Posts Tagged bad news

Things Heat Up

In the summer, my company offers half day Fridays. It’s an amazing perk, and I take full advantage.

GroceryShoppingI live for my weekends, so if there was anything I could do to make them better, I did. I utilized my free Friday afternoons to run my errands so Saturday and Sunday would be all mine. I tried to clean and do laundry, run to the grocery store, etc.

This Friday, I was very successful getting through my list. I stopped by my allergist for my weekly shot. Since I left work at 1:00, I decided to eat lunch at McDonalds (never a good decision). While sitting there, I noticed two men walking holding hands across the street. I was a bit surprised. I immediately thought, “We do that in Hoboken?!” In the six years I’d lived in Hoboken, only once before had I seen two men holding hands. I was thrilled to see the courage and the progress.

When I finished eating, I swung by the salon for a haircut and hit up the gym to lift and swim. After my swim, I called CK from the roof deck of the gym. Although we made tentative plans for Saturday night, we hadn’t discussed plans for that night. It was our anniversary. He automatically assumed I was spending the night in the city since he came to Hoboken the previous night. I was not under the same impression, so I explained I did not want to spend both Friday and Saturday night away from place. I told him to pick one. This of course turned into an argument. He complained about the trek to Hoboken, and I resented this. I’d made the trip back into the city to be with him many times after a long day at work, and I did it without complaint. He always made it seem like torture when he had to traverse the Hudson River. The argument grew more and more heated until he threatened not to come at all. I wasn’t having any more of this, so I hung up on him.

Rooftop Phone CallI was tired of this game we were playing. I didn’t want to argue anymore. In addition, my testosterone was already flowing after a solid workout, and my blood was beginning to boil with every complaint.

After I got home and a few minutes passed, he called back (He always was good at playing the role of peacemaker). He told me he’d come to Hoboken, but it wouldn’t be until later. We discussed the argument calmly, and both apologized for getting out of hand. He explained he had assumption I was coming there all day. The idea of him trekking out to Hoboken on a bus wasn’t all that thrilling to him after having those expectations all day. I explained how one of us would always have to make the trek to the other. There was nothing we could do about that, at least for now, so the more fair and balanced we could make it (and the less complaining), the less burdensome it would feel. He agreed.

Since I had a fair amount of time before his arrival, I continued with my to-do list and swung by Shop Rite and Target. When I finished and returned home, I was still a bit depressed from the bad news I’d received at work that week, so I plopped down on the couch and watched TV until CK arrived.

WatchingTVHours passed, and I heard nothing from him. I felt he was dragging his feet and as every minute passed, I grew more and more annoyed. He told me he had to shower before coming over. He obviously wasn’t still showering. I was sure he was just lounging about, which is fine. But I wanted him to be lounging about with me.

This wasn’t just any night after all. We were supposed to be “celebrating” our three-month anniversary. I finally got so annoyed I sent him a text: “Maybe tonight would be better spent apart. I’m in a really cranky mood now.” It was already past 10:00. At this point he was coming over to sleep and not much else. He called and told me he was already in a cab on the way to the PATH. I encouraged him not to doddle before saying goodbye. I needed to cool off before he arrived, or it was a guaranteed fight the moment he arrived. It seemed all the smallest things so easily got under my skin. I was all wound up. Work was stressing me out. Life was stressing me out…

Finally, at 11:00, he arrived, flowers in hand to make up for the botched night. Honestly, I would have preferred he came three hours prior, but the gesture was utterly sweet. And, I forgave/thanked him immediately. I tried to be cool with everything and have a nice time with him since it was a special night. There was no use being miserable.

It wasn’t really his fault either. Work made me a miserable son-of-a-b*tch. He asked me how my day was. I further explained my new predicament and fretted over the possibility of being unemployed in the near future. I was very pessimistic about the whole situation.

DepressedI certainly will hand it to him. He remained positive and tried to assure me everything would be fine. This is why I loved him so much. NO matter how much of a Debbie Downer I can be, he always picks me up and dusts me off. In spite of my pessimism, he was always optimistic.

We also learned to collaborate professionally. We were helping each other bolster up our positions in the social media realm of our jobs. He taught me things I didn’t know about, and through my recent vigorous research, I taught him a thing or two as well.

