There are guys we hit up on the hook-up sites, or phone apps and guys that hit us up. And I’m talking now in a sexual way – not to chit chat or be a virtual buddy. But how should you handle an unsolicited hit, what those in retail would label a “cold call”?
First, just like a guy has no obligation to respond to your cold call, you have no obligation to respond to his. And a lot depends on the type of cold call he makes.
There’s the non-specific grope, smile, fart, or those canned auto responses some of the sites offer like “You’re sexy,” “Woof, ” “Grr,” “Hot Pictures,” “I Like You! (big fucken deal)” or a “private pics opened” kind of hit. Or he starts with “Hi.” Hi, what? Either the guy’s too shy, too intimidated or too fragile in the ego department to just spit it out and say he thinks you’re hot and wants to suck your dick or get fucked by you or, if he’s opening his privates, he may just be a exhibitionist who’s looking for an ego spike from you, i.e., “Thanks for opening your privates. Hot pics!”
Unless the guy looks interesting to me and most of the time only if he’s a townie or says in his profile he’s visiting Lauderdale, I don’t respond at all. What’s the fucken point? As much as I enjoy a guy in Hong Kong telling me I’m hot, haven’t people got better things to do with their time than sit for hours at a pc or fucking around on the phone apps which are especially great for that, shouting out virtual ego massages to guys they’ll never see?
Another good reason not to respond is that it can lead to an extended string of e-mails, increasingly more erotic because what the guy really wants to do is get off chatting with you. Hey, on a rare occasion, like a Tuesday night and I can’t get to sleep and need a bedtime sedative like a good cum, I’ll pick up on his dirty talk and relieve myself too. But most times it’s a waste of keystrokes.
But again, if there’s a smidgen of hope he and I might be able to press some flesh – he lives five miles from you or is in town from Baltimore – I’ll reply with a “thanks for the pics, (or grope, or smile or fart), you’re looking good yourself,” and see if he picks up on my cue. Eight out ten times he doesn’t and that’s the end of our little tête-à-tête.
Then there are the direct hits, the hits that don’t beat around the bush. “Shit, you’re hot!” or or even better, “Hey, hot man, love to hook up,” and if he’s an out-of-towner, he even gives you the dates and hotel he’ll be staying at. Now that’s what I wanna hear from a guy. That he’s hungry and serious.
These kind of hits you need to handle delicately, so as not to lead the guy on if you’re not interested; or blow him off if you are. If he’s not wetting your whistle, it’s best not to respond at all, or respond with a simple “thanks;” there’s no point starting something you know isn’t gonna anywhere.
But if your cock is beginning to stir as you study his pics like some art student at the Louvre, you should reply in a welcoming, semi-erotic kind of way, like “thanks buddy, you’re looking pretty hot yourself. So when might you have some time for me?” and see where it goes. Again, you may be misled down the “I really only want to dirty talk and jerk off over your pics” lane. Or the guy may actually bite back with a “yea, man I’d like that ….” And you go on to clear up any other open issues, like what he’s looking for, are the two of you compatible, is there a place to play, etc.
Ah, but pinning them down to a commitment, a time and a place, there’s where the rubber meets the road, And, based on my tawdry years of experience playing the web, maybe one of out every 10 guys – in town or coming to town – who says he wants to connect actually does. Why?
(a) They’re mind fuckers, out to taunt and tease but never deliver.
(b) They’re fantasy fags, living in their own private dream world where you’re their star.
(c) They’re train wrecks, no matter how pretty their pics are, and have no intentions of every connecting because they know they can’t;
and if they’re vacationing …
(d) it’s a hell of a lot easier to make it with that naked guy next to them at their gay guesthouse clothing optional pool who, even if he’s a C+, is somebody they can size up (pun, yes, intended) than go through with their commitment to you who is still, in the end, a blind date.
One group of cock teasers that at least make it easy on you are what I call the new age flashers.
Back in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s there was a rash of wild and crazy, usually young inshape guys who roamed around with nothing on but a trench coat and then, shall we say, waited for the proper moment, usually on a crowded street or subway platform to “flash” open their coat and reveal themselves unto their bewildered masses. Why, who the fuck knew.
Well, today thanks to the wonders of technology, we have the new age flasher, the guy on one of the hook-up sites who webcams a close-up of his big hard pole (he wouldn’t be showing it off if it was little would he?) when you pull up your messages.
But instead of Andy Warhol’s fifteen minutes of fame, the guy’s dick has usually thirty seconds of your undivided attention before the auto-refresh whisks him off to cyber-purgatory.