Posts Tagged cooking

His Mother’s Day

The day after my birthday, CK and I made plans for me to meet his mother while she was in town. I celebrated my birthday the day before without him, but I still managed to have fun. I was incredibly excited to see him. I was also incredibly honored to meet his mother. I couldn’t believe he felt comfortable introducing me to her exactly one month from the date we first met, however, we’d grown extremely close in that short period of time.

There was a plan for me to meet CK, his mother, and three of his friends at Essex and Beauty on the Lower East Side for brunch. It was Mother’s Day, so I knew wherever we were going was going to be a sh*tshow! I was slightly anxious. I was more nervous about meeting the one friend I’d never met before than I was about his mother. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t feel any pressure there. I was pretty relaxed about it. Either way, I was missing my Superman terribly.

I arrived a few minutes late for our reservation. CK and his mother were still in transport, but the three friends had already sat at the table. One of them came to the front to greet me and take me to the table. I’d met him before when we all went to see Avengers together. As we ascended the staircase to our table, he informed me of a problem in the kitchen. He mentioned something about a leak and having to shut the kitchen down. There was new immediacy to our plans.

Per usual, CK was running quite late. I learned they were in a cab, but they were on the other side of Manhattan, however, he shared the good news he finally found a new apartment. It wasn’t in Brooklyn. It wasn’t on the Lower East Side. It was in Hell’s Kitchen. I was thrilled!!

We learned they wouldn’t arrive in time for us to order, and one of the friends began to protest in uproar. He argued with the staff until he learned of the true nature of the problem. The maître d’ offered to walk us over to their sister restaurant, The Stanton Social to ensure we got a table and were served quickly.

On the walk over, we happened upon CK and his mother getting out of their cab. He was in the process of calling me. I said hi to him and was introduced to his mother. She wasn’t what I expected at all. I’m not sure what my expectations were, but she certainly surpassed them. She was gorgeous and very lively. I immediately loved her spirit and energy.

We continued to the other restaurant. Not only did we get a table quickly, we were also served champagne to start. They more than made up for the inconvenience. On top of that, I feel we upgraded restaurants, not downgraded.

His mother took the time to hug all the other boys and say hi. She knew two of them from Miami, where CK grew up, so there was some catching up to do. CK was rather reserved in regards to PDA. We didn’t kiss, but I got a hefty hug. He whispered in my ear how much he missed me. We held hands under the table nearly the entire meal.

It was very nice being with everyone. The conversation flowed, and there was rarely an awkward moment. Our food was excellent, and we all enjoyed our meal. I was worried I’d feel like an outsider, not because his friends wouldn’t include me, but because they all already knew each other. I was the new guy. I didn’t know the stories. I didn’t know the inside jokes. That would take time. Generally, until I’m comfortable, I get quiet. I was worried they would think I was antisocial, which clearly isn’t the case.

If they hadn’t done enough to ensure we had a great experience, our lovely waitress brought us a plate of complimentary donuts to make up for what happened at Essex and Beauty.

I really loved watching CK and his mother interact. She had a nickname she called him, and I found it adorable. They shared a lot of the same mannerisms. I watched her keep him in line (and made sure I took mental notes). They were incredible together, even with the hell they went through over that weekend to find him a new apartment. It was obvious the copious amounts of love they shared.

When we exited the restaurant, his mother returned to go to the bathroom. He took the opportunity to pull me in and give me the biggest kiss. It was quite a scene, but we didn’t care. His friends made comments, and he pointed out how he wouldn’t kiss me in front of his mother. Apparently, it made her slightly uncomfortable when he “flaunted his homosexuality.” I thought this was funny, because it’s the kind of thing I could hear coming out of my mother’s mouth.

I also learned that when I went to the restroom while we were eating, his mother expressed her approval to him. “He’s really cute,” he told me she added.