When I’d had enough talk of my job situation, we agreed to order Chinese food for dinner. I was too tired to cook. While we waited for the food to arrive, we smoked to relax.

He told me about his day at work and the stellar presentation he delivered to the powers that be. He was proposing a new initiative that was well received by the decision-makers. I was happy for him, but also jealous. Sure, I realize how horrible that is to say, but I’m nothing if I’m not honest.

The rest of the night was much better than the evening had begun. Eventually, I forgot all about our fight and my emotions were back in check. We ate our food while watching TV in each other’s arms on the couch.

GeneralTsosI finished eating, but CK was still chowing down as he poured some of the General Tso’s sauce onto on his plate. After a few minutes, he started fretting. Apparently, he’d eaten something quite hot. After investigating, I realized he ate a whole chili pepper. Tears were streaming down his face as he rinsed his mouth over and over again in the sink. Next he tried a glass of milk and a few pieces of bread. That didn’t seem to be helping. He even took to wiping his tongue with a napkin. Nothing helped. It was all I could do to maintain my composure, but after a while I couldn’t hold back. His face wasn’t the only one wet from tears. I was hysterically laughing so hard I was crying.

After a good laugh, interspersed with failing advice, I consulted Google for a better solution. We’d tried everything in the book. When I told him someone suggested eating another one, he looked like he was going to throw me out the third-story window. I was still getting a chuckle out of all this but certainly at his expense. It was torture for him, but he had no idea the gift he was giving me. He delivered exactly what I needed that night — A good laugh.

Eventually the pain subsided, and he forgot all about the incident. As our eyelids grew heavier and heavier, we moved to my bedroom for the night. As tired as we were, our appetites weren’t quite satiated.

We were pinning each other down for the count before we counting sheep. As hot as things were for him during dinner, things in the bedroom were even hotter. We tired ourselves out between the sheets before he finally drifted off to slumber wrapped in my arms. That night taught me something very important. No matter how much we fought, this was the man I loved, and there was no changing that.

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Closing the Gap

Thursday morning I said goodbye to CK in a rush to get him to work on time. I wasn’t going to get to see him that night, but that didn’t stop us from texting each other. Thursday night, between two of my volleyball games, I text him, “Missing you hard babe.” He was on my mind, even though I was concentrating on the game at hand. He responded, and when the game was over, I told him I was off to the bar that sponsors us to celebrate.

While at the bar, around 10:00, I text him: “Do I get to see you tomorrow?” I stepped outside to call him, but I got no answer. I left him a sweet message, but got no response. When I got home at midnight, I called again, but he didn’t pick up. I did a little stalking to see if he checked in anywhere on Foursquare or if Twitter would give me any leads, but no dice. I went to be disappointed and a bit worrisome. Apparently, much to my chagrin, I’m carrying trust baggage from previous relationships.

I woke in the morning to find a text message: “Hey my baby! Sorry. Bloody phone died last night =/. Of course you get to see me. I kinda need to see you. And hold you. And kiss you. And bite you. Sleep over =].” It helped brighten my day. I responded back asking if he’d rather come to my place, and I could give him a ride back into the city in the morning. I wanted to surprise him by baking cookies since his mother was coming. I thought we could bake them together, especially since there were no sharp objects involved. He texted back explaining he really needed to stay at his place so he could get ready for his mother’s arrival. I said, “Okay.” He responded asking if I wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

I called him to explain and ruined my surprise. He told me how sweet I am. We made plans for me to head home after my coworker’s sendoff, bake and come back into the city. He also told me the bad news he received that he didn’t get the apartment in Brooklyn. He was so disappointed. I have to secretly admit I wasn’t all that disappointed. I felt bad for him because he was so excited about the place, but it would have been tough for us. The island of Manhattan would have separated us, not brought us together. Selfishly, I did a little research on one-bedroom apartments in Hoboken and sent him a few links.

I didn’t have the best day at work. For starters, I had to say goodbye to one of my favorite coworkers. Luckily, she wasn’t going far and would be working with CK. On top of that, my coworkers neglected to celebrate my birthday. I myself don’t really celebrate my birthday, but as a department, we always do something nice for birthdays. This was the second year in-a-row skipping mine. And lastly, when everyone went for send-off drinks, I had to stay behind and finish work.

