Posts Tagged cheating
It had arrived. Although this would be my third year “participating,” I was legitimately scared. I wasn’t sure why it was so scary, but honestly, I was petrified for so many reasons.
My first interaction with Pride Weekend was a mistake. I was making my way to Governor’s Island for a polo match with my family when we found ourselves “stuck” in the parade route. The following year was the first year I was out when the weekend came around. It wasn’t pleasant as I witnessed my relationship crumble before my eyes like an out-of-body experience. I missed the parade that year, but I got a sampling of the other aspects of the festivities.
My fear was grounded mainly in the unknown. While I am a gay man, I do not participate in the typical gay culture. I’ve never been a big fan of gay clubs and what goes on there. I come from a background of a traditional relationship. In the gay world, that is like finding a diamond in the rough. The clubs seem to be the antithesis of this. They are a hot-bed of drugs, promiscuity and raunchy behavior. I know all gay men who go to bars don’t fit into this stereotype, but this stereotype is founded in truth. While I’ve been to a handful of gay clubs, and my comfort level was rising, I still had no idea what to expect. Never before had I been to a circuit party. I was venturing into the abyss, and this caused me incredible anxiety.
While I have learned to let go of the men in my past, I still carry the scars of my relationship with them. They’ve all hurt or used me in some way, shape or form. My biggest fear in life is being alone, and this fear is fed by thoughts of cheating, which is birthed from my baggage. The idea of CK with another man broke my heart. I had clear definitions of cheating, but there were worse things floating through my imagination — Like cheating in a form I feel is unfaithful, but the offender does not.
My relationship with CK was building a great foundation, however, the cement was still wet. We were only dating two months and ten days — Very young for any relationship. In the first month, I had strong suspicions I wasn’t the only man entering his bed. Things didn’t always line up and some of the clear indications were there, however, our relationship was still just forming. I knew there would be a transition period. While he told me he was only interested in me, and I was the only man entering his bed, I was aware how we met. I was also aware of his intentions before we even met through his first major slip-up on Grindr. I couldn’t expect monogamy from the first night — That wasn’t realistic.
While I was fairly understanding and looked the other way early on, I was not going to tolerate infidelity as our relationship progressed and strengthened. For starters, my heart wouldn’t be able to handle the pain, and lastly, it wasn’t safe for my health. I needed to trust him to be faithful. Outside the heartbreak, frankly, we were having unprotected sex. We’d been tested, but there are no guarantees. I trusted him with my life, literally, and if he was sleeping with other men, he was treating my life carelessly.
I sincerely had a feeling his intentions had evolved, but I couldn’t be sure how he would react when faced with temptation. I hoped I was the only man for him. As a result, I was petrified for the life of our relationship. I’d watched my relationship with N publicly combust the previous year, and I didn’t want a repeat.
I’m sure many of you reading think I am overreacting. It’s just a party… It’s just a parade… It’s just a weekend… Well, not to me. To me, it was a litmus test for the strength of my love for CK. I didn’t want that love to be tested, and I didn’t want to have to make a decision that could end my relationship with CK. He was my Superman. He was my world. If I lost him, my world would come crumbling down.
We had plans to go to a huge party at XL Friday night, Matinée circuit party Saturday, and the parade Sunday afternoon. I was venturing into this unknown abyss with faith and hope I could persevere. The thought of CK dropping X and losing control of his inhibitions with some other guy caused me great pain and panic attacks. The idea of another man’s hand groping his package caused me panic attacks. Picturing him dancing shirtless against another shirtless man caused me panic attacks. Every time these scenarios and many others entered my brain, my heart rate would increase drastically, I would start to sweat, and I would get light-headed.
All this added up to me being petrified and frustrated. When I asked CK what clothes I should pack to bring to his apartment for the weekend, and I didn’t get any cooperation or help. It all became overwhelming. To begin with, this wasn’t something I was looking forward to, and his lack of cooperation made me lose my sh*t. “Okay Babe. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Have fun tonight!” I said on the verge of tears as I hung up the phone on him.
I think that was the wake-up call CK needed. I don’t think he fully understood how much anxiety this all created for me. I voiced my frustrations for weeks leading up to Pride Weekend. I told him I was going out of my comfort zone, but I was willing to do it as long as I got some hand-holding. I needed help to get over this. It was just another fun weekend for him, but it was a big deal to me.
