Posts Tagged brush teeth
It was the middle of July in NYC, and while many might find the thought of that heat taxing, I’ve always enjoyed the summertime. People are out during all hours of the day and night. The city comes alive because people are willing to spend more of their time outdoors.
Tuesdays are never particularly good days. You’re still three days away from the weekend, and you don’t have the benefit of being refreshed from the pervious weekend. After a long Tuesday at work, I made my way to CK‘s apartment. He was wrapping up at his office, so I expected we would be arriving around the same time. I was looking forward to seeing him and relaxing. What better way to end a Tuesday than relaxing and watching the sunset from the rooftop of his New York high-rise on the banks of the Hudson River?
We dropped our bags and immediately took the elevator to the penthouse floor. A few others share the same thinking we did, and they were enjoying the days final rays with a few cocktails and some light-hearted conversation. CK and I made our way to the far side of the roof and swapped stories about our days. Through the course of our conversation, I learned he had some work left to do for the evening. It just so happened to be my expertise, so I offered to help when we finally made our way back downstairs. I told him this would have to wait until after we ate dinner of course because I was starving. As the last few beams of light disappeared behind the buildings on banks of the Hudson River in New Jersey, we exchanged a romantic kiss and made our way back downstairs.
We agreed upon ordering in instead of cooking, especially since CK still had work to do. “Sushi it is!” he exclaimed. While we waited, he worked on his presentation while I worked on a blog post in front of the TV. We paused when the food came so we could eat, but once we were properly fed, it was right back to work. I put a little work into his presentation while he proofread my post, pausing to show him a few tips I’d learned along the way myself.
It was a really nice night. We’d fallen into this routine finally, and I was really enjoying it. We were a couple, and there was no fighting. When the good times came, I genuinely appreciated them. I was beginning to wonder if we were a Ronnie and Sammi kind of couple for a little while there (Couldn’t resist the Jersey Shore reference there). That was a scary thought. I didn’t want to be the couple who constantly fought. We loved each other far more than that.
When we’d done enough work for the night, CK asked if he could put on his beloved Rachel Maddow, and I begrudgingly agreed. I wasn’t thrilled with the thought, as I grew more and more tired of her nightly hour-long program. I follow politics pretty closely and follow the Nightly News religiously every night, but I didn’t think anyone needed that much politics in their life. That Tuesday night, it was irrelevant what I wanted because my body wanted to go to sleep. I quickly dozed off on the couch while CK drank in his liberal political commentary.
When I finally woke, it was much later, and I suggested we go to bed. I could see CK was tired, and it was obvious I’d had enough with the day. We made our way to his room and slid into bed. I didn’t even make the pit stop to brush my teeth. I’m not sure why I was so exhausted, but I’m pretty sure I was asleep before my head came to rest on the pillow.
It was late in the morning, but I was still reeling from our late-night romp. I could only dream every time would be like that from there on out. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When I woke him with my kisses, he ran his hand down my torso until he noticed my morning excitement. He grabbed hold and squeezed, expressing his delight in his discovery. He pulled the sheets down, followed shortly by my boxer briefs. As his head bobbed up and down between my legs, I let out moans of pleasure. What a way to wake up!
Apparently, neither of us got enough the night before. We were both still excited about how amazing it was. It made me excited and hard just thinking about it. We both wanted a sequel.
He climbed on top of me, and we began passionately kissing. Of course, things escalated from there. It wasn’t long before I had him on his back, and I was deep inside him. The sex was great that morning. It wasn’t quite like the epic romp we had the night before, but it was great. We flipped, and he had his way with me.
When we finished, while we laid in the bed together, he took hold of my head and said, “[O.G.A.A.T.], I love you.” Even though I suspected it was coming, nothing could have prepared me for that moment. No man had ever told me they loved me before. I knew he meant it. I stared deep into his eyes — Deep into the eyes of the man I loved too. “I love you too, Babe,” I added. We hugged strongly and kissed passionately. It was an incredible moment, and I began to cry a little. He reacted by comforting me. I think he was a little panicked. He didn’t know how to deal with that, but that didn’t really matter. We were in love. That was all that mattered.