When she came back outside, we made plans to go back to his place and spend the rest of the evening on his roof watching the sunset. We stopped for a bottle of wine and some beers and went up to the roof with the batch of cookies I baked for his mother. Before heading up to the roof, CK and one of his friends were talking in the kitchen. That left myself and his mother in his living room to chat. I learned about all her dogs, as well as CK’s dog all living under her care. She told me how early she had to get up to take care of them the morning she flew out. We talked about what it takes to raise a dog and discussed CK’s desire to get a dog. He was constantly trying to take me shopping for a dog, but I couldn’t take care of one on my own. I wouldn’t have a dog until I lived with someone who would help me raise it. Maybe CK could fill that roll one day.

We spent a lot of time talking about cooking. CK’s friend was an avid cook, so we had a lot to chat about. I showed him my massive digital cookbook I created. I learned where CK inherited his lack of cooking skills. Apparently, his mother was a self-admitted non-chef. She barely cooked, so the two of them discussed their lack of skill in the kitchen, however, each had their specialty they could cook. I expressed my plan to teach CK how to cook, but ensure he wouldn’t cut his finger off again under my supervision.

After a while, a guy CK used to hook up with who lived in the building joined us. CK privately made a comment to me when we were downstairs how he may have seen us all through the window. He mentioned inviting him to join us, and I didn’t protest. My guard was up however. I had no idea how he’d treat me. After all, I was the one who got the man he had a crush on. They were almost roommates until it came to light he had a crush on CK, who told me he did not share the same feelings.

In the end, this guy was pretty cool. He wasn’t combative toward me in the slightest, and we actually got along. The conversation continued through the night. When this guy left, CK made an attempt to set him up with the friend who joined us from brunch. I really liked this guy. He seemed to get it. He was very realistic and had a great sense of humor. Of the friends I’d met so far, he was the one I felt I would get along with the best. When the old hookup left, CK’s friend called him to set up a date. This also killed two birds with one bullet. The old hookup would be tied up and would stay away from my man. Yes, I was getting territorial.

CK’s mother told us stories about him when he was a child, and I was really enjoying getting to know him, his mother and his friends. It was starting to get late, and CK and his mother still needed to get dinner. I needed to get home and get ready for work the next day. I too needed to eat something other than cookies. I said goodbye to CK’s mother with a big hug and CK walked me to the door.

We talked about how much we couldn’t wait until his mother left, not because either of us were tired of her, but because we were hungry for each other. We hadn’t slept together in days, and our animal instincts were growling. I said goodbye to him with a big kiss and made my way to the PATH to head home.

It was a very successful weekend. I had a great birthday, and apparently, I was a hit with CK’s mother. The whole day was a big success. I was all the more excited to be a bigger part of CK’s life, and I couldn’t wait for the next moment.

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Never-Ending Date

I’d begun an amazing date with a spectacular man, and I couldn’t wait for what was to come next. Although I had been to Frankies 570 multiple times before with multiple dates, this time was special. I had an amazing guy to share a meal with. Ironically, my meal from days prior was so good, I ordered the same the again.

Conversation over dinner we great. It flowed like water downhill. We were both very flirtatious and chatty. On many of my other dates, there were long awkward pauses, but not on this one. Everything was just so easy. When I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, he leaned in requesting a kiss first. It was incredibly sweet and adorable. I really liked this guy. He was everything I was looking for.

I was just taking extra care to make sure I didn’t get ahead of myself. I had a history of falling for guys who would hurt me or not be interested in pursuing anything further. While in the restroom, I looked in the mirror to keep myself centered. All I could do was smile at my reflection like a giddy schoolgirl.

When I returned to the table, the conversation picked back up where we left off. My hand was on his leg under the table. His body language was very positive.

Our meals came, and we shared them with each other. Both of us were very happy with our selections. When the meal ended, we agreed to order a dessert to share. We got the crème-brulee. I dug my spoon into it and fed him a spoonful. It felt incredibly romantic. He smiled as his mouth closed around the spoon. We finished dessert and began to chat about what to do next. He was dancing around what I can only assume were his true motives. He said, “We can go have more drinks.” I interjected, “I don’t want to drink anymore.” “We can drop our bags at my place and go out. We could grab Pinkberry…” he added. I cut him off at the pass saying, “You can stop dancing around it. We can go back to your place.” He immediately smiled and agreed that was the best idea.

