Tensions were high between CK and I. Nearly every night, we’d find something to argue about. Although it didn’t always result in an explosive fight, there always seemed to be some kind of noise in the background. The honeymoon was officially over.
When we woke in the morning, CK apologized for the night before, as did I. As we got ready for work, we both agreed underwear was not something we should be fighting about. After making us breakfast, we ate, showered together, got dressed and made our way to the PATH.
A day prior, CK got tickets to see Hot Chip in Brooklyn from a coworker . He asked if I was interested in going. We had already planned to head to Brooklyn to visit Hip since he was recovering from his second hip replacement surgery, so I said, “Sure. Why not?”
While we were at work, we nailed down plans via text and phone. Since I finished much earlier than he did, I hopped on the subway and made my way to his office. He wasn’t quite ready yet, so I asked for his coffee order and hit up Starbucks. I didn’t sleep very well the night before, so I needed something to keep me up and give me the energy to be a fun date.
While riding the subway out to Brooklyn, I asked CK if he requested the time off to join my family on vacation. He reacted to the question as if this was some big surprise. I’d only been asking him about it for a solid month. When he asked me to take time off and book a flight to Miami for his nephews birthdays, I did it without question. Now that I was asking him to take time off to be with me and my family, he didn’t think he could get the time off. I was p*ssed! I found it quite selfish. If he’d requested the time when I originally asked, we wouldn’t have gotten into the argument that ensued. As I said, we seemed to be fighting about everything.
The rest of the ride wasn’t pleasant. It grew to far higher proportions when we got off the subway. I wanted nothing more than to get right back on the subway and make my way home. I no longer had any interest in going to the concert, and I told him that. It takes two to fight, so I take half the responsibility, but he was being rude and treating me in a way I wasn’t willing to subject myself to. As a result, I skulked behind him as we walked through Prospect Park. As he yelled at me for not helping him navigate our way to the concert, I shouted back, “Fine. Just go without me! I don’t want to go anymore. I’m not going to have any fun.” I wanted nothing to do with him or Hot Chip.
I think he understood I was serious and responded by apologizing. “Can we just get past this tonight?” he asked. “Do we have to sacrifice our entire night over this fight?” I didn’t want to just put on a happy face and grin through it. I was angry, and to be honest, I wanted to go home out of spite. The concert was something he wanted to go to, and just as he didn’t put in the effort to come with me on vacation, I wasn’t going to come to the concert. I realized how unproductive this would be, so I agreed to go (not before numerous attempts to make my way back to Hoboken).
When we finally made it in to the concert, CK bought me a few beers, and we cut through the crowd to watch the concert already in progress. Surprisingly, I started to have a better time. Admittedly, I’d never heard of the band before we arrived, and I didn’t recognize any of their music. The fighting ended, and CK was being affectionate. We even made a few friends while moving from place to place among the crowd and managed to bum a smoke off some nice guys.
When the concert was over, it was far too late to visit Hip. I felt really bad considering he was the original plan and reason for the trip to Brooklyn. I wasn’t thrilled we sacrificed his visit for a concert, but in the end, it was CK’s decision.
On the walk to the subway, we found ourselves in a situation once again that birthed yet another argument. When we were a safe distance away from the situation, I began to calmly explain how p*ssed I was at him. Once again, he didn’t think it was a big deal and almost brushed it off as if I was overreacting. I didn’t care. To me, it was so much more. I told him explicitly how much I didn’t like these types of situations, and he completely disregarded those feelings. I don’t think he consciously acted in spite of my request — Quite the opposite. I don’t think he was thinking at all.
After arguing about the matter the rest of the way to the subway, I decided I wasn’t going to engage him in conversation any longer. Clearly I wasn’t getting through to him. We rode the subway with a large group CK decided to befriend. I wanted nothing to do with them. When he asked me questions or tried to introduce me, I simply ignored him. If he wasn’t going to take my feelings into consideration any longer, I wasn’t going to regard his either. I began to wonder if this was something we’d ever get passed. Maybe we were just inherently different. Maybe he would never be able to see things through my eyes. I began to think about what it would mean to end things. Obviously that would be my last resort, but I began to prepare myself for that possibility.
I was also in a tough spot because I was spending the night at his place. By the time we resurfaced in midtown, CK finally realized I was ignoring him. He started to get irritated by this, and yet another fight broke out between us. This time, I didn’t care. I went nuts. I didn’t care who saw us fighting or what they heard as I laid into him. We argued back and forth about the severity of the incident at hand for some time. He didn’t realize it, but as each of these incidents came up, my tolerance for them dwindled more and more. Toward the end of the argument, I think CK finally got a clear idea of the zero tolerance I had left. I’m not the most bending person (and that’s an understatement), but this was one sticking point I wasn’t going to bend on. I didn’t care how small the infraction. He had a choice, and he needed to pick me.
He finally understood my stance and apologized for everything. He didn’t think this fell under my umbrella of discomfort. He finally understood that nothing in this realm would be acceptable to me. We were able to civilly walk the rest of the way back to his place, but the conversation was certainly nonexistent.
When we got back to his bedroom, I brushed my teeth, stripped down to my boxer briefs and climbed right into bed. CK finished what he needed to do before bed and climbed into the opposite side of the bed. That night, we didn’t go to bed fighting, but there wasn’t a lot of love in the bed either.
When last I wrote about my budding relationship with Clark Kent and myself, we had gotten well past the honeymoon stage. We were trying to maintain a relationship across state lines, and it wasn’t easy. That being said, we were still seeing a lot of each other, and I started to wonder if maybe it was too much. I often wondered, maybe there is such a thing as too much of a good thing…
We needed to find balance, and that wasn’t going to be easy. We’d been dating four short months, but, in reality, it felt like we’d been dating for close to a year, even though we were still figuring things out.
That Thursday night, my old roommate was gathering with friends at the new waterfront biergarten in Hoboken for drinks to celebrate his birthday (which I was unaware of until deep into the night). I mentioned it to CK and asked him to join me when he finished work. He agreed, but he had to work later.
When I arrived, I didn’t know too many of my old roommate’s friends in attendance. I began texting and calling other friends to join us. P and S both responded, “On my way.”
As you can imagine, it takes a lot of time to write a blog, so I was utilizing my free time during the day at work to accomplish this. Apparently, my boss took notice to my poor use of free time since he wasn’t seeing any productivity coming from my time between projects. (Perhaps you can understand why I have been neglecting this blog for the past few months).
