I thought I was ready to commit — until a friend and I stripped down to our underwear

Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger.

This week we hear from Harry*, 30, who is gay and lives in Leeds.

Harry, a PR manager, is an a situationship with Mark*, who he met on Grindr. The pair have been together for six months, and sleep together about four times a week.

But now, Harry, who admits he has commitment issues, is feeling the pressure to make their relationship official.

‘Heartbreak is something I’ve experienced before and the thought of going through that again is debilitating,’ he tells Metro.

‘Intimacy scares me, and so does coming to rely on someone who I think will eventually let me down.’

When it comes to the sex though, Harry is far more content. ‘It’s veracious and passionate,’ he says. ‘I’m confident with how I feel in my body and I know I’m a very sexually appealing man.’

Without further ado, here’s how Harry got on this week…

The following sex diary is, as you might imagine, not safe for work.

Monday

What better way to start the week than with an orgasm. Mark spent Sunday evening at mine, which is quite the achievement considering a mere few months ago I would get an Uber home post-ejaculation.

I’d pass it off as wanting the comfort of my own bed, but it was really to put physical distance between us to manage expectations.

It’s still dark outside and the room smells of last night’s sex and sweaty bodies. We begin to stir and he places his head on my chest and hands wandered below my waist.

I’ve never met a man who has quite the same appetite for sex that I do. The synchronicity is comforting but exciting, however, in the back of my mind there’s still one hurdle yet to tackle: I’ve never been the bottom.

In the last six months Mark has always been the one receiving when it comes to penetrative sex, which suits me just fine. I feel much more confident and at ease as the top – the penetrator.

In previous relationships I’ve enjoyed it, but after being hurt so many times before, I don’t fully trust how stable our relationship is. I think this is also why I’m still in the grey area of spending so much time with Mark, but unable to feel safe enough to make it official.

I get out of bed and throw on my gym kit for my morning workout. We kiss goodbye, and as always I never commit to our next meeting.

Tuesday

After a bad night’s sleep, a relentless day of back-to-back meetings, and a 90-minute hot yoga class, I meet my boyfriend-that’s-not-my-boyfriend and we head over to mine.

We’re both absolutely shattered and it’s clear we just want to eat and sleep. Previously, spending the night with my love interest without sex would have sent me into a catastrophic meltdown.

For years, I equated my self-worth to whether people wanted to have sex with me, whereas now I feel confident within myself. I know I’m enough and don’t need to be lusted after by other people to feel validated.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come, although, in the back of my mind I know we’ll be having sex in the morning.

Wednesday

The sun rises, but our morning glory does not.

I spent the majority of the night waking up to Mark’s snoring, and when I make a playful remark about it, it doesn’t land, killing the mood entirely.

I head to the gym for 6am, telling myself a morning fumble would have felt rushed and unfulfilling anyway.

It’s chest day and my workout is littered with extended glances from strangers. Maybe they can sense the fragility of my relationship-not-relationship, or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to push the boundaries. 

In the changing rooms post-workout one of the guys from the gym floor gestures for me to join him in his shower cubicle.

The key problem with being in a situationship is even though you’re technically not in a relationship, you still need to be respectful and refrain from receiving blow jobs from strangers in public. So, I decline.

In the evening, I head over to Mark’s flat. Strangely we feel closer after our morning disagreement as it opens up an honest conversation.

I admit to being confused and trying to push him away, while he admits feeling unfulfilled and desperate to be close to me.

Open conversations always lead to passionate sex (in my experience) and this was no exception. It feels electric as I assume my natural position on top.

Thursday

Disaster strikes leading up to bedtime, as Mark accuses me of sending mixed messages – after our passionate sex, I became withdrawn again. Our communication breaks down rapidly and we argue.

We never seem to understand each other: I’m asking for the patience to feel comfortable with the pace of our relationship, while he needs reassurance to know where it’s going. 

Instead of staying and resolving our argument I get an Uber home. Over text I apologise for my breakdown in communication (again) and he suggests I take a couple of days to think.

I arrive home and my ASOS parcel has arrived for a party I’m going to tomorrow: it’s an underwear party, and the dress code is, unsurprisingly, underwear.

I quickly try on boxers, jock straps and mesh shorts, before I settle on classic black CK briefs.

Friday

I get the train to Manchester with my single gay friends. We arrive at the venue and we’re given a black bin liner each. We strip down in the middle of the bar and throw our belongings into the bags.

I’m surrounded by naked sweaty bodies. I can’t shuffle from the bar to the dance floor without brushing past exposed butt cheeks.

I head to the dark room, where the action happens. Men line up on all fours ready to be taken, groups explore each other’s bodies, and others watch from a distance.

From missionary to extreme fetish, nothing is off-limits. Perhaps the most colourful act we witness is fisting. I’ve never tried it, and honestly I don’t think I could stomach it.

In a dark corner of the room, out of nowhere, my friend pulls me close and kisses me. Our underwear drops to the floor and our hands wander across each others’ bodies for the first time before we exchange blow jobs.

Mark becomes a distant memory, he’s out of sight, out of mind, and any thoughts of commitment slip away.

Strangers watch and having an audience excites me. Our passion is interrupted by our group of friends frozen who are all in shock – I guess they never saw it coming.

Saturday

I call it a night at the party in the early hours, but I’m still frustrated about my hookup being interrupted.

Being so close to climax and having it snatched out of your hands at the last minute is like being one lottery number short.

I run into my friend in the living room of the Airbnb we’ve rented, and I’ve already made up my mind – we need to finish what we started. I order him to take off his clothes, and he eagerly obliges.

As I climax, I realise what I’ve done. 

Mark and I are in the middle of resolving an argument – potentially agreeing to commit to each other – but my actions show I’m clearly doubting this plan.

I head home and soon I’m taking a reflective walk to Mark’s flat. I have every intention of resolving the situation, but as Mark answers the door, his tone and curt replies show he’s still pissed off.

I find I don’t try to remedy the situation, and instead we end it. I don’t tell Mark about last night – call it cowardice but it feels pointless to open that can of worms now.

Sunday

The immediate aftermath of a ‘breakup’ can feel like a relief for avoidant attachers like me, but it hits me hard.

I realise I might have thrown away something good in an attempt to protect my heart, when in reality, I might have just broken it all by myself.

I spend the rest of the day distracting myself with chores, eating, and messaging friends. Once the flat is heavily bleached and the fridge is empty, I download Grindr to see who’s about.

I just want someone to stroke my bruised ego but, to my horror, it’s exactly the same faces as before. I quickly give up and delete it. Once again, I’m alone.

I might be free from any kind of commitment, but I can’t shake the feeling that I might have self-sabotaged yet again.

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