I wasn’t thinking we were going back to his place for sex. I knew there would be making out and a lot of heavy petting, but I wasn’t planning to give it up that easily. We hopped in a cab back to his apartment. He asked if I wanted to go to the roof, and I told him I would default to him. We were on his home turf. He could run the show. I picked the bar and restaurant. It was his turn to drive. Before we got to his place, he warned me of the condition of it. He informed me he lived like a frat boy.

When we got to his place, we stopped in his apartment on our way to the roof. I didn’t think he was as bad as he let on. We began making out on the bed. This, of course, led to many other things. Slowly but surely, clothes started landing on the floor in scattered piles. Eventually, we fond ourselves naked and engaging in a myriad of sexual acts, but penetration would never occur.

He was a very passionate man. I have found it nearly impossible to find a man whose intellect, wit and sense of adventure outside the bedroom matched their passion in the bedroom. He was a diamond in the rough. I wasn’t going to let this one go without a fight.

I noticed he was very into music. It was like he needed a soundtrack. I liked it. Every minute I was learning something new about him, and it was all making me like him even more.

We never made it to the roof. We ended up passing out on top of each other’s naked body. In the middle of the night, we both woke up. It was around 2:00. He offered for me to stay. I was under the impression that was already happening. I assumed I would just stay the night. We cuddled some more, and he turned out the lights.

When we woke in the morning, things weren’t awkward at all. I felt very comfortable with him. We talked about how we didn’t have sex and how that made us both happy. We didn’t need to rush things. I mean, I was spending the night on a first date, but I was happy true sex didn’t occur. I was also thrilled he was the type of guy who would just bring that up and not keep it inside for fear of saying the wrong thing. He spoke his mind. I needed to get back to that. Being with him might help me get back to that.

He was amazing. There was no question about it. We were both starving and decided to get dressed to hunt for some breakfast. We stopped by a few places before finally settling on Jimmy’s American Grill and Bar. We grabbed a table outside and picked up the conversation where we left off the previous night.

I let my freak flag fly. I felt so free with him. I told him all about me and my idiosyncrasies. I explained my Christmas Bash and all the work I put into it. He referred to me as Martha Stewart, and I expressed my hatred for that referral. I didn’t like that my cooking and entertaining had a feminine connotation. I told him I was more the Nate Berkus type. He laughed and agreed it was a better reference. I told him about my crazy coworkers and how we would make an amazing reality show. I told him about growing up on a farm. Everything I could think of, I brought out. He loved it all! I learned about where he grew up and his career in advertising. Every word made me like him more and more. He also told me about his friends. They texted him while we were eating to ask him to come to brunch 2.0.

Somehow, we got on the topic of The Hunger Games. I was reading the books, and he had already seen the movie. I told him I was looking forward to seeing the movie. He told me he would go see it again and asked if we could go see it Sunday. You could have knocked me over with a feather. He was already planning date number two before date number one concluded. I was thrilled and immediately accepted.

He walked me to the PATH to say goodbye before heading downtown to meet his friends at Elmo. We kissed each other goodbye and gave a long lasting hug. There was a homeless man panhandling next to us who said, “Get a room,” through a smile. He began laughing, and I started to crack up since I was the one facing him. I said to my amazing date, “That made my day.” Immediately, he replied, “You made my day.” I was in heaven. I said goodbye and went down the stairs to the train.

Later, I learned from checking his Twitter that when he checked in at dinner on Foursquare, he wrote, “Easy conversation + tasty food + hot boy = great date on a Fri night (@ Frankies 570 w/ 2 others)” and the next day at brunch, “When last night’s date becomes this afternoon’s brunch date (@ Jimmy’s American Grill & Bar). He really did like me. I was just finding it hard to take. It was like a dream. I couldn’t really believe it. I didn’t want to get too excited because I didn’t want to get hurt. But, honestly, who gives a f*ck. I was happy, and that was all I cared about.