After a few minutes, he called me back. We discussed things a little more rationally, and CK’s tone changed. He finally realized I was struggling and tossed out the life-preserver. Now that I knew I had him in my corner, I was a little more relaxed, however, I still wasn’t completely comfortable. It was going to be a long, stressful and exhausting weekend both physically and emotionally. I bit down then and there, and braced for impact as I packed my bag and walked out the door.
The next morning, I woke up early to work out with CK in his rooftop gym. It was our first time up there, and we were finally going to workout together, or at least we both thought so. It turned out, we had different ideas of working out. While CK was on his cleanse, I too was trying to lose weight. That was only going to happen for me if I did cardio workouts. Lifting wasn’t going to help me shed any pounds, and that was the priority over bulking up. He wasn’t willing to join me for cardio, and I wasn’t willing to lift, so we worked out at the same time on opposite ends of the gym. When he finished, I was nearly done my three-mile run, sweating profusely from head to toe. I wanted to take off my shirt and use it as a sweat rag, but I wasn’t sure if that was P.C. in his gym, and there were others working out as well. When I finished, we rode the elevator back down to his place so we could shower and get ready for work.
As per usual, we showered together. This had become a regular thing for us. We rarely showered alone anymore. We weren’t always making out or having sex in there: It just seemed a better use of both our time to shower together. We were beginning to work out a system between us. Our routine was falling into place.
The one thing I slightly resented when sleeping over at his apartment was the lack of breakfast. It was getting expensive for me to continuously purchase breakfast every time I slept there. I made sure to provide him with the necessary items for breakfast, but we hadn’t seemed to get to that stage at CK’s apartment. I wasn’t going to make a stink about that. One thing at a time. I was happy he finally had all his boxes unpacked and a bed to be honest. Breakfast could be dealt with down the road.
We got ready and were out the door. We’d also managed to figure out we could commute together to work. Originally, he was walking to a different subway than I was, but after further investigation, I learned we could both catch the necessary subways from the same station, and it would be the same distance for CK. Every morning we walked together and said goodbye with a kiss on the platform. It was a simple routine, but I was already thoroughly enjoying our morning walk to work together.
That night, CK had to work late. I went home and went to free outdoor yoga on the pier in Hoboken with my roommate instead of CK. We were spending the night apart. He had to be at work early the following morning for a pitch. When I got home from yoga, I made dinner, watched TV and fell asleep in my bed alone after chatting with CK about his day.
I woke up early the next morning feeling lost. The man I loved wasn’t there. It was shocking how much of a difference it made having him in my bed. I didn’t sleep nearly as well as I did when he was present. It was like I was an infant all over again missing my mother’s heartbeat. I needed to feel him close to me to get a good night’s sleep. I forced myself to get out of bed and motivated myself for a nice morning run along the Hudson. I stopped to take pictures for Instagram of the city where I knew my boyfriend was still soundly sleeping.
I ran back home, finished getting ready and stopped by the allergist for my shot before heading to work. I was really committing to getting in shape and losing weight, so that afternoon, I took lunch at the gym. I wanted a six-pack again, and I wanted shoulders, arms and pecs I could be proud of again. When I finished, I was in a spectacular mood. I shot CK a text to remind him how much I love him. I was also horny from the endorphins running through my veins. I started to sext him, telling him all the things I wished I could do to him in the gym shower.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. That’s always been a fantasy of mine, however, I never had any desire to do it with complete strangers. In an ideal world, CK and I would go to the same gym. We’d walk in together, but not acknowledge each other while we were in the gym working out. When he was finished, he would head into to the lockers to shower. He’d strip down in front of me, not acknowledging my existence before strutting to the shower of his choice. I would follow just behind and slip into his shower stall and close the curtain behind me. We’d have sex under the hot water without causing too much commotion to attract attention from others. After finishing inside him, I would rinse off and leave the shower like nothing happened. He would finished washing up and recovering from our tryst while I got dressed and headed home like nothing happened to start making dinner. He would follow a few minutes behind, and the first time we would acknowledge each other would be at the door where I’d welcome him home from a hard day’s work at the office with a big kiss. We’d eat our dinner with big smiles knowing we have an epic sex-life. Some day…
So in shorter terms, I described this situation to him over text. When I first began, he thought I meant to text someone else. He must have thought I was cheating on him with someone at the gym. I assured him the texts were for him and reminded him how the conversation begane explaining that this was my fantasy. I also pointed out the irony of the situation and detailed how he was the one who sexted the wrong person, not me (just like the first day we started chatting and he wanted me to come over for sex).
