Sebastian – A Hot Grindr San Jose Costa Rica Gay Hookup to Remember

During my first week staying in San José Costa Rica, I discovered a half dozen small neighborhood parks scattered around Rohrmoser, a diverse neighborhood just outside of San José, Costa Rica’s capital city. Similar to the neighborhood, the parks were run down, overgrown with green grass from the perpetual tropical rains. Each park had its own mix of creative sculptures, magnificent trees, and inspiring mountain views. The cloudy skies, chilly temperature, and soaking wet surfaces from the rains made for an elegant and oftentimes creepy atmosphere.

The neighborhood left me with more questions than answers. While it appeared like its best days were behind it, it also had a nice selection of Cafes, Peruvian and Costa Rican restaurants, gyms, interesting residential architecture, and more than enough other businesses to keep me intrigued as an urban explorer. 

It was definitely short on people though, my favorite part of urban exploration. I found myself opening grindr more often than normal just to try to find out where everybody was hiding. 

Sebastián was a young handsome Tico (A Tico(a) is anybody born in Costa Rica), who had caught my eye a few times. His name, 420_creepy, suggested we would have a good time together. I messaged him late on a Saturday night, just as I was getting home from a Costa Rican Folkloric Dance Performance downtown. He responded quickly and told me he was in the mood for a beer. We chatted a little bit about my trip to Costa Rica and he asked me about which places I’d be traveling to. 

The next day I messaged him after I went to the gym. I suggested we meet at one of the parks. I liked the idea of sharing my walks through interesting parks with a handsome local Tico and some beers. 

The idea brought me back to last Summer, in Medellin, where no park was ever empty, and hundreds of guys like Sebastian gathered with their friends to socialize and take the edge off in various ways. In Medellin I was content to sit among them. I really didn’t make much effort to know many of them, in person or on Grindr. Here in Costa Rica the people seem to stay indoors, which forced me to reach out and make one on one plans with people to keep from getting lonely. 

Sebastian was quick to meet up. In less than an hour we had made plans to meet up at Parque La Favorita.

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and for once the park actually had a crowd of people. La Favorita was the biggest of the parks scattered around the neighborhood. There were slides and playgrounds, basketball courts and tables scattered around among the trees. I saw a few guys sitting alone, none as handsome as Sebastián. I began to brace for disappointment. Eventually I found him sitting at the far end of the park, almost behind a wall, as if he were trying to hide. 

I sat down next to him and we began talking awkwardly. He was exactly as he looked in his pictures, only more beautiful. He had the same masculine smile as in his pictures, that gave him the look of a soccer player. Yet in person he also had a soft feminine energy that expressed itself through his eyes, and through the way his beautiful slender arms hung from his body. His clothes were worn out and fit the form of his body. His jean shorts were rolled up at the ends. He wore flip flops and carried a large umbrella. 

It didn’t take long for me to realize that he was extremely shy, scared even, and very peculiar. He was an intriguing mix of so many things and after a matter of minutes I found myself eager to jump into his contradictions to try and understand the effect he was having on me. 

He offered me the short end of a joint. I could tell, by his behavior, that he had recently smoked the large end himself.

As we began to share the joint I realized that he picked this part of the park because it was where he always went to smoke. He liked it because it was out of the way and didn’t think to pick another place to meet someone. I liked that about him. From the very beginning he made me feel special for understanding the peculiar combination of elements that came together to make Sebastián. 

We shared the joint quietly. I had been fascinated by the trees in the park all week, but now with the weed everything was becoming more magical. Birds I had never seen hopped between tree branches, gigantic ants paraded along the broken sidewalk carrying tiny leaves, as if they were using them for umbrellas. 

Suddenly both of our eyes were pulled in the direction of the run down gym which occupied retail space in a mostly empty strip mall. A group of Ticos had just walked out of the gym, the sides of their muscular torsos exposed through the enormous holes they cut into each side. 

We both realized what had just happened and shared an intimate giggle at our shared desire. 

“Do you go to the gym?” I asked him. 

He responded no, but then opened his arms, displaying his body, and explained further. He told me that his body is naturally muscular and strong because he works in a warehouse carrying boxes all day. 

This got him talking. People love talking about work. He worked in a big distribution center on the other side of San José. They passed the days socializing and smoking weed, but when a truck would arrive they would have to spend hours unloading it and running the boxes around the warehouse to their destinations.

He spoke fondly about his job. He seemed to get off on the adrenaline of such physical work, the camaraderie, among his coworkers, and the marijuana.

He told me he had been smoking weed for the past 10 years. He was 21. He noted that his consumption of Marijuana had increased a lot when he began working this job.

He talked about an ongoing conflict with his boss, La Jefa. I wondered about this woman, managing dozens of young muscled adrenaline filled young men. I wondered how I would handle a job like that and how one finds themself in such a situation. 

He had a bad attitude when he talked about his boss. It was feisty. It was sexy. His feminine side came out, his wrists moved, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, his mouth opened longer and he just queened out before going back to his stoic quiet high, leaving me to myself, the birds, the trees. 

All of it, especially Sebestián, reminded me how foreign I was. I wasn’t in Mexico, and I definitely wasn’t in the United States. Any idea that I understood anything around me was an illusion. 