This is relevant because I was also coming off a really rough day at work. I received my review that morning, and it was not positive. My only saving grace was a preemptive strike made a few weeks earlier.
I noticed an opportunity to take over our social media duties (which were being completely neglected) and asked my boss if I could take them on. During my review, when he pointed out my poor utilization of free time, I countered with the argument, “That’s why I approached you about taking on the social media duties.” I thought maybe I’d saved my a$$. He countered with, “I only wish you’d come to me about it three years earlier.” I was defeated.
As if this wasn’t bad enough, I learned later that day we’d be merging with another company. So, on top of a bad review, I was petrified of being labeled a redundancy. Two weeks earlier, my career looked to be shaping up. I was taking on a new role, and finding early success. My experience with this blog and other social media was really paying off. Now, it looked as if my whole world could be crumbling around me.
A majority of it was out of my hands at that point. All I could do was put my nose to the grindstone for the coming weeks. But, on a Thursday night, I needed to forget. That meant I needed more than a few stiff drinks!
I drank beer after beer while mingling with old friends and some new ones. I was having quite a good time, but I was missing CK. I was texting with him back and forth discussing his arrival.
When he finally arrived, I was thrilled to see him. He could be comfort after a rough day, and I was finally properly lubricated enough to have a good time and forget about work, enjoying a night out with my man and friends.
CK grabbed a beer and immediately dove right into the conversation with all of us. I was chatting with S’s roommate, and the discussion quickly changed to his tattoos and body piercings. CK was a bit fascinated by tattoos at that time. He detailed for me the elaborate tattoos he was dreaming of getting.
S’s roommate was very much Mr. Machismo. I wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with the whole “gay thing.” There was just something about his attitude and the way he carried himself that I didn’t think he’d be too comfortable. I never formally came out to him, as I’d only met him a handful of times, but I assumed S clued him in. I was very pleasantly surprised just how cool he was with the whole “gay thing.” He turned out to be quite a laid back guy. It just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover.
The two quickly formed a bond. At some point in the conversation, the roommate started talking about his anxiety over having to fly the next. CK took it upon himself to aid in this situation.
Immediately, I was unhappy. My mood shifted abruptly. I shut down. I’ll never quite understand why I react in this way to these types of situations. I think it stems from striving to suppress my feelings at the moment so I don’t create a scene in public. The deeper question is why do I become so enraged in the first place?
This time, CK wasn’t exactly participating. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, however, aiding and abetting someone else’s wrongdoing was equally as bad in my mind. He was enabling behavior he knew I was opposed to. I wasn’t just feeling anger. I was scared. I was afraid I was going to lose him. We’d had this discussion time and time again. If we continued to have the conversation, eventually, he would be faced with an ultimate decision, and there was a chance I would be a casualty of that decision. All of my emotions tied back to this very thought. I was afraid in the end he wouldn’t choose me, and as a result, I would have to choose me. I’d have to say goodbye for my own sanity, facing my greatest fear in life, being alone, on top of losing a man I loved. Obviously, I never wanted it to come to that.
I managed to suppress this anger and feeling of betrayal. My mind was jumping back to all the other times we discussed this very topic. This was only exacerbated because I’d written the blog post about our night at Matinee that afternoon. One of those very conversations was fresh in my mind.
I managed to suppress all this until we walked in the door of my apartment, and then I unleashed. I told him how unacceptable his behavior was, and he was completely dumbfounded. He had no idea why I could be so enraged.
Of course this only fed my fury. Had he forgotten all these other times we’d discussed this? Was I living a broken record? We argued extensively about this, and CK threatened to leave multiple times, making it to the door a handful of times.
We finally had a breakthrough at some point when he either feigned to understand my stance, or what I was so vehemently explaining finally sunk in.
We argued a lot about a lot of small things —Things I felt were very important. He felt I was trying to change him. I wasn’t. Honestly! I loved him. I just felt he needed to grow up in some aspects of his life. A person needs to adapt and evolve when entering a relationship, and I still wasn’t sure he was putting in the effort. I wasn’t trying to mold him into my ideal mate. I didn’t have a preconceived notion of who he should be. But, I felt there were some sacrifices he’d need to make to make me happy.
Perhaps I was the one who needed to change. In reality, we both needed to. Only time would tell if we could come to consensus on these types of issues.
Regardless, after fighting, we kissed and made up. Well, we more than made up. This was all followed by a lively romp in the sack. It was so incredible, we both finished at the same time for the first time. As we showered, we discussed our epic make-up sex. “And don’t think you can start picking fights with me just so we can have make-up sex buster,” I punctuated. We both had a good laugh.
No matter how much we fought, at the end of the day, I loved him. He made me happy. I loved that no matter how many times we fought, we always found a way to make up. I wanted to grow old with him, but the key word in that phrase for us would be grow…
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…
During my week off from work, I was laying in my bed on Grindr on my tablet. Much to my surprise, the southern guy from OKCupid I connected so well with over the phone popped up. Last I heard from him, he was seeing some guy. That was the reason he gave me for never following through to meet up with me. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with how it all went down. I left a really bad taste in my mouth. I really didn’t want to ever give him a chance, but I was constantly drawn to how well we hit it off when we talked on the phone.
I messaged him, “Well, look who it is!” He responded, and we began chatting a bit. He asked how I was and started getting a bit flirtatious. I told him I was well and pointed out his flirting would not work on me. He’d already turned me off by shooting me down. I detailed for him all the advances I made on him and pointed out how he never even took the time to meet me.
He pulled out the excuse that he wasn’t looking to meet someone else — It just happened. He kept trying to get pictures out of me. I told him I was not looking for sex, especially from him. I pointed out that if he wanted to grab a drink as friends, I would be down, but I wasn’t going to send him pix and do the whole Grindr flirting thing.
I’m not proud of this, but I had an internal conflict in my head. Part of me wanted to steal him away from the guy he was currently seeing. Another part of me wanted to make him fall for me and then dump him. I’m not that kind of vindictive guy, but I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind.