Because of this and the sex, we were very late for our plans to meet P on the pier. When showered up, ate something and packed our bags for the pier. P was there waiting for us when we arrived. We apologized for being delayed and hinted at the reason. She gave a giddy laugh and scolded us.
P and CK decided to hit up one of the food trucks/ice cream trucks after a while. They came back with all sorts of things and an ice cream sandwich for me. While they were gone, I played with P’s dog, Baby, and I texted the rest of my friends to see who was up for a day on the pier. A few responded explaining they’d be on their way shortly.
I told the other two everyone’s whereabouts and plans. CK asked about my sister, but I told him she hadn’t responded to my text. He was very concerned with her perception of him. They’d only met for a short while at the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival a few weeks earlier. Even when prompted, she still had no opinion. This worried him.
After some time, my friend G joined us. I also got ahold of D and his girlfriend. They were in the city for brunch, but they would join us on their way back home.
CK and I decided we wanted to have some refreshing cocktails to go with our small picnic of snacks. Just as D and his girlfriend were arriving, we made our way to the liquor store to get some prosecco. I had a great idea to mix this with a few flavors from Rita’s Italian Ice.
While we walked, CK and I discussed him meeting my parents. They were coming into the city in early June for a Broadway show and dinner. I wanted him to meet them. I invited him to the dinner a few days earlier. I explained to him my sister’s reaction to his invitation, as well as my parents. My parents had no issue, but my sister thought it was too soon. In telling CK this, I realized I made a big mistake. He immediately expressed to me, “OKAY! Now, I’m definitely not coming!”
“WHAT!?” I protested. I was not happy with that. I was very excited for him to finally meet my parents. I’d met his mother, and it went swimmingly. On top of this, he meant a lot to me. I wanted my parents to know this. They’d never met any of the guys I’d dated in the past. In my protest and explanation, I think I was able to bring him back around.
We grabbed two bottles of prosecco and made our way to Ritas. We got watermelon and mango peach ice to mix with the prosecco. We planned to make refreshing summer drinks for all.
As we walked back to the pier, he still didn’t give up on the fact my sister wasn’t joining us. He was harassing me to invite her, but because of her snarky email telling me I shouldn’t invite my boyfriend to dinner, on top of other things, I was annoyed with her. Then I checked my phone when I went to invite her and realized I’d already done so when I reached out to the others. She didn’t respond. I told CK this, and his guilt was alleviated.
When we got back, we shared our drinks with everyone in improvised vessels since we forgot to get cups. Everyone was talking and having fun. CK was fitting in nicely. I loved seeing him with my friends and how he interacted with them. He passed my friend test swimmingly. I care a lot about them, and if he could’t hang with them, it wouldn’t last. He was able to hold his own and impressed me to no end.
We decided to plant ourselves on the couch and watch Immortals for the evening. We ate dinner and cuddled on the couch until it was time to head back into the city to his place. We didn’t plan for him to stay over. It was very late, but he had nothing for work the next day. Since he was close to my office it only made sense to spend the night there.
We got to his apartment and got ready for bed immediately. I brushed my teeth and climbed in between the sheets. It wasn’t long before I dozed off, but I was thrilled to be in his arms. I never got tired of sleeping with him, and hopefully, there would be infinite nights in the future we spent the same way.Follow @onegayatatime
When I got home from my dinner date with Smiles, I sent him a text asking if I could spend the following night with him at his place. I wasn’t sure if he’d already passed out, but I never got a response. I was hoping he’d answer me before I left for work in the morning so I knew if I should bring clothes for work the next day.