That night, I had plans to see Porgy and Bess with my coworker, so I didn’t see him again. I think he felt a bit left out, but I’d been coworkers with this girl for over five years, and the two of us had never hung out outside work together. I also had to head to our Chelsea office to work early in the morning. I took the opportunity of being off the radar a bit to hit the gym again that afternoon, this time for a run on the treadmill. I began thinking about CK and I in the gym once again, but it would remain a fantasy.
When I finished work, I went to my volleyball game, came home to shower and made my way into the city to spend the night in CK’s bed. We’d spent a decent amount of time apart considering we’d been spending every waking minute together outside our workdays. I was thrilled to see him and even more ecstatic I was sleeping with him that night. After a late-night romp, we dozed off in each other’s arms. When we woke in the morning, we hit the gym once again. Alas, we worked out on opposites sides of the gym once again.
When we finished, we continued our routine of getting ready for work and were out the door. That night, after work, I ran home and grabbed my things for the weekend. We had a big weekend coming up, and I had to pack for many different options. It was EXTREMELY frustrating because I wasn’t sure what we’d be doing, I wasn’t going to be home again until Sunday at the earliest, and it was Pride Weekend. I asked CK for help on what to pack, and he was of no use. The fight was quickly escalating over the phone, and my frustration level was at its peak. I wasn’t used to going to gay events and circuit parties, and I was feeling a lot of pressure. This was a burden I’d been carrying around for weeks, and the moment of truth was arriving. This was going to be my first full Pride Weekend, and I had no idea what I was about to get myself into. I was scared sh*tless!…
That Tuesday, I woke to the sound of my alarm. I was going to go for a run, but the sound of my alarm wasn’t all I heard. It was raining outside. I turned off the alarm and looked out the window to see rain pouring down. I checked my phone to see if CK texted, but he hadn’t. Who knew what happened? I sure didn’t.
I wanted to text him when I got to work, but I decided against it. He knew where I was. He was the one who suggested plans that evening. He would be the one to hit me up and clue me in on those plans.
Finally, around noon I got a text: “Hey sexy.” I didn’t see it until a little later. I responded, “Hey. How was the rest of your night?” Apparently he’d gotten tipsy at the work event he called me from. He went home and passed out in all his clothes including his shoes. When he woke at 4:00am, he properly put himself to bed. The he apologized for not calling me back and asked how my night was. I mentioned my cancelled run, and he expressed interest in going for an early run with me sometime. Tthat would be the only way he’d do it since he’s not a morning person. I told him we’d both just stay in bed because I’d just be tempted to lie there with him.
I then asked him if we were still on for that night. “I’m game. What’s the plan?” he responded. I reminded him he set the plans, and I was waiting for the details. He decided he’d rather stay away from alcohol, and I asked what he wanted to do instead. He was eating his lunch, so he asked if he could get back to me later. 5:00 rolled around, and I still hadn’t heard back from him. I certainly wasn’t feeling very special anymore. That’s when the phone rang. I was heading into a meeting, so I sent him a text. When my meeting ended, I called him but got no answer. At 6:00, I finally got a call back. He was heading home and wanted a quiet night in with me. I wasn’t opposed, but I wasn’t thrilled either. I was beginning to wonder if it was all about sex with him. He needed time to straighten up his apartment, so I made my way over there around 7:00.
When I got to his apartment, I stood in the hall waiting for quite some time before he answered the door. I hadn’t called to tell him I’d arrived. A small part of me was surprising him on purpose. He just happened to be getting out of the shower.
He greeted me with a giant hug and a big kiss. I removed my shoes and got comfortable. He finished toweling off and joined me on the bed. We cuddled a bit until he asked me if everything was alright. I lied and said everything was fine. He pointed out I seemed short in my text messages. Big kudos to him for noticing the subtleties in my mood. We continued to hug until we discussed what we wanted to do for the evening. He mentioned watching the sunset, and I told him that’s exactly where my head was.
I had ulterior motives. When we got to the roof, I would find the appropriate time to bring up my concerns that arose since Sunday. He also asked if I wanted to smoke, and I shook my head yes. “Are you sure everything is cool?” he added. I told him I was short in my texts cause I was actually working all-day and apologized. I didn’t really think I was being all that short. We smoked and finally made our way up to the roof about a half hour later, Coronas in hand.
When we got to the roof, we continued snuggling on the outdoor couch. We talked about the surrounding buildings in an “I’m high” kinda way. The conversation never really had any direction. Then again, he brought up my mood and asked if everything was alright. I didn’t think I was being that obvious with him, but I also wasn’t being myself. That’s for sure. I didn’t know how to let myself be free with him anymore. I started to close myself off to ensure I wouldn’t get hurt. I was shoving distance in there with both fists.