I decided then and there to form a game-plan. I was going to present myself as I am. I wasn’t going to try too hard or be someone I wasn’t, i.e. someone he wanted. I was just going to display my best self. If he happened to choose to go on a date with me, that was his choice, not mine. We exchanged pictures, none of which showed the goods. This is what really seemed to reel him in. He was certainly responding to visual stimuli. He really started getting chatty. I’d already learned he was still seeing someone, but he let it slip that it wasn’t the person he was going on the date with when he dropped me like a bad habit. I called him out for not calling me when things ended with the first guy. I put it all on him. I was running him through a guilt gauntlet. I made myself quite a prize for him to attain. Now, I had his attention. I wasn’t going to chase him. I set the bait, and he was going to chase me.
After more flirting and exchanging of pictures, we made plans to grab drinks after work Monday evening. We agreed upon Chelsea Manor, but when I arrived there, it was closed. He met me shortly thereafter, and we began to walk to find a bar to go to. I met him on the street with a very awkward handshake. He seemed very aloof. I had a feeling this was going to be an awful date!
We found a bar nearby, The Guilty Goose, and sat in the front window drinking a few rounds of beers. I quickly learned how homophobic he was. I’m a fan of guys who aren’t into the scene, but he was so far removed. It was alarming. He wouldn’t even walk through the “gay part” of Chelsea. I wasn’t asking him to go to a gay bar, but that was the neighborhood between his office and mine. There were plenty of places to go that weren’t gay bars.
We chatted over our beers and kinda hit it off once again. After three rounds, he asked if I was hungry, and we decided to grab dinner together. He knew of a good Thai place nearby, so we went there. We ordered a bottle of wine and our food. We didn’t need the bottle of wine. I could tell he was getting quite intoxicated. I was still pretty lucid, but I didn’t want to be drinking that much on a Monday night.
He started getting very flirtatious and sexual. At one point he removed his shoe and began massaging my crotch. I was wondering how the guy he was dating would feel about this. I wasn’t going to move things across the line, but if he did, I wasn’t going to stop him. Some other guy stole him away from me when I was trying to court him. It wouldn’t be my fault if he came to me while seeing someone else. I will say, I egged him on a little by unzipping my pants and offering a challenge to his dexterity. He wasn’t able to maneuver his foot into the opening. Then he tried using his hand, reaching far under the table. When I felt the waitress noticed the under the table horseplay, I got embarrassed and told him to put his shoe back on.
We paid our bill and made our way toward the PATH for me to go home. Apparently, he wasn’t done with me. “I’m really enjoying hanging out with you. Let’s grab another drink.” My goal for the first night was to set the bait, not to win him over. I was very cautious with him. He seemed like a wanderer. I didn’t want to take things too fast with him. He was going to have some decisions to make, and I didn’t want to force his hand with excitement. I wanted him to have the time to choose.
We plopped down at the bar at Jake’s Saloon and ordered a round. He placed his hand in my crotch and began groping me a little. I was getting drunk, so I upped the ante slightly. I put my hand down his pants and began groping him as well. He was making an attempt to do the same with me when I stopped him. He wasn’t very good at not being obvious. That’s when my mind began to develop a plan. I suggested we casually use the bathroom. I would go, and he would follow one minute behind. I wasn’t looking to have sex. I was simply thinking a little making out with some heavy petting.
I went into the bathroom stall, and he followed close behind. He began kissing me and unzipped my pants. He suggested “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” We both stood there with our manhood in our hands when he bent down and began licking the tip of mine. It was time to go. I did not want the bartender walking in on us. We put the boys away, zipped up and casually walked back to the bar.
We finished our beers and made our way for the door. I was saying goodbye to him outside the bar because we would be heading in separate directions. I brought up how he was seeing someone else, and I didn’t want to get involved with someone who was involved with someone else. Better judgment was kicking in. I was noticing how his wandering eye would be a problem. If he was willing to dump his current guy for a better model, who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to me. I was proceeding very cautiously. He assured me things with the other guy were already on their way out. He’d had doubts before even meeting up with me. He wasn’t willing to really kiss me, and when I called him on it, his inhibitions dropped a bit. We kissed a lot. I told him he needs to shape up if he wanted to pursue anything with me. Outside all the sexual flirtations, we really did click. We shared a lot in common and the conversation was good. I wasn’t thrilled he was so southern, but I’m sure that would be something I could get over.
There was potential here, but like I said, I was proceeding with caution. He was far from perfect, but I did like him. This wasn’t simply a game of cat and mouse. This was the first time I truly played the game with purpose, but he was the end goal. Only time would tell if anything meaningful would blossom…
SPRING! The first day of Spring finally arrived. We didn’t have a very rough winter, but I was certainly ready for spring. I had no work obligation, so I rang in the new season from the comfort of my bed watching TV.
About 1:00 am, I got a booty call. There was a guy I had been in touch with for over a year and never met. He was a very sexy Hispanic man who it seems swam in the same circle as me. This wasn’t just any random booty call, however. He was over at a friend’s place, and they were looking to have some fun.
They didn’t want to have a threesome in the sense I’d recently been in. They were more looking to watch porn and jerk together with some light fun. Things got particularly uncomfortable when he asked if I party. I am NOT into drugs mixed with sex. It’s not my thing. I was pretty clear about this. I don’t feel comfortable around it at all. I told them if partying was in, I was out. They were fine with that. They didn’t think I was coming, but in the end I agreed to come by.
I quietly snuck out of my apartment and hopped on the motorcycle. I made my way in the chill of the night over to Jersey City where his friend lived. When I got there, I couldn’t figure out where to enter the building. I finally found it when the Hispanic guy came down to meet me. I finally got to meet him in person. He was hot and was an impressive presence. He was well-built and very tall. I shook his hand and rode the elevator up with him.
When we entered the apartment, I was greeted by a gorgeous dog. It was the Hispanic guy’s dog, and he put him in the bedroom so he wouldn’t be a bother. It was a gorgeous apartment. The owner was sprawled on the couch in front of the porn playing on the big screen TV. I was introduced and removed my jacket. I was encouraged to make myself comfortable. All three of us began to strip. I wasn’t attracted to the owner of the apartment at all. He wasn’t attractive, and he had a very distant look in his eyes. He kinda creeped me out. I had my suspicions he had already partied. He had a beer in his hand, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the culprit.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. The three of us laid on the couch watching porn together exciting ourselves. Then the kissing began. I started kissing the hot one while the ugly one started kissing all over my body and began orally pleasuring me. He was constantly going deeper to the point of making himself violently gag. I was petrified he was going to vomit in my lap. I tried to concentrate on the hot one. He was very normal and enjoying himself.
