The Road to Hell

Guess you guys are just waiting to hear about my fall from grace! What do they say? That the road to hell is paved with good intentions? Honestly, trying to do the right thing as a good upstanding man isn't that easy after all - it's really so much easier being bad!

Well I found that out for myself when I decided to meet up with McCute for lunch this weekend.

Erroneously believed that I'd already made plans for every eventuality - sabotaging any hidden scheme he and I could have cooked up for a wicked assignation - to plan the perfect platonic mandate! Picked an early lunch - so I wouldn't be tempted to dive into a heady jug of sangria and thereafter into a hotel bedroom with him. Chose a fairly innocuous locality - so full of bustling bystanders and noisy tweenagers that I wouldn't have been able to find a secluded spot for a hasty physical examination.

Even suggested a healthy, low-fat, low-calorie, low-taste salad for an afternoon delight - since there's hardly anything wildly sexy or inappropriate about organic greens, is there?


The road to hell is paved with gorgeous men?
Like always, McCute was prompt. We surely do like our guys to come on time, don't we? Clad in jeans and a tight tee, he looked like a low-fat, low-calorie diet I wouldn't have minded investing in either. After the usual meet-and-greet, I shoved him into the changing rooms for a closer inspection in the direction of the brightly-lit cafeteria. No doubt he was puzzled over my sudden affection for cucumbers and cabbages since he clearly recalled my unhealthy carnivorous habits.

McCute : You eat vegetables like a good boy now?
Paul : I only follow what the good doctors tell me.
McCute : Glad to hear you're adept at following medical advice. How about coming up to my room later then?
Paul : Surely that isn't recommended in our latest guidelines!

Seriously. I was that lame. And that wasn't the only random misdirection I aimed his way.

Perhaps McCute was really only teasing me of course ( or I was reading too much into his actions ) but indeed, what did he see in me? McCute's a relatively attractive fellow, reasonably intelligent - and a surgeon to boot. Surely he can find lots of hunky suitors of his own. Was I his good deed pity-fuck for the year? Not that I minded much but charity cases like me would have liked to know.

McCute was a bright guy though and he caught on to my cheap ploys soon enough. Dropped the sly innuendoes soon enough and we spent an hour or three catching up on our far less scandalous colleagues and their exploits. Innocent enough. And certainly not worth writing home about.

I'm a good boy. Really, I am!

But then after I said my fond goodbyes to McCute promising to keep in touch, I took my leave, walked ten steps and suddenly received an anonymous message from someone named Drew. To quote the sender Let's have some fun later, shall we?

Seriously, I stared agog at the text for almost a full minute. Despite deceptive appearances, I don't actually have a toll-free sex line for my cell number. And I don't usually get strangers suggesting midnight rendezvous.

And yet I found myself irresistibly tempted. Again.

Though it does seem like some horrible nightmare, doesn't it? While the cat's away, I suddenly find a dozen tempting mice out to play? WTF. Talk about the perfect scheme to drive me insane. Now if I suddenly open my front door and find a half-naked hunk wrapped in a bow, I shall know for certain that the devil has suddenly decided to play a cruel prank on me.