Yes, yes I know... there's no such thing as an 'ex gay' ... and yes, I know lesbians fall in love with women, not men. But, it's a catchy title... and we both know that gay men and women DO play together... please let me know if you see yourself in my story.... ALL answered respectfully... please, no flames.






The coffee shop is fairly busy, but you've arrived early since your workplace is fairly close, and you chose the location. When you think about it, you shake your head... you're meeting a man for a possible romantic date ... since you've only ever fallen in love with women, you chuckle at the idea of a relationship with a man. Still, it's something you've wanted to consider, but only on your own terms. Hey, you're a top.
You've come from work, and have on the adornment of your office; you're a professional, and prefer pants suits, but when you want to feel more femme... a dress sometimes. Not often.


I arrive, and seem a little frazzled... you appreciate my full and wild head of salt and pepper hair, and the fact that it seems a rather unruly but interesting contrast with my shirt and tie. I sit down, we exchange hellos, and chat a little about work, professions, and our personal lives. You appreciate the fact that I seem rather masculine, not at all femme... I appreciate the fact that you're very educated, smart, and don't work on motorcyles all day.


I start to tell you a bit about being a closeted gay that got married to a woman, and had kids.... and that the whole 'urban life' thing never worked well for me, although I'd spent many hours in the clubs.... and you raise your hand to tell me to stop. You've heard it all before, and I'm relieved. I go on telling you about my life as a teacher, degrees I've earned, and start talking about progressive issues, income distribution and really geeky stuff like that... as I chat, you have a wan smile on ..... we're having a really good time, but you think I talk too much. You, like me, live a life very separate from the 'traditional' gay and lesbian bar circuit ... we both have had kids, and prefer our lives lived in our mainstream jobs, professions, or communities. I was never a drag queen, and you never owned a Harley. In fact, I consider myself generally bi, rather than strictly gay... you think that's a copout, but you don't tell me right away.


And like me, you've decided that what you want in a relationship might include the opposite sex this time... as long as you got your way ... But then, you're a top, and I'll always be a bottom... maybe that's why we'll get along.


You raise your finger to your lips, and motion me to stop talking. You get up and walk to the bathroom, beckoning me with your hand gestures. I follow you, and you close the door behind us. I'm curious, a little anxious, and somewhat excited.. You start to fumble with your purse.... and pull out a lipstick. "Hold still" you command, as you hold my chin with one hand, and apply the lipstick with the other. I gulp. This wasn't what I expected. You send me out of the bathroom, and say, "Wait for me at the table" ... deep rosebushes of embarassment fill my cheeks, and even show through my dark skin.


I wait at the table, hand over my mouth. I feel silly. After a while, you return. "Ok, my turn" you say, and tell me the story of your life, with no interruptions from me. You tell me that you're going to drive the relationship, and that intercourse is not even going to be discussed (I become deeply relieved), that you are not giving up women, and have a collection of strap-ons to rival the Good Vibrations museum in San Francisco (thank god, I think to myself)... you tell me we can work out the details, as our relationship grows, and I don't try to limit what you'll do. It's right now enough to talk about us, our lives, issues, our kids... other things can wait.


As we leave the cafe, I still have my hand over my mouth. "Kiss, dear" you say as you raise your hand. .... you smile as I obey, and giggle a bit at the idea of a relationship with me. You have some interesting images in your mind, but think to yourself... 'well, he's a gentleman... maybe it would work'..