The ugly guy was almost like a dog on me. He kept climbing on me, and I really wanted him to go away. The Hispanic guy kept making comments about him and to him. He, however, wasn’t speaking at all, only grunting. “She’s a big old bottom,” the Hispanic said. I fully understood that by him nudging his hairy a$$ toward me constantly, but I was not interested. He wanted me to penetrate him, but I was not going anywhere near that, even with a condom on. I was cordial to him, but I never purposely engaged him in any way. He kept getting in the way of me enjoying time with the hot one, whimpering by my face waiting to suck on my mouth.
A few times I contemplated leaving. I never did anything I wasn’t comfortable with, but I wasn’t really enjoying myself. Periodically, the porn would freeze to buffer, and the “dog” would have to fix it. It was a nice reprieve from him being all over me.
After some time, the hot one decided it was time for him to head home. He needed to get the real dog back and settle in for the night. If he wasn’t staying, neither was I. I stood and told them I was heading out as well. I started to get dressed. The ugly dog on the couch was confused by all this and still in a haze. The Hispanic guy asked if the other guy could give him a ride home. After some confusion, he agreed. I was very happy I wasn’t in that car. I wasn’t sure he’d be ok to drive. I waited for the other two to finish getting ready and dressed to head out.
The Hispanic with the dog told us he needed to go downstairs to let the dog relieve itself. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being left in the apartment with just him. I stood by the door, and the other guy got ready quickly. We ended up all riding down in the elevator together. When we got downstairs, we all said goodbye. I hopped back on the motorcycle, sped home and hopped in the shower.
When I got back to my apartment, I got a text from the Hispanic guy. “Sorry. I think my friend was into you. I felt kinda out-of-place. LOL.” I responded back after I got out of the shower, “Hey dude. Great body. Seem fun. No offense, but your friend isn’t really my speed. Sorry. Not sure if you had fun with me, but feel free to hit me up sometime.” That’s when I got the full story between the two of them: “Him and I hooked up when we first met and no more after that. Sorry if I came off rude. I had fun with you. Definitely. But, he was trying to have you for himself. I got the hint. He’s my bud, so I was trying not to f*ck it up. I wasn’t sure if you were into him or not. You were kissing each other. Plus I had my pup with me.” I explained to him the confusion: “I was more just letting him play. Didn’t want anyone to feel left out. LOL. I was trying to get more of you ;)” He told me, “I would chill again whenever.” I quickly responded, “Cool dude. You have my number. Anytime. Trying to go on a Grindr diet… Obviously failed tonight.” He finally added, “It’s cool. Had fun. Finish some other time. ;)” With that, I hopped into bed.
I finished myself off and passed out. I didn’t set an alarm since I had nothing to wake up for early in the morning. This post should have been titled I have no willpower. Hopefully the next day I would be able to stick to my new diet.
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…
Periodically I get slightly outlandish requests from men on Grindr. Some want to pay me to suck on my toes and lick my feet. Some are looking for very kinky things. Some just want to give a bl*wjob. To be honest, this was never something I have ever craved giving. It’s part of my bedroom repertoire, but it’s never something I’m just really itching to do without getting some reciprocation. This isn’t always the case with Grindr, adam4adam and ManHunt men.
On the night before St. Patty’s day in Hoboken, I received a bunch of Grindr messages from a guy who’d been asking to come over and give me a bl*wjob before work on numerous occasions. I was laying in bed watching TV and saw no harm in a little oral pleasure. As the conversation continued, he went dark, and I went to bed.
As per my usual, the next morning, I woke up horny. I had multiple messages from “The Milkman.” I conversed with him on the subject for a little bit. He apologized for dozing off the night before and never coming over. He seriously wanted to make it up to me. “I’ll make up for last night. I swear! You won’t regret it. I’m that good!” He was at his apartment waiting for his friends to wake up. They spent the night in anticipation of the local holiday. I told him I was still in bed and was horny. He immediately offered to come over and service me, but he wouldn’t be able to do it until 12:30. By then, my roommate would have my apartment filled with her friends. That would prove to be a logistical nightmare to sneak him in. Not that I need to sneak him in, but I don’t need a bunch of fresh college grad girls running their mouths about me.
He continued to push me to figure out a way to make it happen. “You can drink a beer while I do it,” he added. He had to wait until 12:30 because that was when his group was heading to the bar. He would double back and come over to my place. I explained the party and told him I’d have to sneak him in the back door. He seemed to be game with the plan. I questioned what I’d have to do for him, and he immediately told me nothing. He just really wanted to service me. He wasn’t the best looking guy, but he wasn’t ugly either. I was okay with the situation as long as I didn’t have to service him.
We started getting graphic, but also discussed safety. We didn’t really know each other. We didn’t want to do anything too risky. I was all riled up and having a hard time not finishing myself off right then and there. I told him to just come over then, but he wouldn’t sneak out on his friends. I was so horny. “I can’t. My girl is here. Wait. You’ll get it.” WHAT!? His girl? Guess he had a girlfriend. That was none of my business. If he wasn’t doing it with me, it’d be some other guy. It was obvious we weren’t going to form a relationship out of this, so it was no skin off my back. I did question him on it, and he explained it was a terminal relationship. It was already on life-support. He told me not to touch myself. “Think about baseball or grandmas,” he added. With that, I went and took a shower to pass the time before his arrival.
When he got to the door, he texted. I buzzed him in and he climbed the back staircase. It took a few attempts and close calls before I opened the door and he came straight into my bedroom and closed the door. When I told him a girl just walked past the door, he responded, “This is crazy bro.” Everyone was finally in the kitchen, and I assumed I pulled it off.
We chatted a bit about our previous conversation and our plans for the day while we shared a beer. He seemed like a reasonable guy. Very down-to-earth and realistic. He wasn’t the most fit guy, but he was a fun character. He was also very anxious to get my pants off.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I sat on the bed, and he pulled my shorts down. He was very pleased with what he saw, and he went to town. I took the opportunity to use my hands to fondle him through his pants. He quickly became aroused, which further increased my arousal. He continued for some time before I moved up on the bed. He came around my side, and I undid his pants so I could really feel him. It didn’t take much longer before I was on the edge of climax. He back his head away and began to use his hand while I finished in quite a fountain show. I think we both loved every second of it. He really was as good as he made himself out to be.