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Busy, Busy, Busy

I was having one hell of a busy week. I was running errands all over New Jersey. I was cooking. I was cleaning. I was unpacking boxes… The list goes on…

The party was one day away. I was making good progress. Now, I’m not trumping up how much I had to do with gay drama either. The list was really a mountain to conquer.

I’ve had my holiday party four years now, and the fifth was not about to fall short of the other four. I strive to make each year better than the last, and I think I’ve been quite successful.

I had my day quite planned out, but plans changed. Smiles volunteered to help me out with the party planning. He spent the night, but come late morning, he was ready to go home. I didn’t say anything to him about staying, but I was a little disappointed. It wasn’t that I needed the help. My friend P was arriving shortly. I wanted to spend the day with him. I had the day off from work and there was no reason in my mind we couldn’t be together.

I also told P he would be there, and I was excited for her to meet him. Not many of my friends had met him before, and I knew that would be a familiar face for him come the night of the party if he met her ahead of time — Not to be the case.

P and I had a fun work-filled day. We watched TV while we prepared fried hot wing dip balls. When those were done, we moved onto rolling the bacon and onion cream cheese crescent rolls. Next, we were on to preparing the mini PBJs, cheesecake filled strawberries, crab rangoons, Swedish meatballs, pierogies, popcorn turkey bites, cheddar garlic biscuits… The list goes on (As you can see I don’t mess around).

The sun was setting, so we broke to grab dinner. I bought us take-out since we were both tired of cooking. After we ate, I decided we should call it a night on the cooking. I thanked P graciously for all her help. She really saved my ass, and she made the day go by much faster.

I tried to tackle some of the cleaning that night before crashing on the couch. I couldn’t do too much because I’d prob get it dirty again the next day. When I felt I’d made enough progress, I called it a night.

Smiles had been texting me throughout the evening to see how things were going. I decided to call him to see how his day was. We had a very nice chat on the phone, and he was very supportive of my party preparations. It was nice to see him in this role, as usually the roles were the reverse. I was usually there supporting him.

We finished our pleasant phone conversation, and I went to bed. I had a lot of work to do before the forty guests arrived the following evening.

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My Very Own Cheerleader

Tuesday came and went quite uneventful in my relationship world. Smiles called and we talked for five minutes about our days.

When Wednesday arrived, I was starting to seriously worry Smiles wasn’t going to be attending my holiday party. I’d already asked a few times, and I didn’t want to be pushy, but the time had come to get a straight answer.

I texted him in the middle of the afternoon: “You still haven’t confirmed your attendance Saturday… You are coming right?” I quickly received a very succinct response: “Yes.”

What a relief. I was worried he’d made other plans and didn’t know how to tell me. I’m not sure how I would have taken it had he said no. You may have been reading about a new slew of guys I was pursuing from a myriad of online dating venues. I wanted him by my side for the party, and I wanted him to meet my friends. Many had not met him yet, and if you read my blog, you know how important to me they are.

Apparently, I’d opened up the dialogue for the day. Smiles followed his last text with a picture message. “The final bowl.” I was laughing. “Haha. You made it! You didn’t have to eat it all if you were tired of it… Don’t forget about the sausages!” I know I made a lot, but he didn’t need to feel obligated to eat it all. “All good. It’s what I’m supposed to be on. I just laugh because it’s like a salad at the Cheesecake Factory — Much larger than it looks!”

I took the Thursday before my holiday party off. I need to do a lot to prepare and to finally settle into my new apartment. 40 people were expecting a party that lives up to my usual standards. I couldn’t disappoint.

I started in my room with probably the lowest priority, but the most fun project. I was detailing a tree on my bedroom wall. I was shocked it only took me two hours to make the tree decal out of black contact paper. “2 hours later, the tree is up…” I texted to Smiles. He immediately responded with support: “Cool. I forgot about that project!” He told me he’d slept-in quite late, but he was getting a lot of work done.  And, since he’d finished season two of Vampire Diaries, he had nothing to distract him. “Nice. I’m cooking up a storm. Still no cable guy,” I replied. He didn’t realize I took Thursday off from work as well as Friday.