When I finished working, I met everyone at the bar a few drinks in. I met my freshly ex-coworker’s gay roommate and told him my Grindr story. He was all too familiar with Grind and said, “Awww. Now I want a boyfriend!” It was cute and nice to have a gay man to chat about my man with.

When I had my fill, I left to head to CK’s. When I got to his place, I asked if I could vent for a few minutes. I told him about my bad day and my coworkers’ neglect on the part of my birthday. He comforted me and managed to greatly cheer me up. He gave me my birthday card. I read it, and I was nearly brought to tears. It was incredibly sweet and thoughtful. We only knew each other a short period of time, but he completely knew me at my core. For my birthday, he bought us a session to learn trapeze. I jumped up and gave him the biggest hug. I pulled him in and deeply kissed him. I was so happy to be with him. He was an amazing man, and I was incredibly lucky.

The other part of my birthday present was him. He offered up his body for me to use any way I wanted. I was so turned on by his thoughtfulness and his passion. We climbed into bed and began groping and making out and our bodies intertwined as we stripped our clothes off.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. He laid on his back, and I pulled out the lube. When we were both prepped, I climbed on top of him, and the passionate lovemaking began. He felt amazing. This was a special birthday present — One I wouldn’t soon forget. I was incredibly happy just to spend my birthday with him, but to also get birthday sex was truly the icing on the birthday cake.

When we both finished, we laid in each other’s arms cuddling. As it often times was the case with him, the cuddling was almost as good as the actual sex. I always felt safe and comfortable with him. I was crazy for this guy, and I wanted him to be mine and mine alone.

We laid in bed that night watching TV until we fell asleep together with my arms wrapped around him. He was my perfect little spoon. I always slept soundly with him. This was turning out to be quite a special relationship.

I woke in the morning to quite an alarm. Without warning, he removed my boxers and began blowing me. It felt INCREDIBLE! I was already naturally excited, with my morning wood at full staff, but his mouth felt amazing that morning. This was one of the best I’d ever received.

After some time, I took control and began to stimulate my manhood with my hand. The saliva left on it provided amazing lubricant for me to get myself to the edge. While I was doing this, he was busy manually stimulating my prostate with his finger inserted inside me. It didn’t take him long, but he found my spot. It’d been almost a year since someone found that spot and treated it just right. It was a matter of seconds before I exploded all over while my body writhed in spasm. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even think. I was incapacitated. This was the best orgasm I’d had in a loonnnnggg time.

When I tried to upright myself after laying paralyzed in the bed for some time, I could barely walk. My legs had gone limp and weren’t able to support my weight. I would have nearly collapsed if it wasn’t for the doorframe for me to grip for support.

My old roommate texted me to wish me a happy birthday that morning. He couldn’t believe I was awake that early. The plan for that day was to head to the pier, and he wanted me to head there early. It was 8:00am. I wasn’t heading there that early.

That morning he had to early because his mother was arriving at LaGuardia Airport. He had mentioned his desire for us to meet while she was in town, and I was quite excited by the prospect. This was a big deal, but it wasn’t. I was pretty relaxed in these types of situations, so it wasn’t stressful, but meeting his mother was no small deal. It showed he really cared about me enough to introduce us. I didn’t take it lightly and hoped it would come to fruition.

I said goodbye while he hopped in a cab to the airport and made my way back to Hoboken to get ready to celebrate another year on Earth.

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Shout From the Rooftop

Today is a Fast Forward Monday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

After spending the day with The Navigator at the beach and then sharing a pretty spectacular relaxing evening together, I slept great. There was a sexy naked man in my bed, and I knew just what to do with it. We fell asleep spooning each other. When I woke in the morning, I couldn’t stop smiling when I realized it wasn’t a dream.

I still had to bring myself back down out of the clouds to keep myself in check. This wasn’t going to last forever. I didn’t care. Right now, there was a man in my bed, and he needed to be cuddled.

I rolled over and pulled him close to me. He was still slipping in and out of sleep. As he woke up, we picked up just where we left off the night before. Everything we did was fun. We were constantly ribbing each other and joking around. When we ended laying face to face, I said to him, “I just want to climb up to the roof and shout, I love my best friend, [The Navigator]. Boop!” as I reached my finger out and tapped him on the nose (an homage to Super Bad).