While I toweled off, I asked him about his girlfriend. He told me he was ready to dump her. He also mentioned many of his friends already knew he was gay. I wasn’t fully buying any of his stories. They all seemed just a little too convenient.
The conversation then turned on me. He told me how good-looking I was. He enjoyed my strong features. I complain about my nose quite often and am seriously considering getting it fixed. When I mentioned this, he heavily protested. “You have a very strong Roman nose. Don’t change a thing about it,” he protested. I told him that was the nicest way anyone has ever described my big nose before. We both laughed. “No. But really. It’s great. That and your strong chin. You’re a very handsome man,” he added. I was blushing.
Shortly after, we snuck him back out the door when the coast was clear. Five minutes later, I received a text from him: “Thanks! You’re a pretty rad guy!… And stop picking on that face. You’re a f#ckin’ knockout!” This was the first time anyone had ever thanked me for them giving me a bl*wjob. I replied, “If anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.” He told me any time I wanted him to come over, he’d be all over it. “I’d love to have a regular thing where I swing by in the morning before work a few times a week,” he said. He really was like the milkman.
I polished off my beer and walked out to the kitchen. I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought. My male roommate and his girlfriend noticed him come in. They didn’t care and didn’t judge me. When I told them the full story, they actually gave me a high-five. I walked to the fridge and grabbed another beer. I had a long day of drinking in front of me…
Since my breakup with Smiles, I’ve been making greater efforts to spend more time with friends. I didn’t neglect them while I was dating him, but I certainly didn’t shower them with attention either. They’re very important to me, and I wanted to make sure they knew they were appreciated. Of course, I also just loved hanging out with them, otherwise they wouldn’t be my friends.
One of my old roommates asked me if I wanted to go out to the bar. It’d been a long time since he’d done this. It came quite out of the blue, but I was very happy for the invitation. Since we don’t live together, we get along much better. It wasn’t that we fought all the time while we lived together or anything. It’s just much simpler now. I look forward to bar nights with him.
At the same time, one of the girls who I know from my annual Martha’s Vineyard trips was planning a birthday gathering the same night a block from my office. I asked my old roommate if he minded going there for happy hour. I thought it would make things convenient so I could spend time with both. It’d been a long time since I caught up with both friends.
My old roommate and I arrived at the bar early. We made our way through the crowd at Gingerman to the bar to order some beers. I offered to pick up the first round, as I generally do. I handed him his beer and we cheersed. It was at that moment I learned it was his birthday. I had no idea until he said something. I felt like such a sh*t. He was a close friend, and I was usually up on that sort of thing. I have everyone’s birthday in my phone, so I checked to see how I missed the date. It turned out I didn’t have his birthday in there, but with more investigation, I had scheduled it a month later on the same date. I told him how bad I felt, but also added, “At least I offered to buy the round! Haha.” He laughed and quickly forgave my mistake. I thought about it for a second, and realized I was the only one meeting him for drinks. I was the one he wanted to spend his birthday with. I was touched and happy.
We stood by the door because it was the only place we could stand, drink and have a discussion. He told me his plans to go to Atlantic City that weekend for his birthday with a busload of people. I wished him luck since it sounded like such a complicated situation.
After some time, the birthday girl arrived. She came in and gave me a big hug. I introduced her to my old roommate, and we quickly caught up. She decided to make her way to the back of the bar to see if she could grab a table when the bouncer chased us away from the front door. My old roommate and I had already been back there and knew there were no tables, so I let her find out for herself after telling her that. He and I made our way to the front corner of the bar. Just as we did, a couch opened up. I texted the birthday girl to come join us. About ten minutes later, she finally did and brought the rest of her group over.
I talked with my old roommate as more and more people filtered in. It was becoming an intimate little circle. I introduced him to everyone that joined that I knew. When the evening was dragging on, I decided I was read to head home. I had to take equipment home from work, so I was going to book a car service from my office. I invited my old roommate to join me since he still lives in Hoboken as well, and he accepted. I pointed out how I bought all his drinks and provided him a ride home, proving I wasn’t a bad friend who forgot his birthday after all.
We said goodbye to the birthday girl and the rest of the group. She pulled me aside and told me how cute he was. I explained to her he wasn’t a love interest. I pointed out how she’d met him at my Christmas parties, as well as his girlfriend. She was so confused, but I realized what happened. He was guilty by association. Because he was sitting on the couch with me, and because of my status as a gay man, everyone who knew this bit of information also assumed he was gay as well.
As we walked to the car, I pointed out to him what happened. Even though there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, I apologized to him for it. He was oblivious to it, and he laughed it off.
That night, I also had to say goodbye to another ex-roommate. He was still a good friend and tennis partner. He was moving to San Francisco for work, which meant I would probably see him once a year like my other San Francisco friends. I was very sad to see another friend go. Slowly but surely, all my friends were moving away or pairing up and falling off the face of the earth. I know this is part of getting older, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.
My sister and I went to the bar where he and his friends were gathering. It was nice to get to see him since it had been so long. He’d been quite busy with his new job, but now I’d see even less of him. After I got to chat with him for a bit, I texted my other friends, D and his girlfriend and asked what they were up to. They wanted to meet up for drinks, so we decided to go to Cooper’s Union, where I know the owner and bartender.
We met them there, and the whole lot of us wasn’t charged for a single drink the entire night. He always took great care of me and my friends when he worked at my usual watering hole. Now that he branched off and opened his own bar, the attention only got better.
I had a great time with everyone that night. I got to see so many of my friends. Normally I’m too lazy to do any of these things. I always bail last minute out of selfishness, but I was trying to be better about it. It was already paying off. I had a really great time.
In the middle of all this, a gorgeous man walked into the bar. I’d seen him many times before. I’d actually seen quite a bit of him as well. He was a usual at my favorite bar, and he was a usual at my gym in the city. Apparently we both lived in Hoboken, and we both worked in the same neighborhood. I’d had a crush on him for a looonnnggg time, but had a very strong feeling he was straight. He was still gorgeous and fun to look at.
At the same time, I noticed he caught my sister’s eye as well. It’s ironic, but we have the same taste in men periodically. We both acknowledged shared interest in him, but I pointed out to her it wasn’t even worth a battle. She’d already won. There was almost no question in my mind he was straight “How do you know?” she asked. “I can just tell. But, I can also tell you he looks great with no clothes on — At least from the backside anyway,” I added. We both laughed and she continued to ogle him from afar. I did as well, but I was much more discreet about it.