I finally told him how I was feeling. I explained how I thought his sentiments came out of nowhere on Sunday. I told him I thought it was a bit early to have that conversation, but now that it’s been had, a few issues were brought to top of mind. I addressed my feelings regarding him being on Grindr and how that made me feel. I told him I felt as if I wasn’t enough for him. I told him I didn’t need to be on there, and while I wouldn’t dictate to him to not be as well, I just didn’t understand why he felt he needed to still explore it.
I was having a hard time expressing my feelings, but I think I got the point across eventually. I told him because of what he told me, I was afraid of getting hurt. I wasn’t able to be myself and give him the real me if I felt vulnerable to pain. I wanted to be myself with him. I wanted to give him the real me. I needed to feel safer than I did. “Since meeting you, you’ve made me feel incredibly special. Since you told me what you did on Sunday, I no longer felt special,” I told him.
He looked a bit shocked. “The last thing I want to do is make you worried or scare you. What I said to you on Sunday was not calculated. It was just how I felt at the time. You are incredibly special, and that hasn’t changed. You are… an aspirational boyfriend. I’d be insane to do anything to lose you. Baby, I think you’re incredible. Part of me knows how amazing you are and wants to dive in full force, but another part of me wonders if I still want my freedom. I’ve already started thinking of you less as something to schedule in my life and more as just part of my life.”
I wasn’t expecting him to tell me he wouldn’t hook up with other guys and tell me we were exclusive. I think I just needed him to know how I felt and where my head was. I could see in his eyes that he understood what was in front of him. I would still be patient and let him figure it out on his own. I just wasn’t going to find myself in another Smiles relationship. He needed to know that eventually the Grindr would have to go, or I would have to go. He needed to know that I wanted a boyfriend and not a friend with benefits. I needed to hear from him I wasn’t just a hookup cuddle buddy. I needed to know I was different from the other guys he slept with from Grindr.
We kissed and embraced. I felt a lot better. It was really starting to weigh me down. I think I handled it very well to suit my needs. A large part of me wanted to ignore the conversation we had in the Sonic parking lot. The other part of me, my constantly overactive brain, wanted me to get some closure on the topic. I think I found the sweet spot.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. After kissing and embracing, he began to get a bit frisky. He started to undo my pants. There was high risk here. We were in plain sight of the doorway leading to downstairs. One neighbor had already come up to the roof once to smoke. He began blowing me, always keeping one ear out for signal of someone approaching. I undid his pants and began pleasuring his endowment with my hand. Finally, paranoia got to him, and he suggested we move to the far corner of the roof, out of sight of the door.
When we got over there, he pulled my pants down to my ankles and did the same with his. He was pleasuring himself while going down on me. He edged me many times, getting quite close to making me finish. I was picturing my seed all over his chest, just as he wanted it. Alas, I wasn’t able to fulfill his wish. I came close many times, but just couldn’t get over the hump. He stood and suggested we move downstairs. We got dressed and made our way downstairs. I was incapacitated and had a hard time descending the stairs. My legs were jello from the full-body orgasm he gave me. I may not have had the release, but I still received all the pleasure. He laughed at my struggle.
As we walked down the stairs, I realized he had a slight exhibitionist streak in him. The stunt on the roof, sex with the blinds always open… I had a bit of this in me, but in smaller quantity. He was expanding my comfort zone.
When we got downstairs, the fooling around continued until we took a break to order Thai food. It was 10:30. Once that was taken care of, we had sex. I had the first chance on top, and then we swapped. It wasn’t long before he finished all over my back. He was out of breath and in a daze from how amazing it was. I knew I was having a blast, but I was thrilled our time in bed was so enjoyable for him.
Like clockwork, the food arrived. We settled into bed and ate while we watched Smash. I convinced him he needed to see the show so I could talk to him about it. He really enjoyed it, so much so we watched two episodes, eventually switching to dessert. I passed out half way through the second episode. When it was over, we turned out all the lights and went to sleep. I was happy to have the weight off my back after telling him my concerns. I felt comfortable with him once again. I fell asleep with an amazing man in my arms and a smile across my face from ear to ear.Follow @onegayatatime
Clark Kent and I tried to find a way to be together over the week, but it just didn’t seem to work out. We tried Wednesday, but he had to work late on a pitch. Thursday was out because he was supposed to be going to the hospital to visit his friend who just had his hip replaced. He didn’t even get to do that because work had him there late. We settled on spending Friday together once again.
