Posts Tagged beckon
After realizing PR wasn’t the one for me, I was ready to move on. I liked him a lot, but I felt we’d be sacrificing ourselves to stay together, and that’s not fair to either of us.
Wednesday night after work, we made plans to meet down near his neighborhood for some cocktails. I let him pick the place, and he told me where to meet him. When I arrived to the corner where he was, he immediately came off as shy. We shook hands and introduced ourselves, which always feels forced and awkward for me. I sometimes wonder if a hug may be more appropriate considering we’re about to embark on a date, but I never have the guts to go in for it from the start.
We walked towards the bar he had in mind while we struggled to make small talk. I asked him about his day and how work was. In turn he asked the same questions, and I detailed my boring day at the office.
Finally, we arrived at the establishment, The Dove Parlour and took our seats on two bar stools on the corner of the bar. We ordered our drinks and returned to our awkwardly forced conversation. Again, we returned to the topic of work. Every question I asked him was returned with a quick short response. It was like pulling teeth to keep the conversation going. There were long periods of silence I wasn’t sure how to deal with.
When we finished our second drink, the bartender approached and asked if we’d like another. This is where I failed miserably. This is why I’m too nice. I defaulted to him, expecting him to have felt as awkward as I did, but instead, he asked for another round. I was shocked. Did he think this date was going well? How could he?
I sat there and struggled to find a subject to continue to talk about over the next round of drinks. I was ready to leave, but I felt I’d be rude. I was in for another night of wasting my own time due to my lack of confidence to say, “I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to go.”
I ended up staying for two more rounds — Four in total. Things were slowly improving. As the drinks passed his lips more words finally came out the opposite direction. He was finally starting to hold a real conversation. The topics were nothing exciting, but at least it was bearable.
By the end of our fourth round, he wanted a kiss. He moved in to make a move, and I allowed it. It’d been a while since a man kissed me, but I wasn’t entirely weak in the knees from it. He really did have soft lips and was a good kisser, but that didn’t negate the fact that our date was not going well.
He beckoned me to change stools so we weren’t straddling the corner. He wanted me to be closer. At this point, he wanted a makeout session. I wasn’t having any of that. I don’t make out in bars (not unless I’m hammered and don’t know any better, and the last time I did that was with a woman).
I told him I thought it was bad manners to make out at the bar. I pointed out how it always turns into a spectacle, especially when it’s two men kissing each other. He pointed out the lack of people in the bar and asked if I wasn’t comfortable with my sexuality in public. I pointed out if he was a woman, I’d feel the same way. There’s never a need to make out at the bar. Take it outside. This was going to be a point we differed on, because he did not stop attempting to convince me to lock lips. This is when I basically told him to back off. It wasn’t going to happen.
When we were ready to leave, he decided to walk me to the PATH — The complete opposite direction of his apartment. He was going to take a cab home and mentioned something about his supervisor paying for it.
When we got to the PATH station, he took the opportunity to pin me against the fence so he could have his makeout session. Again, I’m too nice and too accommodating, but at least he was a good kisser. It was an amazing change of pace from the night before, in which my “date” tried to eat my face.
Finally, I pulled back and said goodbye. He mentioned his desire to meet again in the near future, and I left that door open for possibility (seeing the too nice trend beginning here). When I got to the other side of the Hudson, I had a text waiting for me: “In spite of being terrified, I had a really good time! Hope to see you soon!” I simply responded, “Terrified?” “Oh, I have panic attacks before dates,” he added.
I didn’t respond, but in the morning, I had another text waiting for me: “Those French Lavenders (the drinks he was having) pack a punch. Sorry :/” I simply put his mind at ease and said, “No worries.” That would be the last I would hear from him. I was happy to skip all the awkward texts and requests. He simply took the hint I wasn’t interested and moved on…Follow @onegayatatime
When I arrived back at Smiles‘ apartment, we agreed upon watching a movie and ordering take-out. He was in the mood for barbecue, so we pulled up a menu online to figure out what to order. We also took the time to pick a movie to pull up on Netflix since Smiles doesn’t subscribe to cable.
Throughout all this, I started getting handsy. He was sitting in his computer chair, and I stood behind him massaging his shoulders and then his chest. I had my hands down his shirt caressing his chest in a very sensual motion. He was really enjoying it, which means I too was enjoying the moment. He commented, “This feels better than the Asian woman who gives me a massage. You’re more relaxing than she is. I should save my money and come to you.” I took this as a great compliment and continued to pleasure him.
After some time, I backed up and sat on the couch. He was going back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. I stuck out my finger and beckoned him to come closer. I pulled him down on my lap, and we sat there embracing for some time. After about two minutes of silence, just enjoying our closeness, we started to chat a bit. When he had his fill, he started to back away, but I pulled him in closer and told him, “I’m not done yet.” We both laughed and he tightened his embrace.
Our dinner order was placed, and our movie chosen. He grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom, and we hopped into bed to watch Vanity Fair. Smiles was very cuddly throughout the entire movie. We changed positions periodically to ensure consistent blood flow and comfort, but I was really enjoying snuggling with him. He had been very sweet from the moment I walked in the door.
About half way through the movie, we realized our food hadn’t arrived. Smiles called to inquire and was told it would arrive shortly. When another half hour passed before we saw our food, he called again to complain. Just then the food arrived. We paused the movie, filled our plates and made our way back to the bedroom.
When the movie was over, we cuddled and spooned and chatted a bit. I was happy. Things started getting more playful when I pulled up his shirt and started to blow raspberries on his stomach. He went off in a fit of laughter. He then resorted to pulling any body hair I have. I told him that was just plain mean. I told him that was my mother’s defense mechanism when I would joke around with her as a kid.
This segwayed into exchanging fun stories from our childhood. I was really beginning to feel like I had a boyfriend. Yup. I said it. I just used the “b word.” I didn’t say this to him, but I began to think about it. I felt very close to him at that moment.
Smiles began to become very relaxed and slowly started drifting off towards sleep. I was gently rubbing his whole body while he dozed off. We were spooning, and I slide my hand between his thighs and started to massage his manhood. It wasn’t long before my hand was pulled away with a grunt.
I know I said I was going to bring it up the next time I was denied, but I chickened out. I was a little taken back by it. He had been affectionate all night, but when I tried to make a move, my seduction was shot down.
At this point, my ego was in the toilet. I quietly spooned a few minutes longer before we hugged and kissed goodnight. I found myself in the very familiar situation of walking home alone pondering why the guy I was so strongly attracted to was so distant from me on so many levels. I tried to think about how great the day was instead of the unhappy ending, but I’ve never been good at fooling myself. I’m far too much of a realist.
I needed a new game-plan, but it wasn’t going to be an easy one to come up with…Follow @onegayatatime