His next response could have knocked me over with a feather. “Wow. Lot of prep for Saturday! Want me to come over tonight and help?” This was the first time Smiles took such an interest in my life. It kind of came out of left field, but there were no complaints here! I made my feelings quite clear in my response: “I would love if you came over tonight! I need a consultant :)” I needed some design advice. I still had to hang pictures and light fixtures and the like. I could handle most of the cooking myself, but his design skills and good taste were going to get put to good use. “Still can’t lift anything, but happy to help with other stuff,” he added.

I asked him if 10:00 would work. I had volleyball, so that was the time I would be home. I didn’t want to give up a night with him just because of my game. The following made me about as giddy as a schoolgirl! “Oh yeah. It’s Thursday 😦 Was thinking I was coming over at 6:00ish. Yeah. I can do that. 10:00. But, maybe I could come watch volleyball?”

WHAT!? He wanted to come watch me play volleyball?! I’d mentioned it to both N and Broadway when I was dating them, but they never showed much interest in it. For him to volunteer without me ever even mentioning coming was amazing! “Yea! Sure! Come at 6,” I exclaimed.

We ironed out the logistics, and he made his way to Hoboken around 7:00. Every week I get a ride from my teammate I’ve known since high school. He also happens to be gay, so he was excited to finally meet Smiles. This would also be the first time my sister met Smiles as she gets a ride as well.

The two of us hopped in the backseat, and I introduced Smiles to my high school friend. When we picked up my sister, I introduced him again.

When we arrived at the gym, Smiles made himself comfortable and pulled out his iPhone. I knew this wasn’t going to be the most thrilling night of Smiles’ life, but it meant the world to me he wanted to come watch. I would look past the fact that he spent a lot of the time playing with his phone. I knew he was actually watching because between every game, I went over to sit with him, and he made comments on some of the plays I was involved in. The ironic part is, many of my teammates didn’t know I was gay. That night, I didn’t give them a definitive answer, but I’m sure they could have deduced the situation.

After the game, we went home, and Smiles helped me with a few things I needed to ask him about before I showered and we had a late dinner. While we ate our dinner on the couch, we watched TV until we grew tired. We made our way to my bedroom and dozed off for the night.

The next morning, we woke without an alarm and had breakfast. I thought Smiles would stay for a bit of the afternoon. My friend, P, was coming over to help me make food for the party. I informed her she’d be meeting Smiles, and she was thrilled and very excited. Instead, Smiles had to make his way home because he had work to do. Around noon, I said goodbye with a kiss and went back to preparing for the party. P arrived disappointed to find Smiles had gone, but we didn’t let that get us down. We spent the afternoon cooking up a storm. She was invaluable. I don’t think I could have done it without her.

I was in good spirits. I had an answer about Smiles’ attendance. He came to support me in one of my recreations. He helped me make decisions on decorating. All was good in my world. Now I just needed to find the time to finish cleaning and cooking for 40…

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Boston in the House

The next day, I did my best to forget the Grindr guy quickly. He was just a body I used, and the guilt I felt for using another human being like that was more than I could take. I disgusted myself. Not to mention what I did to N. I betrayed his trust. Something that is devastating to me, because if I’m nothing, I’m honest. I did exactly what I thought he did, and it didn’t make it any better. Just worse.

Much to my pleasure, Boston was visiting for the weekend. We planned it weeks prior and the day finally arrived. It just so happened we picked Pride Weekend in NYC for his visit. Perfect timing.

I left work at 2:00 to pick Boston up from Port Authority. However, his bus didn’t arrive for another two hours. I sat across the street at Schnipper’s Quality Kitchen reading the gay edition of the Village Voice. I found a lot of interesting articles to entertain myself while I waited. Especially the “Why I Hate Being Gay!” article. Once he arrived, we grabbed a quick lunch and hopped back on a bus to Hoboken.