We both laughed for some time. We continued to cuddle all morning. I didn’t care if I stayed in bed all day. I was happy.

We were interrupted by a call from his roommate. I’d already learned he was a really good friend, and he liked to placate his friends. While he was on the phone, I took out my camera and snapped a few pictures of him lying naked in my bed. I don’t think he realized what I was doing because he had his back to me, but I wanted some souvenirs to take home with me.

Turns out, his roommate wanted to go to the grocery store that afternoon. They share groceries, so he regrettably turned to me and told me he had to go with him that afternoon before we went hiking. I was very disappointed, but I wasn’t going to make a stink about it. I quickly hopped in the shower and got ready for the day while he packed up his things and got dressed. As we walked out the door, I pointed out the Marilyn Monroe portrait saying, “My week with Marilyn.”

I drove him home and dropped him off. I was already sad to see him go even though I knew it was a matter of hours before I’d see him again. I grabbed some lunch and made my way back to the pool. I relaxed with some light reading. I needed to finish off the Tickle My Tush book so I could write my review.

When most of the afternoon passed by and some noisy kids arrived at the pool, I texted him to see how he was progressing. He was on his way home, so I decided to go get ready to go hiking and make my way over to his place.

I pick him up, and we take a short drive to the base of the mountain. I grab my camera and we make our way up the trail. When we get to a decent height, he suggests we climb back down part way and hit up another trail that had a much better view. We were having fun just being together. On our way back down, he pointed out a shack along the trail: “I wanted to surprise you, but this is going to be where we live when we get married. :)” While he said this, he took hold of my arm. I knew he was completely kidding, but it was also a sweet gesture.

When we got to the top of the other trail, we had quite a view. We could see LA and Burbank off in the distance. He took my camera from me and took some pictures of me. Again, I thought this was a sweet gesture, as were many things he did. He was just very conscientious. You didn’t have to ask him to do things; he just anticipated it. I was falling for him more and more every minute, but I still maintained my mental state.

I then turned the camera on him and snapped a few pictures. I wanted to remember the great guy I met in LA. I hoped we’d remain friends even after I returned to New York. It would certainly be nice to have a friend on the West Coast. Maybe I could even come back to visit some time.

We climbed back down the mountain and made our way to Burbank. We joked about PDA. We both agreed we weren’t really into it, but at one point he casually reached out his hand and grabbed my junk while looking the other way. I pointed out to him that just because he wasn’t looking at it doesn’t mean other people wouldn’t see it as well. We both laughed and continued to joke about other things. We walked around for a little bit and grabbed some ice cream. He was cold, and I was trying to do my best to keep him warm without making him feel uncomfortable. That’s when he broke the bad news to me.

He’d already prepared me for the possibility he’d have to go to work that night at 1:00am. He was on call, and they hadn’t gotten back to him yet. He needed to go home and nap before that shift started.

My heart sank a little. He wouldn’t be spending the night in my bed again. I needed to be a big boy about it though. I drove him back to his apartment and said goodbye. We talked about seeing each other the following day since it was my last day there; I had a flight out at 10:00pm.

I returned to my hotel room and watched TV in my bed. I knew he was napping, but it was make or break for me to ask him if he would come with me for my ride up the Pacific Coast Highway. After debating for some time, I decided to text him: “Lonely here without you already 😦 haha. What are the chances you’d wanna ride up the PCH with me after work tom?” I really didn’t want to take that ride alone. I loved his company, but I seriously feared a disappointing answer.

The Navigator wouldn’t let me down like that: “LOL. I know. I wish I were cuddling with you!!!!! That sounds like a swell idea.” I was thrilled. I was prepared for the worst, and I got the best. I was looking forward to tomorrow’s road trip so much more now that I had my Navigator! “Marylyn Misses you too,” I added.

Shortly after that text, he requested I send him some pictures of myself. “You’re most handsome ones,” he added. “Whom are you showing me to now?” I asked. Apparently, he wanted to show off his “super long first date” to his roommate and his other friend.

I was pretty crazy about him, but reality wasn’t absent from my brain. It did, however, bring a big smile to my face to know he was showing me off to his friends. It made me feel special and gave me hope I would have a longtime friend from what started as weak Grindr banter…

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