Friday morning when I arrived at work, two of my team members were walking out of the building. I asked them where they were headed, and they told me to check out the shuttle flyover on the Hudson. I had nothing on my plate for the morning, so I joined them. We staked out a spot and waited for the shuttle to arrive. I realized this was something CK would probably love to see, so I texted him asking if he was checking it out. He worked near the Hudson River and could be there within five minutes. He was completely unaware, so I told him to hurry up.
Unfortunately, he missed it, so I sent him pictures. I made my way back to work and got started with another slow day at the office. I spent a better portion of the afternoon working on the blog to get things squared away for the rest of the Friday releases.
In the middle of the afternoon, CK texted me. “How’s your day going baby?” I told him it was great. “I scoped out the shuttle, and now I’m out to lunch with one of our old interns and the rest of my team. I also have some fun news to share with you.” I learned that morning; one of the girls from my team was going to work at his agency. I couldn’t wait to tell him since she was one of my favorite coworkers. “I could use some fun news,” he added. I replied and told him I was “so excited to see you!”
He replied, “Me tooooooooo. Can’t wait :). What do you wanna do tonight baby? I’m home. Left office early. Gonna go with [his friend] to see [his other friend] in Brooklyn. Can we please do something free/cheap, yet priceless/memorable? That’s the sweet spot I’d like to hit. Well, one of the sweet spots… and by no means the sweetest ;).”
I quickly responded, “Yes. Glad to hear you get to go see him! How bout movie/Revenge night on the couch? You can come to my city oasis. Popcorn, wine, ice cream…” He immediately shot back, “#purrrrrrrrfection. You have no idea how happy you just made me =].” And to add the icing on the cake, I told him, “And, I didn’t shave for you today.” He loved when I had stubble. He liked the way it felt against his skin and liked how I looked with scruff.
When he finished at the hospital and was walking to the subway, he called me. He spent more time there than he expected. His friend was released and they took him home to get him settled in. He needed to go home and freshen up, and then he’d make his way to me.
I’d been sitting around since 6:00 waiting for him to arrive. I prepped the fillet mignons and the chicken for the grill, peeled the carrots and put them in a pot, and I even baked a pineapple upside down cake. After that, I laid on the couch waiting for his call in my motorcycle gear. Around 10:15, I finally got a text from him. Apparently he wasn’t paying attention and rode the PATH back into the city to 33rd street. He was so engulfed in his book, he completely missed the stop.
I was slightly annoyed because I didn’t fully buy his story. The PATH doesn’t simply arrive at Hoboken and turn right back around. It sits there for at least a good ten minutes without moving. He was obviously doing something else before coming over. At 9:45, he tweeted, “I saw the movie before starting the book, and I gotta say, the adaptation translates incredibly well.” He was referring to the Hunger Games he was reading. He was supposed to be in Hoboken at 9:30. How was he tweeting from under the Hudson River? Sure, I was stalking him a little, but I was always waiting for him. I was trying to figure out where he was. He wasn’t aware I was checking out his Twitter account, and I wanted to keep it that way. If he was going to cut me off from Grindr access (he blocked me), maybe I could find another way to check in periodically. (Yes, I’m aware how psycho I sound!)
Finally, he made it. I arrived minutes after him to scoop him up on the motorcycle. No longer would we be taking the long way home. I was slightly annoyed and starving! I hadn’t even begun to cook yet.
When we parked the bike, I tore my helmet off and planted a big kiss on him. We continued to kiss on the street a few minutes before I persuaded him to come upstairs so I could work on dinner. I took everything to the grill and began to cook it while we lay in bed making out. When I started to strip his clothes off, he asked, “We’re going to have sex before we eat?” I explained things needed a little time to cook. “Not sex, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fool around first,” I added. With that I pounced right back on top of his naked body.
In the middle of making out I realized I needed to tend to the grill. I sprang out of bed, threw on a pair of shorts and ran outside. I caught it just in time before becoming a charred disaster. I gave CK a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to wear. We made our way to the kitchen and filled out plates. We sat on the couch and ate off the coffee table while we started Revenge. We’d already both seen it, but I was in the process of delofting my bed while doing so. Some of the show would still be fresh to me.