When I was tired and it was time to go home, I gathered everyone to make our way home. Of course I wasn’t going to walk out without paying. I gathered cash from everyone and handed him a wad of cash before walking out the door.
I had a great night. I saw a lot of my friends in one night, I got to scope out a hottie I’ve had my eye on, and I had cheap drinks. Maybe single life was working out well for me. Maybe it was time I tried that for a while… Maybe not…
Since I’ve been slacking, I’m going to make it up to you this week. Hope you don’t have a busy week, because you’ve got a lot of content coming your way!
For as long as I can remember, I was trying to nail down a date with a specific guy I met on adam4adam.com. He had the cutest smile that could light up a room (in case you haven’t noticed — and I’m just coming to this realization — I’m a sucker for smiles). He messaged a few times on a4a, but nothing ever materialized.
Months passed, but I could never seem to get him to meet me. He’d show a lot of interest, and then he’d disappear for a bit. Like the ocean, it was a constant ebb and flow with him. Finally, I just flat out gave up on him, and I didn’t hear from him again. When I broke up with Smiles, I went back through my saved messages and decided to hit him up and see if this time would be different.
Ironically enough, I learned he moved out of the city. He was originally from Connecticut, and he moved back home with his parents to save a little money. It seemed now he was interested in finally meeting me, just when it would be most difficult. We discussed many evenings as possibilities to grab a drink before we finally found a good day to grab lunch. Even then, we were playing things by ear.
Of course, this didn’t happen. He had to cancel on me. However, he proposed raincheck options. He agreed to meet me for a drink one night after work on his way to Grand Central to hop on Metro North to CT. I did some research to find a bar that would be convenient for both of us. We set a time, and I told him to meet me at Annie Moran’s by Grand Central Station.
I was already having reservations about this guy. Was this how it was going to be all the time. Quick rendezvous before he went home? I finished work before him, so I decided to walk there instead of taking a subway or cab. It was raining lightly, so I broke out my umbrella, however I wasn’t walking alone. I had Grindr to keep me company while I walked. I’m such a whore. I was already looking for the next date before this one even got off the ground. But, it’s what you gotta do if you have an aversion to gay clubs. I stood outside the bar paging through profiles while I waited for him to arrive. He too was walking from work, and he worked about fifteen blocks away.
Just before he walked up, he gave me a call. I told him where I was, and when he saw me he hung up. As he walked towards me, he wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It wasn’t a bad thing; he was just smaller than I originally thought. We greeted each other with a handshake, and with that made our way into the bar. He offered to buy me a drink since I’d been waiting for him. I was in charge of watching our bags and trying to find a piece of real estate to stand/sit and chat.
He came back with the beers, and we dove into conversation. It was slow going at first, going through the standard order of questions. As he talked about his job in fashion, I noticed a bit of flamboyance coming through. I wasn’t thrilled, but it was far from a deal breaker. He was certainly cute (although he looked much cuter in his pictures before he cut his hair shorter).
We talked about family, work, his moving back home, where I live and grew up, commuting nightmares, etc. It was nice. I couldn’t quite tell if he was all that into me. I was starting to think he thought I was too “straight” for him. But, as the conversation progressed, his body language began to change. I realized he may have just been nervous. Once he relaxed, I could tell, he was flirting a little heavier. After the first beer, he asked if I wanted another. I gladly accepted. I figured he was going to dictate the end of the date since he was the one who had to catch a train. He told me all about his curfew and how he’d have to take a taxi if it got past a certain hour; his parents would no longer pick him up.
We talked about watching sports on TV and participating in them. Somehow skiing came up, and I told him my story about the first time I skied and how well I did. When the group next to us lef their table I snatched it, while he got us a third round of drinks. The date was going well, or at least I thought so.
While we sat, he took the opportunity to touch my leg periodically. I love that. It’s a surefire sign of interest. I returned the favor as well. I could tell there was a lot of sexual energy between us as well. We were both feeling it. We talked more about what we do for fun when we’er not working. He told me about his old apartment and how he still comes back into the city to do rotating dinner with friends at their respectful apartments. There were slight awkward pauses, but that can be warranted on a first date.
When he finished his third beer, he told me he had to be running for his train. I thanked him for picking up the tab, and I told him I would pay next time. “If there can be a next time,” I added. I walked him to the doors of Grand Central and said goodbye. He was lingering, and I could tell he wanted a kiss. I wasn’t sure his position on PDA, but I decided to go for it. I wanted a kiss, so I was going to get one. I leaned in with my arm behind his back and gave him a nice quick kiss goodbye. We agreed to find time to see each other again soon as we parted ways.
On my ride home, I took the opportunity to text him and let him know I thought he was cute. He told he had a great time, but also told me how he’d locked himself in the bathroom on the train. It was a really funny story, and I was happy to hear he had such a great sense of humor and easy-going personality. He told me he wanted to grab lunch later in the week, and I agreed. We would figure out a time that worked for us both. I was already looking forward to it…
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…
On Friday, my last night in San Francisco, I made plans with Swinging D*ck to come to my hotel. We talked about grabbing dinner before staying in for the night. However, he casually invited me to come out with him and his friends when he realized he had to go out for a friend’s birthday. I was apprehensive since it was a torrential downpour outside. It hadn’t rained for three months prior, but now it was raining for three straight days. This trip was turning out to be an epic fail.
I graciously accepted his invitation and waited for his call to tell me where to meet them. Hours passed, and I didn’t hear from him. I was all dressed up with nowhere to go. I decided to run out to grab dinner at In-and-Out when dinnertime passed by. That’s when I finally got a text. He told me they were going to Lookout in a bit. He would text me when they were leaving, and I could meet them there.
I ate my burger in my hotel room and made my way outside to hail a cab. Luckily I wasn’t out in the rain too long.
When I arrived, I made my way to the second story bar and began looking for him. After two minutes, and noticing a lot of men scoping me out, I found him in the crowd on the other side of the bar. I walked over and said hi with a big hug. He introduced me to his friends. They were all very nice. I wasn’t sure exactly how much they knew about me.
I ordered a beer before I was told we would be moving on for the night. It was back out into the rain. Apparently, we were headed to a house party for the remainder of the night but not before popping into a liquor store for some beer. We hopped in a cab and made our way to the party.