My office party was that Wednesday night at the Greenwich Village Country Club. We weren’t able to bring guests, but I was hoping I could see Smiles following the party. I wasn’t all that into it and was willing to leave early if need be.
Wednesday morning arrived, and I still had no answer. I decided to be on the safe side and bring clothes regardless. Maybe he’d answer me midday. When I didn’t get an answer, I asked the question again in a text.
He responded with an apology. He didn’t realize he didn’t respond the night before. “Yes. You can spend the night.” I explained the party, and he told me he had happy hour plans with his wealthy client friend and his partner.
For me, the office party was not all fun. Every year I get wrangled in to help with a few elements of the night. I performed my duties and then had fun drinking and dancing with my coworkers. It was a really good time — Better than I expected. However, I was more looking forward to seeing Smiles.
I texted him to see what he was up to. If he was still out, I was going to meet up with him. He told me he was wrapping up drinks and heading home shortly. I told him I would be leaving the party shortly as well and would come by.
I said my goodbyes and collected my coat. I wasn’t that far from his apartment, so I decided to walk. While I walked, I called his phone just to make sure he was home. I called about 10 times in a row with no answer. I sent text messages and heard nothing back as well. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I decided to continue on to his place. Finally, just as I was nearing his block, he picked up. His phone was on silent in the other room, but he was home.
We talked about happy hour and the party while we hopped into bed. I undressed and hopped on “my side” of the bed, and he slid into his side.
Just recently, I made the switch back to briefs periodically. I decided I looked good in them since they showed off my legs — The same legs Smiles loved to compliment. So I knew what I was doing when I laid on my back in just briefs while talking to him. We chatted a bit before he made a big move. My seduction worked.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some… As I laid on my back in my briefs, he started groping my crotch as he rolled over partially on top of me to make out. This was a bit out of character for Smiles, but I like it. Apparently he liked what he saw and went for it. I could get used to that.
Things got more heated and passionate and the clothes came off. I thought this was going to be the extent of our romp in the sheets, but apparently he was ready to escalate things. He proposed sex. I was a little apprehensive because he was still recovering from surgery. I didn’t want to further injure him. He detailed his limitations; he couldn’t top and he couldn’t put his legs up. I was still worried I may hurt him, but if he was good for it, I was game.
With that, he put a condom on me, and he climbed on top. It didn’t take long before I lost it. I’d been drinking the better portion of the night, and that really wasn’t helping at the moment. “I always lose you in this position,” he said. I found that ironic, because that was the position Broadway and I so often found ourselves in.
“Have you ever done poppers? he asked. I told him I’d never done them myself, but I’d witnessed them used. He told me it increased blood-flow and would produce one of two effects. Either it would make the problem worse or it would solve it. I figured it was worth a shot, so I agreed to partake.
He opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out a small vial. He held it up to my nose as I inhaled. Sadly, it had a negative effect.
“Let’s try one more thing. Stand up. It may help the circulation,” he told me. So I did what I was told. Magically, it worked. He turned, and I pressed my chest against his back. He lubed me up and bent over the bed, and we went at it. Finally, we were having great sex, even if it did get off to a rocky start. Apparently, he also was enjoying it as he finished on the floor. Just as he did, he turned around and said, “I wish I could make you cum.”
And it was over… I was close to finishing, but him pointing that out to me made me lose it immediately. My mind switched over immediately.
He walked to the shower, and I laid in the bed. I wanted to hop in the shower, but that wasn’t physically possible based on his setup. I thought we could have more fun and maybe I would finish. When he came back, I took off his towel and pulled him into the bed. I told him not to say things like that because it was a sure fire way to make sure I didn’t finish with him.
We cuddled for a bit, just laying in each others’ arms. Just as he was about to get up to go brush his teeth, I asked him if I could ask another question. I wanted to ask him where we stood. I wanted to know what I was to him. However, as he walked away, he responded, “No.”