We spent the remainder of the night on the couch in front of the TV in each other’s embrace while the rest of my roommates and their friends prepared for a night on the town. It was such a nice change when they all vacated the apartment. We started to fool around a little on the couch, and eventually we made our way back to my bedroom, where some of the fun just began.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started slow, but things quickly progressed. Before long, I was penetrating him. He was incredibly loud and the window was open. I was expecting to hear one of the neighbors yell out. I was also afraid my roommate or her friend who was sleeping over would wake up. His moaning could have woken the building up. I was happy to learn the bed was holding up quite well and not making a ruckus this time. When he needed a break, the make out session resumed. Then things flipped and I found myself on my back with my legs in the air. Before long, he got excited and finished on my chest. I cleaned up, and we lay there a bit in each other’s embrace. “I really want you to shoot all over me like that,” he said. That was all it took. That psyched me out enough that all I could concentrate on was finishing. It was sure not to happen. After long, we were spooning. “Should I turn out the light?” he asked. With that, we dozed off intertwined like a pile of TV cables.Follow @onegayatatime
After my lukewarm date with the doctor, I was ready to get back out there in search for a man.
I’m happy to report, which I’m sure some of you may have suspected otherwise, I was doing a great job of staying off Grindr. Granted, it was a short period of time, but I was thoroughly proud of myself. I felt like I’d joined GA. Every day not having meaningless sex was another day of Grindr sobriety.
Tuesday after work, I arranged another date with Southern Drawl. The last date was a bit crazy. Footsie under the table. Shenanigans in the bathroom. I was curious if he’d be able to behave this time or would he be looking for another quick trip to the bathroom.
We texted during the day to lock things down. I proposed The Breslin. I’d always loved their food, their drinks and their ambiance. He shot the idea down because he said the place was always full of hipsters. I had always been a fan of Sala 19 in the Flatiron District, so I proposed we go there for dinner. It worked out well because it was halfway between our offices. He agreed.
I had to wait at work for him to finish. When he did, I made my way south to meet him. I met him on the street corner, and we walked to the restaurant.
Dinner was very nice. He was well-behaved, and the conversation was good. I told him about my allergist appointment, and he told me about his day. We talked frankly about our last date. We discussed what went on. I learned he’d never done anything like that before. I was also learning about the guys he’d dated since living in New York City. When we originally spoke on the phone, I was under the impression he was new to the gay world. I thought he’d never really dated anyone before. Now, I was learning about all the guys he dated in NYC, as well as the guy he dated through college that he said I so strongly reminded him of and resembled. It was a bit unsettling.
In the middle of dinner, he told me he’d ended things with the guy he was seeing. He explained they’d only been seeing each other for two weeks, and things were never that strong. When I probed him to ask if he left the other guy because he met me or if he did it because he wasn’t satisfied with the previous guy, he told me it was the latter, but part of it was also due to meeting me. A big red flag went off in my head. Would he leave me for a better model?
I still wasn’t sure about him. I liked talking to him. I liked being with him. He was smart. He was nice. He wasn’t flamboyant, however, I wondered if maybe he was too “straight.” He was a bit homophobic. I’m not the most open about my sexuality. I’m not out to everyone at work. I don’t openly advertise my sexuality. However, if he wasn’t comfortable with himself, how could we be comfortable with each other. I couldn’t be sure about him. Was he right for me? I had no idea. Only more time could tell. I was keeping a distance as we moved forward. We had a connection, but was it strong enough to last? Was it what I wanted?
In our conversations, his southern entitlement shined through. It was an incredible turnoff. Where was the southern charm I’d seen so many times in movies. When I think of the ideal man, I think of Matthew McConaughey. He definitely has an ego and self-confidence, but he also exudes charm and sexuality. His confidence is not in your face, and he seems down-to-earth. Southern Drawl fit the other Hollywood archetype — The Southern plantation owner. He had an air or superiority that was hard to swallow. Many times, he laughed off these comments, making them seem like a joke, but I wondered if there was really something deep down that was more genuine. I wasn’t ready to date a snob. That $hit wouldn’t fly with me. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, and I’d already started calling him on it.
When we finished eating, we split the bill and walked north to the PATH station. I said goodbye to him ont he street with barely a hug. He was uncomfortable exchanging a kiss with me in front of a city of strangers. I wasn’t thrilled by that.
On my ride home, I questioned why I was continuing to see Southern Drawl. He was definitely interested in me, and I was still intrigued by him. I wasn’t ready to write him off just yet, but I didn’t see a lot of promise or potential. I would continue to see other men and continue to see him until I was ready to make a definitive decision.Follow @onegayatatime
Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!
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…Follow @onegayatatime