It was slightly awkward because I was now a friend of a friend of the host. I was hoping everyone would be okay with my attendance. Luckily, only the entrance was slightly awkward. After that, I was in my element. I talked with my friend, his friend, and many other men at the party. It was the biggest sausage fest I’d ever been too. I think there may have been two women there versus the fifty gay men.
I met some interesting people and one very sexy man who looked a lot like Steve Pasquale (Sean Garrity) from Rescue Me. Swinging D*ck is a smoker, and when I drink I’ve been known to smoke the occasional cigarette, so those were nice breaks where we somewhat stepped away from the group and could talk more. He really was a sweet, intelligent guy. I learned a lot about him talking to him on Skype, and I only wanted to get to know more.
The night was beginning to draw to a close. For one, I had a flight to catch in the morning. Secondly, the birthday boy/host was ready to hit up the bars. Everyone was getting kicked out. S.D. told me he had to tell me something when we got outside. We walked away from the party to find a bodega to get him cigarettes. As we did, he took the opportunity to confide a big secret he’d been walking around with.
He pointed out to me how standoffish he was the previous night, how he had to leave early and how he changed plans from coming to my hotel that night. Then he told me all this wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to me — Quite the opposite. The reason was because he was HIV positive.
My heart immediately sank, and not in a selfish way. The compassion I felt for him in that moment was so great, I can’t even begin to explain.
Apparently I know very little about HIV. He told me he’d been “positive undetectable” for a year and a half now. I never heard that term before, but deduced its meaning from its name. I also did the math in my head and realized he contacted it just after he started talking to me on Skype. I put two and two together and realized that’s why he was so depressed when I was talking to him. My heart was breaking for him.
He explained that he is on medication, and the doctor told him he would lead a very normal and full life for the remainder of his time on this planet. I was learning a lot about the treatment for HIV. I realized I needed some education, and I was happy I had someone so amazing to teach me.
A large part of me wanted to cry and give him a big hug because I couldn’t imagine what he was going through all this time since being diagnosed. The larger part of me was upset because he felt he couldn’t just tell me outright from the start.
He didn’t know how to tell me, nor did he want to. He thought I would treat him differently or stop being his friend. I told him he needed to give me more credit than that. He was an amazing guy, and nothing changed between us.
He started to explain his strange behaviors I wasn’t even noticing. When I asked him back to my room, he was very leery because of what might happen, but he still wanted to be with me. So, he agreed. When we were fooling around, he said he was purposely taking more time to please me so I wouldn’t even have a chance to please him. When I went for it, that’s when he really said he had to get going. It wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to me. It wasn’t because he didn’t like me. “I think you’re amazing,” he added. It was because he was scared. I understood completely.
When I asked him to come to my room a second night, he talked to his friend about it. “I don’t know if I can tell him,” he told his friend. His friend told him to do whatever he felt comfortable with. He actually invited me to come out with them that night in an attempt to set me up with his friend. Looking back, I did feel as if I was being sized up as the night progressed. However, I was not feeling him in the slightest.
When we were at the party, he encouraged me to go with the guys who asked me to come with them for some fun because it would get him off the hook. I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in them either, however their compliments were always welcome. 🙂
I never noticed all this, but I jokingly reprimanded him for going through all those charades instead of just telling me as a friend. Of course I would understand. I told him about all my skeletons. I would have hoped he’d feel comfortable telling me his.
We continued to walk to the bar everyone was heading to. He told me about how he contracted it and how bad the situation was. He admitted that’s why he was so depressed when I first started talking to him. It all made sense now.
When we arrived at the bar, it was time for me to say goodbye. I had an early flight, and it was already two in the morning. We talked a little bit more, gave each other a big hug, and made out a little bit. It was hard saying goodbye. I felt we had so much more to talk about. But I needed to go. We kept coming back for just one more kiss before we finally parted ways.
As I walked towards my hotel searching for a cab, I thought about what just happened. My heart was still breaking for him that he had to go through that. I wish I’d known sooner so I could have been there more for him. I was so proud of him for finally finding the courage to tell me. I was starting to think he just wasn’t into me a little bit, but that’s not important. What is important is that I have a friend I love dearly and will always be there for, no matter what happened to him. I just hope he knows that!
Well before I met Smiles, I had been chatting with a guy I met on Grindr for some time. He was a feisty one, and I had a hard time locking him down for a date.
One thing you should know about me. If you ever give me your number, count on me having it forever. I don’t delete anyone. Whenever I add someone new from Adam4adam.com, Grindr, Manhunt or OKCupid, I note in their name how I met them. I ask them immediately to send me a pic to attach to the profile so I can keep them straight. If I meet them and don’t think there is potential or I find they aren’t worth my time, I add an X in front of their name so they go to the bottom of my contact list. It’s a system I’ve developed, and it works quite well.
When I broke up with Smiles, I went back through all the guys I hadn’t Xed. It certainly wasn’t a long list, and I’m sure the guys had long forgotten about me. However, it was worth a shot. I had nothing to lose. I’d simply remind them who I was. If they were still interested, great! Mr. Feisty was among this company.
Surprisingly, when I reminded him of who I was, his tone was very different from the last we texted. He was much more open to meeting me and far more playful than three months prior. We got caught up on what was going on over the past three months over text.
I did learn that he met someone in December, and they’d been dating since. However, he was willing to meet up for a drink as friends.
Now, I know he said we’d meet as just friends, but that’s not what he really meant, I’m sure. He was keeping his options open. He wanted to manage my expectations going into our “date,” but he was also leaving himself the opportunity if he liked me to see me again. I was okay with all this and was certainly up for the challenge. My game face was on. Now we were introducing something into the dating game I’d missed from my life since I swam in college — Competition. I could put up a fight with the best of them. I was going to show him how great of a guy I was, and he was going to like it.
He’d been traveling that weekend, and I happened to catch him on his way back into the city in the car from south Jersey. We went back and forth for quite some time. I was once again shocked at the night-and-day difference in his correspondences from the last time we chatted. We figured out a night to grab a drink after work. I went down to meet him in the West Village at Jeffery’s Grocery.
When I arrived, he was wearing a baseball cap and no glasses. This was quite different from the picture he’d sent me. The reason I kept trying to talk to him so much was because the picture was very sexy. I found him very attractive. The man standing before me was attractive, but not like the picture.