That night, I planned an elaborate seafood dinner to welcome Boston and invited many of my friends, some of which he previously met in Miami. They too were excited to see him again. He’s just a good guy you always want to be around.

After he dropped his bags and got settled, Boston and I walked to the grocery store to get the few ingredients I needed to make the meal that night. I was going all out, with every kind of seafood I could think of. The night before I went to the store and bought so much seafood, the guy gave me a bunch of free things because I “just made his night” buying so much. He is a very nice older gentleman who I believe plays for my team. Boston was a really good friend who was always there for me when I needed an ear to talk off. I was going to treat him like a king while he visited.

When we got back, we talked while I prepared the meal. People slowly started trickling in, and everyone pitched in to help. We were all having fun, and Boston was getting to know a few of my friends. One friend was absent, however. N was nowhere to be found. He knew that I was making this meal. I had been talking about it the entire week leading up to Boston’s visit. Where the hell was he?

Finally, I got ahold of him via text, and he told me he was still at the gym and would be missing dinner. He was going to come by later after he showered. I was a little disappointed in him. I wanted him to be there, and he knew it. We were already on shaky ground with everything that was happening, and this was just one more thing to fan the flames. I told him I would save him some if he was lucky. He said, “I’ll just grab something now, and snack on it after the bar later tonight.” That got me even more annoyed. I felt like I was being treated like a short order cook.

While we ate, the wine was flowing, and following dinner, the spirits were too. Everyone was pregaming before we went off to the bar. Finally, N arrived. We already decided on a bar. My favorite bar, McSwiggans. I’m treated like royalty there. I know every bartender, bounce, and manager, and they take GOOD care of me. Once we were all properly lubricated, we journeyed to the bar.

It was a good scene. Lots of people dancing and having fun, and because I’m well connected there, we didn’t have to wait in line. Some of my friends who were unable to make it to dinner were meeting us at the bar. One of my old roommates was already there with his friend having a blast. I introduced Boston to more of my friends, and we all had a blast.

N and I were particularly flirtatious that night. We had been to this bar together, but it is definitely a straight bar. We normally let our guard down there because we feel comfortable, but that night we were probably obvious. We did everything but kiss right in the middle of the crowd. I was having a good time with him. All the problems drifted away. I was also happy to have Boston finally come visit, and he was having a good time too.

Apparently, N forgot I told him Boston is gay. He began to tell me how perfect a match he would be for his roommate until I reminded him. Then, I think he started to crush on him a little, as well as my old roommate. He kept on talking about how attractive they both are and how perfect my old roommate would be for his roommate as well. He was “just her type.” I tried to brush off the fact that he was telling me how he was attracted to my friends. It was off-putting, but I assumed it was innocent.

After some time, the three gay amigos started to bond. There was a very attractive guy who I had often seen at McSwiggans. We always made eye contact, but never spoke and never exchanged anything of substance. I always wondered which team he played for, and I expressed this to the two other gay men I was with. I felt bad for pointing this guy out in front of N, but he talked about the guys in the gym on a regular basis, so I didn’t feel that terrible. We all have terrible gaydar, but I thought our forces combined would be able to work it out. We couldn’t come to agreement, so we sent in the troops. Boston volunteered to walk past him on his way to the bathroom and cup his ass with his hand while he did. We would hypothesize his sexuality based on his reaction.

When Boston returned from the restrooms, he informed us how much of this guys ass he grasped. “I got a serious handful and a long feel. He didn’t budge an inch. I can’t decide what that means!” So, it would still remain a mystery.

The rest of the night was spent drinking a lot more and dancing our asses off. We had a blast. When the closing bell rang, Boston, N and myself walked back to my apartment. We hung out on the balcony for a while until I fell asleep on N’s shoulder. At that point, he tried to carry me to bed, but only woke me up. I walked to my bed while they walked to get slices of pizza. I immediately passed out again as soon as I hit the sheets. I only know N spent the night because he was in my bed the next morning…

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Romantic Dinner for 2

There were many nights I cooked for N and I. I enjoy cooking so much because I enjoy eating so much. It was also nice to have someone to take care of again. Tonight was a different story.