All of a sudden a strong wind began to blow across the entire park. The sky opened up and it began to pour down rain. He immediately opened up his big rain umbrella and stood up alone by himself. I took mine out of my bag and opened it. The wind stopped but the rain continued. As we were standing I invited him to my hotel room. We walked away, briskly. 

The breeze started again and we both had to hold our umbrellas in front of us, like shields, buckling under the weight of the breeze. Sebastián looked so vulnerable, in his form fitting shirt and jean shorts, his bare feet covered only by flip flops, no hat, no bag. I was still trying to reconcile his feminine mannerisms with his strong, masculine, lean, muscular body. 

We climbed up the stairs of another nearby park on the way to my hotel. 

In what seemed like an instant, we were laying on my bed in my dark hotel room. The rain pounded down on the ceiling as water cascaded down the windows, letting in very little light from outside. 

He was laying beside me but it was as if he was a mile away. He hadn’t made any advances toward me the entire afternoon. He generously offered me his weed as well as a description of why it was special. His weed was a trendy potent strain of marijuana, from Colombia, called creepy. I now understood his name on Grindr. It was famous for being genetically modified to contain very high levels of THC.

The word creepy seemed to be stalking me. I had been listening to a song named Creepy by my favorite singer, The Weeknd. Certainly no coincidence, I was just too old and out of the loop to have made the connection, before Sebastián had connected the dots for me. 

I had actually been playing the song over and over during my walks through the chilly, green, cloudy rainforest suburb which I had made my home over the past week. The mood was creepy, and so was Sebastián. Nothing was what it seemed. The word instantly became a label that I used as I continued to try to understand and connect with this experience I was having. 

San Jose, Costa Rica was beautiful and ugly at the same time. Both enchanting and boring. This duality, between known and unknown has become normal for me, over the past year since I left Mexico and began splitting my time between the USA and exploring other Latin American Countries. 

I’ve experienced each Latin American country as both extremely different from the last, and at the same time extremely similar. Especially in comparison to The United States. My ability to speak the language like a Mexican impressed many people, even though it was obvious to both parties that we couldn’t understand each other despite my fluency. 

Sebastian fit perfectly into all this contradiction. He lay there next to me in my bed, both of us on top of the sheets. Very distant yet so close. 

I rolled over to my side and started in his direction. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling fan. I put my hands on his elbow, and began caressing his soft slender bicep. My hand found a rhythm, and it began creeping around the contours of his shoulders, his neck, his chest. 

When you travel to different countries you realize that the bodies are shaped differently. The Ticos have a way of being skinny and muscular at once that I find so beautiful. My hand continued to traverse his chest like a windshield wiper, lost in a trance. My eyes attempted to take in every detail, my breadth getting stronger, getting deeper. 

I lowered my hand to his abdomen and began teasing it closer and closer to his groin. He had to make adjustments to accommodate the changes down there. 

All of a sudden he broke character, turned over to his side so he was facing me for just one second, long enough to give me a devilish laugh, a wink, a giggle, a tiny piece of what I had been craving from him, before returning onto his back. He unbuckled his belt, pulled down his pants, and let his long, erect cock lay down on top of his abdomen, stretching beyond his belly button. 

He looked at me without giving any indication of what he wanted to happen next. He was engaged but also absent. I went down on his penis. It seemed a latecomer to a party who needed attention to feel comfortable, and I was the host. 

He had one of those cocks that was creepily perfect. Perfectly wrinkly, perfectly smooth, perfectly proportioned, fat where you wanted it to be, and slender at the same time. Too long for me to put the entire thing in my mouth without choking, I wrapped my two hands around the shaft and got lost exploring the upper half. 

I would check on him from time to time, by gazing up at him with his cock in my hands. His eyes were low, from the creepy. He held them open just enough for us to maintain the creepily nascent connection we had spent the past hour developing. 

The absolute nature of my experience was running away from the contradictions and contratiempos of Sebastián. This would have made me feel uncomfortable if i wasn’t so busy juggling his balls with my mouth and licking his thighs. 

We played around together for a long time as the afternoon October rain pounded the roof relentlessly. We switched positions so that I could get down on my knees and devour him more efficiently. My hands grasped his ass cheeks, moved up to the small of his back before reaching up to touch his nipples and tickle his abs. 

Things ended with me on top of him, we kissed passionately for un rato creepy, while he reached down and lined up his cock with my hole. He pushed himself inside of me ever so slowly. I felt his unlubricated tip creep its way into my dry wrinkled hole. He began to fuck me with just the tip and he never really went much further. His face told me when he had cum inside of me. 

I said goodbye to him and went back into my room alone, still on another planet, and began to think about what happened. 

I wasn’t lying down long when a message came up on my phone. 

“Tracey I was wondering if you could lend me some money. I have not eaten all day and all I have in my house is frijoles.”

I told him no problem and I agreed to meet at the park, with the stairs, on the hill. 

We met up, and each took a seat next to each other on a concrete bench. I gave him 5,000 colones. I had another 4,000 in my other pocket in case he asked for more. I would have been happy to give it to him. But he didn’t ask. He told me he would take care of some errands and then hinted that maybe we could smoke some more creepy later. 

The clouds had drifted away and the sky was a sharp blue. You could see downtown San Jose in the distance and then the large Mountains beyond. Off in the other direction was the black raincloud which had just consumed us for the past hour. Everything I looked at changed so much depending on the angle I was looking. 

To Be Continued.