We both ordered a beer. He’d chosen one of those odd places that has beers on tap I’d never heard of. I had no idea what color my beer was going to come in. The conversation was tough to break into. He wasn’t being very friendly. If anything, he was being combative. I got the feeling he was being defensive the whole time like he was getting a bad review at work. He never added much to the conversation. He would answer my question fully, but never sparked the next topic of conversation. It was very uncomfortable.
At one point the topic of Facebook came up. He went off! To say he hates it is an understatement. He loathes it, and made it quite known. But, somehow me managed to spare me from being a part of the idiots whining about their lives on there. Somehow I wasn’t one of the, and I wasn’t supposed to be insulted. I respected his opinion of the site, but he didn’t respect mine. He just seemed so angry. I was so turned off and couldn’t wait to leave.
We talked about the dating world. Usually on a date when you start to talk about the physical act of dating, you’ve reached the end. There’s nothing to talk about between you anymore. If you reach this topic, it’s because the only thing you have in common is that you’re doing this with many other people who it didn’t work with either. He told me about a few of his long-term partners. I was jealous he was able to find guys he could call his partner — and more than one. I told him about my worst date ever (until this one), and he couldn’t believe I didn’t leave. He told me he wouldn’t have had the patience to last five minutes with the guy.
However, it was obvious he wasn’t interested in me. That was evidently clear when the bartender asked if we’d like another, and he said he was done. This date wasn’t even entertaining. It was simply painful. I got absolutely nothing out of it beyond the knowledge I wanted nothing to do with this guy.
We paid our tab and left. We were heading in the same direction, so we walked together a block, said our goodbyes, and I walked away never looking back…
In unrelated news, I came across this video from my fellow blogger, http://www.ty-curious.com/. He shared it with me, and I think it’s spectacular. Totally safe for work! Hope you like it! Take the time to check out his blog too. Great guy!
He described his drunken night involving too much Patron and a lost iPhone. He hadn’t had a chance to track it down, so I offered my assistance to make some phone calls for him. He was grateful, but had it under control. While he described his night, I described my time out in the sticks with no power or technology. “Yeah… It was a real Amish paradise,” I said.
Once again, I had to facilitate plans with him. He typed, “Okay. Off to go get food. I’m starved.” I quickly replied, “What are you doing later?” I knew it would be difficult getting ahold of him the second he signed off for the day. It’d been a while since I’d seen him, and I was anxious to do so. “No plans, although I may go back to the bar tonight for a Halloween thing,” he declared. I wish he had the same desire to see me to invite me without provocation, but I’ll take what I can get. “Wanna try to get together later?” I asked.
“Jump on the bike and come over and have brunch with me,” he finally stated. I explained the bike was snowed in with a dead battery, but I told him I’d meet him for brunch. I quickly made my way into the city to meet him at the Christopher Street PATH station. I arrived well before him and waited for him to show. I couldn’t call to find out what was keeping him, so I tried to occupy myself with my phone.
When he finally arrived, I wasn’t greeted with a kiss. I could have initiated the situation myself, but again, I was still in the mindset to play a little hard-to-get. We walked to a nice brunch spot neither of us have tried before, Barbuto. It was great. We got a nice seat next to the kitchen, which in most situations is a bad thing, but in this case, was entertaining.
Smiles ordered a beer after wavering between that and a bloody mary to help cure his hangover, and I ordered a glass of red wine. We took the time waiting for the food to arrive to catch up with each other. He was a little quiet, but I had plenty of stories to tell from my time home. We talked a bit about his family as well, and I started to get a better picture of the dynamic going on there.
Our food arrived, and we were both very pleased with the results. After we paid our tab, we decided to walk around a bit since the weather was so gorgeous. We walked to Doma Coffee Shop to grab coffees while we walked around. We had no plan for our day. After we grabbed caffeine, he turned to me and asked what I wanted to do. I told him I was just happy to be out, and it didn’t matter to me what we did. We started to walk around aimlessly. When we came upon Pleasure Chest sex shop, he suggested we pop in. This wasn’t the first time walking into a sex shop with him. I was game.
We looked at all the toys in the place and even asked one of the workers there to explain one of the feminine toys to us. We had more than a few laughs as we perused the store.
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around SoHo looking for hats to replace the one he lost. I was happy to spend the day with him. We did some shopping for other things while we searched for hats. While I was checking out to pay for the flannel shirt I picked up, I could see in his eyes he was exhausted. He was fading fast. He suggested we go back to his place to take a nap. I myself wasn’t feeling very sleepy, but I rather liked the idea of napping with him.
We got back to his place and climbed into bed. I put on my new flannel and got comfortable. Surprisingly, I passed out rather quickly. He, on the other hand had a hard time falling asleep.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. After about an hour, we were both awake. He turned to face away from me, so I decided to make a move. I engulfed him in my arms and spooned with him. After some time passed, I gently began caressing him all over and slid my hand between his thighs. I began massaging him until he turned his head back to kiss me. It was on — FINALLY! Things only got more passionate from there. It wasn’t long before he pulled out a condom, put it on me, and climbed on top. I was finally getting my turn as top dog (even though I was on the bottom). The sex was good, and I enjoyed having sex facing him with the lights on. However, once again, he finished, and I wasn’t able to.
Embarrassment came flooding in. I was very attracted to him, and I enjoyed the sex, but something underlying wasn’t allowing me to relax and fully enjoy the moment. I was very close, but I just couldn’t get over that last hump (no pun intended). This wasn’t the first time this happened, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier to deal with.
After sex, we both showered and cleaned up. He had plans to meet friends at his favorite restaurant to say goodbye to a bartender friend who was leaving for another restaurant. I was a little curious why he didn’t extend an invitation, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. We made some progress, and I wanted to concentrate on the positive. I was doing my best to play hard-to-get, but I really liked him. I wanted this to continue. I wanted to get to know him more. I wanted to be closer to him physically. I wanted him.
We got dressed and walked towards the PATH and Extra Virgin, where he was headed. When we reached a crossroads, we said goodbye with a quick kiss and went on our separate ways.
Later that night, I got a message from him complaining about having to go to the bar to see if his phone was found. I sympathized with him and wished him luck.
When he got back from the bar, he messaged again to tell me he had no luck. I felt bad for him, but selfishly, all I could think about was how hard it was going to be to get ahold of him without a phone. The next couple of days would pose an interesting challenge.