Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.
I barely knew him, but I could already tell we were quite a match. On top of that, we weren’t even done the first date before he planned to see me again. It was his suggestion for us to catch The Hunger Games Saturday morning while we had breakfast.
I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.
I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.

He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!
We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.
We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.
We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!
When the movie was over, we made our way to the street and discussed the film while we walked. This was his second time seeing the movie. He expressed interest in reading the book, and I strongly encourage him to. I was already part of the way through the second book in the series of three.
We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.
When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.
He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.
We stopped by Pinkberry on the way back to his rooftop as per his request. We ordered ice cream and shared spoonfuls with each other as we walked up the street. When we got back to his place, we headed straight to the roof.
We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.
After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.
Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”
Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.
I told him it was a very long time for me since any guy had been inside me. I told him he’d have to go VERY slow. He began to slide in when I gripped his leg and implored him to stop. He told me to relax and just hold it there, but I insisted he pull out. I needed a break before we could continue. I know he thought it would be better if he simply held it there, but I was being painfully stretched. He wasn’t exactly a small guy — Quite the opposite. He pulled out, and I could see the disappointment on his face. He thought that was it, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I just needed a second to relax again. He began kissing me in a caring way. It was as if it was his way of saying, “I never want to hurt you again.” When I regain composure, I directed him to begin again. Delight spread across his face at this news.
This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.
He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.
We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?
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With things gently crumbling between Chelsea and I, I decided to give Middle Eastern another chance. I enjoyed spending time with him, and he certainly was a nice kid. I wasn’t sure if I could see myself dating a guy still in college, but I figured it certainly couldn’t hurt to give it a shot.
Wednesday morning while I was on my run, I did a lot of thinking. I was trying to clear my head. I realized I wasn’t all that into Chelsea after all. There were a few things about him I liked, but there was nothing there that got me truly excited to see him again. I didn’t want to waste either of our time, so I decided it was best to tell him how I felt.
While at work Wednesday afternoon I thought about him a M.E. He was such a sweet guy, he was quite interested in me, he was smart… There were a lot of great qualities there. The big question — Is he mature enough for me. I’d never dated someone that much younger than me before. I wasn’t basing this on a number. I was basing it more on his personality.
The other side of the coin was how great he was in bed. I really enjoyed being with him the first time. I fantasized about he and I having sex in the locker room shower of my gym.
When I got home that evening, I told him to come over. He didn’t hesitate. He finished what he needed to do, and he made his way to Hoboken.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When he arrived, we immediately went to my bedroom. He was hungry for sex. We quickly stripped each other until we were naked and enjoyed kissing, groping, sucking, etc. It was nice to be with a man who was so passionate once again. He loved to kiss and was good at it. I didn’t have a single complaint about him. After ample foreplay, we had sex. It appeared I created a bottom. He was all about it now, even begging for it this time. It was hot. I really like how masculine he was, but also how much he was willing to bottom for me. This was an unusual combination from my experience. [I actually had to walk away from the computer for a minute because I was thinking about the fun we had and getting a bit too excited while writing this].
Afterwards, I went into the bathroom to relieve myself. I came back to my bedroom to find M.E. on his phone. He was doing a lot of typing. I encouraged him to come to the living room with me to watch TV and be somewhat social with my roommates, but he told me he’d be out in a minute. He had a few messages he needed to reply to.
Since I last saw him, he sprained his ankle. I’d been giving him some advice, having sprained both mine multiple times and being related to a physical therapist and someone who teaches athletic training. As a result of this sprain, he wasn’t able to go on his planned spring break. He told me he was working out the logistics of rescheduling the trip for another time.
I left the room and went to the living room. I’m not 100% sure why this idea popped in my head, but I wondered if he might be on Grindr. I had my phone and tablet with me, so I pulled up the app and checked it out. He didn’t show up on either. Maybe he wasn’t on there, but my suspicions weren’t fully satisfied. When about ten minutes passed, I went back to the room to see if he was coming. He put some of my clothes on and joined me. We watched another episode of Modern Family together.
While he watched, he sat behind me in the chair, and I laid between his legs watching the show. We both laughed a lot. By the time the show was over, it was late. I suggested we go to bed, and he agreed. I asked him what he’d told his roommates about where he was going. He told them he was heading home for the night.
While he was brushing his teeth, he left his phone on my night stand. My mind shot back to the chance I had to look at N‘s phone the night I witnessed him kissing another man in front of me. Boston convinced me it was a bad idea. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. I had no problem if he was using Grindr. We were not exclusive. I was seeing other people. I just found it incredibly offensive if he was cruising Grindr from the comfort of my apartment. That was not okay in my book. I needed to know. I turned his iPhone on, and sure enough, at the top of the screen was an icon for Grindr showing he had 23 messages. I placed the phone back down on the night stand and processed what I just learned. Not only did he have messages, but he blocked me on both my accounts so I couldn’t see that he was cruising Grindr.
It was that exact moment I decided M.E. and I wouldn’t date after all. It was fine if we spent time together and enjoyed having sex, but I wasn’t going to date him long-term. I couldn’t trust him. I wasn’t mad he may be seeing other guys or even having sex with them. I was mad he was attempting to line up other guys from my bedroom. I decided not to say anything right then and there. It would simply form my future behavior.
He came back to the bedroom, and we both climbed into bed. I wrapped my arms around him and he climbed into the natural crevice I created as big spoon until we dozed off.
When we woke in the morning, we fooled around a bit. I had to go to work, but I made sure to set an extra early alarm to allow for a little fun in the bed followed by a shower with each other. It was sexy and a nice way to start my day.