N had offered to make me his famous eggplant parmesan. He told me every time he’s made it, his friends have raved about the results. I told him, “I’ll have to judge that for myself.” The night before, he said he would make it for me for dinner the following night.

We spoke earlier in the day about how to pull it off for him to make dinner at my apartment. I hadn’t been in the pool in weeks, and I finally had the opportunity to get back in, so I wanted to swim that night. I was trying to get back into summer shape, and who doesn’t want to look good for their man?

The plan was for me to hide my key somewhere outside my apartment, so, when he got home, he could just come over and start cooking right away.

This may have been a dream of mine – Coming home to a fully cooked meal made by the man I couldn’t stop thinking about all day long. Does it get any better than that? However, I was skeptical. In the back of my mind, I was expecting to arrive home to find he hadn’t even made it over to my apartment yet.

If he was already cooking, he was working hard. And, he deserved a small reward for his hard work. I got out of the pool a little early. I couldn’t take the excitement anymore. After I finished my pool workout, since I was the only one in the locker room, I decided to take a few shots of myself in my drag suit to text to him. I wanted him to know how much I appreciated what he was doing for me, and I also wanted to get his engine revving for what I was going to do with him for desert.

After I got dressed, I hopped on my motorcycle and sped home as fast as I could. I checked my phone as I was keying into my apartment building, and I had no responses from the texts I sent. Now, I was legitimately worried he wasn’t there yet (If I was smart, I would have looked to see if the keys had been taken from the hiding place). But much to my pleasure, he didn’t let me down. It was incredibly sexy walking in the door to see him hovering over the stove making us a meal. I was sooooo turned on.

After asking if I could help in any way and being politely turned down, I plopped myself down on the bar stool and watched him cook. It sure was a nice change to not have to play chef. At one point, my roommate came home. She immediately made a comment about how strange it was seeing me sitting on the stool instead of standing in front of the stove. I explained to her he was cooking us a romantic meal, and I wasn’t about to mess with a good thing when I had it. She got the hint and went into her room.

I went to the wine fridge and picked out one of my favorite bottles. This truly was a special occasion. When the meal was ready, I went into my room and grabbed a few candles to put on the table we were eating on. I thanked him with a big kiss and dug in. I never had eggplant parmesan before, but this was spectacular! He wasn’t kidding about how good it was, but now I was experiencing it in my mouth. If you can’t tell by now, I’m a foodie. He truly found the way to my heart. The first few bites were all followed up with a kiss. We ate and ate until we gorged ourselves. Luckily, we had leftovers. I would be able to relive the memory of this night a few more times.

Following dinner, he went into my room to use my facilities. I began to make us desert – a simple dish, but one I knew he loved. I sauteed sliced up fresh peaches in a pan with a splash of oil and a dash of Splenda. This was our way of making a slightly healthier desert. However, when I finished making desert, and he still hadn’t returned from my room, I assumed he passed out on my bed. He had a habit of passing out on me. I tip-toed down the hall to see, but he was still using the restroom. I heard a magazine page being flipped, and it all began to make sense.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom to find me on the couch with the rest of our wine and two bowls of peaches and whipped cream, he said, “Oh. I didn’t know you were making that for us tonight. I thought you were just making it to have around.” I told him he was dense, and we dug into our desert. This of course was followed up with some heavy petting and a lot of making out, until we moved things to the bedroom. That night, we both had a great time. I wanted to make sure I pleased him good! And he certainly reciprocated.

The night was simple, but spectacular. I had amazing food and an amazing man to share it with. What else could I ask for? And with that, I fell asleep with the biggest smile on my face.

On a side note, I just found this video yesterday. It’s an adorable take on gay marriage. Totally cute and brought tears to my eyes. Very relevant as NY just legalized gay marriage. Check it out.

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