I was a little crushed. I went from being so happy to finally be having great sex to utter disappointment. How was I supposed to be in a relationship with him if I couldn’t express how I was feeling.
He came back, and I was already prepped for bed. I curled up facing the wall ready for sleep. I wanted him to read my body language and realize how much I closed off, but I don’t know if he got the hint.
That night I had a dream about Smiles. I specifically remember him in the dream saying to me, “You know I like you, right?” It was the reassurance I wanted in reality, but this was a figment of my imagination. It was just that – A dream.
For the rest of the night, I didn’t sleep well. I tossed and turned like the inner turmoil I so wanted to release.Follow @onegayatatime
When I woke up in the morning, I had little recollection of the night before, even leaving the bar. I could only remember a flash of about ten seconds of sex, and I actually remembered enjoying it. It was a scary feeling.
As the morning progressed, I didn’t let on that I blacked out the night before. I was hoping Smiles would divulge enough details for me to start piecing things together. I had so much to drink, I was still drunk when I woke that morning.
He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to lean off the bed to retrieve my boxers and put them on.
I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up as best I could. I tried to fix my hair, but it was no use. I made a comment to Smiles about this, and he noted it was because I showered the night before. I showered the night before? I did not remember that AT ALL!
I wanted nothing more than to brush my teeth. Of course, Smiles didn’t have an extra toothbrush. I squirted toothpaste on my finger and brushed my teeth Survivor style. This was turning out to be a pretty sh*tty morning. I asked Smiles if I could borrow a t-shirt instead of my button-down from the night before.
Smiles detailed what he wanted to do with his day. He had a lot of boxes in his apartment he wanted to get into storage. He was able to procure a storage unit across the street from his apartment. It was necessary to transport his belongings from a storage unit in Harlem. I volunteered to help him since I had no plans for the day and was looking forward to spending more time with him. I had no idea how big a mistake that would be.
We began our journey at Starbucks. He ordered his favorite “salty pretzel drink,” and I ordered a coffee, a brownie, and pound cake. I was starving. We quickly snagged a cab to stay on schedule and sped up the FDR Drive. The cab wasn’t able to drive all the way to the storage facility because the New York City Marathon route was between us and the facility. We arrived at the storage unit just before his appointment only to find that the storage shuttle he booked was unable to make it to the facility. The trek uptown was for not.
We walked to the nearest subway stop downtown, and hopped aboard. At this point, my hangover was kicking in hardcore. I was feeling very sick. With every subway stop, I climbed deeper and deeper into the misery hole. Smiles was trying to talk to me, and I was giving him “um hm’s.” When we were about three stops from getting off, I started to feel extremely nauseous. I was not going to vomit in front of Smiles and in front of everyone else on the subway. I was going to make it, even if I had to run to a trash can on the street. I used all my being to keep it down and not give it up. Smiles could see I was not doing well, and suggested we hit up a bodega for a bottle of water. The minute I entered the fresh air, I felt infinitely better, but I still wasn’t 100%. I downed a bottle of water and soldiered on.
We walked around a bit and did some window shopping before stopping to grab lunch at Lucky Strike. I ordered a sandwich, but I wasn’t able to eat it. Smiles was very sweet all day long trying to take care of me. He gave many suggestions for ailments, but many of them involved liquor. No matter how small the amount, the mere thought was triggering my gag reflex. I asked the bartender to box up my lunch so I could eat it later in the day when I was feeling better. He provided me with some relief by offering peppermint essential oil to rub on my temples and under my nose. Surprisingly, it worked quite well.
We walked back to Smiles’ apartment so I could gather my things to head home. It was clear I was no longer a human being. I was a mere shell of a man. I kissed Smiles goodbye and walked north to the Christopher Street PATH station.
I went home and curled up on the couch and watched TV while I contemplated my recent life choices. After about an hour I was able to eat my croque-monsieur, and it was delicious. Hopefully my day would end better than it started.Follow @onegayatatime