We left together, and he gave me a ride to the PATH. Since he told me last time he wished I kissed him when he dropped me off, I decided to oblige that request. I gave him a nice smooch before heading into the city to start my workday. I liked M.E., but not enough to make him my boyfriend — Not after what I learned. But, it would be nice to have someone around regularly to share affection and pleasure with on occasion. Maybe this was the start of a beautiful friendship…
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My time in San Francisco ended. I was thrilled I finally got to meet the online friend I’d shared so much of my life with over the past two years. We grew much closer in the little time I spent with him. I was already looking forward to the next time I would get to see him.
Early Saturday morning, I made my way to the airport. I was off to Chicago to finish out my week-long work trip. I’ve actually begun to look forward to these plane trips. It’s one of the few times I can sit and concentrate on writing blog entries without any distractions.
As I boarded the plane, I made my way past first class to my standard seat. I was happy to see it was a newer plane with slightly extended leg room. Being 6’2″, flying has become quite uncomfortable these days. I look forward to the day I get an upgrade, but those days seem to happen about once a year, even with status.
I was also thrilled to find I was sitting next to a very good-looking man with a great body. I could tell this guy was no weekend warrior. He spent a lot of time taking care of himself. I was enamored by his square jaw line and cute dimples. He started chatting me up when they announced the upgrade of six passengers to first class. Since we are both larger gentlemen, we jealously talked about their comfort levels with a certain level of “good for them.” I asked him what he does and learned he was a green beret in the Army Special Forces. I scolded him for not making that known. “If you were in uniform, you’d be first in line to get one of those seats!” He was such a nice guy. “It’s cool. I’m fine here,” he replied nonchalantly. It was such a nice change of pace not having to sit next to someone fat who stole half my seat or who smelled and ruined my entire flight.
Apparently, I wasn’t going to get through very much writing on the plane. So much for no distractions. I asked him if he was headed for business or pleasure. He told me he was flying to Brussels for an internship in defense analysis for the next three months. He told me all about what he does and how much he loves doing it. He also took the time to ask me what I do. I was proud to be sitting next to this man. To me, he was bigger than sitting next to a celebrity. I’ve always had a major soft spot for the military service men and women. Not necessarily in a sexual way. Being in the Navy was my grandfather’s proudest accomplishment. I regularly donate to the USO in his memory partly because I know how much it meant to him, but more so because I know what they have to give up to serve our country. I have friends in the service, so I’ve seen first hand what they sacrifice to keep us safe.
Through chatting with him more, I also learned his girlfriend is also in the Air Force. They were both stationed in California while he was finishing up at the Naval Postgraduate School and got to see each other on the weekends. They had it rough. They got to see each other so rarely, my heart really went out to him. We talked a great deal about his relationship and how they make it work. He realized it wasn’t ideal, but they make it work. I admired his convictions. I asked if she’d be coming to visit him while he was abroad in Belgium, but they have yet to determine if it would be worthwhile since he doesn’t know what his leave will be yet.
The more I talked to him, the more I realized how polite, cute, smart and sexy he is. I wanted to be friends with this guy. I wanted to hit up the bar and buy him a beer. It was completely in a non-sexual way too. Since I was young, I’ve craved to have “the guys.” I’ve never had a group of guys I’ve hung out with regularly. And, I’m not talking about a gaggle of gay men either. I’m talking about a group of men, gay or straight, who hung out all the time and were just real. We could rely on each other to have our backs, no matter what. He seemed like a guy who would fit that mold. He was a genuine good guy. I always try to surround myself with individuals like him, but it’s not easy.
When the flight attendant was coming by handing out drinks and asking for food/snack orders, I wanted to buy him one of my favorite United Tapas snack boxes. Had she not asked him before she asked me, I probably would have done it, however, looking back I’m not disappointed it didn’t work out. It may have made him feel awkward or uncomfortable. I just wanted to show my appreciation first-hand for what he does, however, I didn’t want to do it at the expense of his comfort. He probably had no idea I was gay, but some people are uncomfortable taking handouts. I also loved watching him flirt with the flight attendants. He was quite a smooth operator without being overt or corny.
When the plane landed, he proved once again his gentleman status. He was “Mr. Chivalrous” helping all the women with their bags. I glanced over at his boarding pass for his connecting flight to Brussels and caught a glimpse of his rank, Major and his name. He turned to me just before stepping into the aisle and wished me luck on my pitch.
As we exited the plane, I snapped a picture as he walked away (trying not to be creepy!).
When I got to my hotel, I hopped online to see if I could look him up. I wasn’t going to stalk him. I was just curious to know more about him. I found him on LinkedIn and learned more about his educational/occupational background. It is vastly impressive. I resisted the urge to add him as a connection on there and went about my day.
While I was in Chicago, I planned to visit my friend who moved there a few months prior. I hit him up when I landed because I was going to try to meet him for dinner/drinks that evening instead of dining with my coworkers. He replied telling me he had a fever and wouldn’t be able to make it out while I was in town, and we’d connect at a later date.
This was going to truly be a work trip, so I dove in full force to make sure I delivered.
In only somewhat related news…

A photo I came across in my Facebook feed over the past week makes me smile every time I see it. I dove into researching all about it. I am fascinated by it and love the media attention it is receiving. This shouldn’t be getting media attention. It should simply stand on its own as an amazing display of love and affection. But, until homosexuals are treated as equals, I welcome the attention. I hope it inspires you to be more courageous in your life, as it has inspired me.
If you’d like to read the full story of what is happening in these images, click here.
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Superman Returns
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 30, 2012
Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.
I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.
I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.
He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!
We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.
We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.
We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!
We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.
When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.
He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.
We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.
After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.
Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”
Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.
This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.
He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.
We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?
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