally attached or anything, it was just genuinely the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. I was actually tempted to enter a long-term relationship with the man just for his linen.

And as I rolled over for an afternoon spoon, I realised the bed was not only soft, and luxurious, but also… empty. I could hear noises coming from the kitchen, and pondered whether a man who had sheets of heaven, in a central Soho apartment, and made breakfast in bed was worth considering for more than just one night.

Most of us can look back on the days of our frivolous one-night stands and shudder - albeit with a fond nostalgia toward our younger, care-free selves. But they'd become relatively obsolete - for me at least - because apps had transformed how casual sex is obtained.

But after deleting them at the start of the year in an bid to meet more men - and more importantly, authentic ones - in person, perhaps they were back on the table. Or rather, mattress. Casual sex was obviously not the end goal, but if I was to wait until I was dating a guy to have sex, I’d have forgotten how to do it by then.

I’d been at friend’s bottomless birthday dinner with the civilised intentions of going straight to bed afterwards, when I received that ‘what are you doing tonight?’ text, from that wildly persuasive friend with an Amex card.

He met me at the restaurant and we got a taxi to the nearest gay club. It was a relatively nondescript evening, and was waiting for my friends to leave when he approached me; a well-dressed guy who hadn’t let his height affect his confidence.

“So do you wanna come back to my place?”

It was as blunt as it sounds, and although not entirely out of the blue, we’d not spoken for more than a minute inside. He was attractive, as most men with facial hair covering half their faces are, but wasn’t the whole point of ditching Grindr that I knew a man a bit better (his name at the very least) before entering into awkward sexual encounters?

My rational brain told me to decline what it believed would ultimately be a drunken, unfulfilling experience, while my irrational and horny crotch reminded me that drunk sex is amazing, and instructed me to throw my knickers in the Thames and get in his Uber. So I did, because tequila trumps logic.

I vaguely remember him offering me some MDMA, which I declined, because… well, this wasn’t Glastonbury 2011. Besides, when it comes to gurning, chewing your eyebrow off is one thing - chewing someone’s cock off is another.

Eventually we began kissing, before undressing, and then fooling around on the sofa. And as I stared at his penis which remained in a permanent state of semi-erection, I was reminded of one more reason why MDMA wasn’t a great idea.

We moved to the bedroom for more comfort, and comfort it was. Unfortunately, even his silky sheets couldn’t save his softie, and after a few minutes our flip-fuck turned into a flop-fuck. Over it, I allowed myself to melt into his mattress and fall asleep at narcoleptic-speed.

When I woke up to the light banging of cupboards, I was instantly touched by the gesture of breakfast; mostly because I’m a raging cunt when I’m hangry. I got out of bed and prepared to emerge in the doorway in one of his shirts looking like an afternoon snack; which would have been cute if it wasn’t two sizes too small for me.

Sauntering into the living room, I gasped as two naked bodies lept to cover themselves. Turns out my wake-up call wasn’t my host banging cupboard doors, but rather another man on his sofa. Clearly he had an appetite for more than just breakfast; talk about having your sausage and eating it too.

I may have deleted Grindr, but clearly my date hadn’t.

I desperately tried not erupt into fits of laughter, and then hid in his room while my phone charged. He scurried in to ask if I was OK, and if he could… see me again?!  

I told him I’d check the diary I don’t have.

The premise of one-night stands may not have changed much over the last decade, but attitudes towards casual sex certainly had. 10 years ago, one might have felt adventurous going home with someone they just met, but apparently the male sexual appetite had grown to devour as much as it could.

And if you thought the walk of shame was cringe-worthy you’ve obviously never collected your clothes off the floor while the guy you came home with performs felatio on someone else.

Anthony Gilét is a London-based writer, blogger and YouTuber – follow him on Twitter and Instagram.

To read more from the Single & Fabulous? series click here.