Posts Tagged decent

Superman Returns

Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.

I barely knew him, but I could already tell we were quite a match. On top of that, we weren’t even done the first date before he planned to see me again. It was his suggestion for us to catch The Hunger Games Saturday morning while we had breakfast.

I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.

I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.

He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!

We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.

We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.

We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!

When the movie was over, we made our way to the street and discussed the film while we walked. This was his second time seeing the movie. He expressed interest in reading the book, and I strongly encourage him to. I was already part of the way through the second book in the series of three.

We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.

When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.

He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.

We stopped by Pinkberry on the way back to his rooftop as per his request. We ordered ice cream and shared spoonfuls with each other as we walked up the street. When we got back to his place, we headed straight to the roof.

We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.

After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.

Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”

Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.

I told him it was a very long time for me since any guy had been inside me. I told him he’d have to go VERY slow. He began to slide in when I gripped his leg and implored him to stop. He told me to relax and just hold it there, but I insisted he pull out. I needed a break before we could continue. I know he thought it would be better if he simply held it there, but I was being painfully stretched. He wasn’t exactly a small guy — Quite the opposite. He pulled out, and I could see the disappointment on his face. He thought that was it, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I just needed a second to relax again. He began kissing me in a caring way. It was as if it was his way of saying, “I never want to hurt you again.” When I regain composure, I directed him to begin again. Delight spread across his face at this news.

This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.

He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.

We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?

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Late Night Quickie

Sunday night in LA, I took quite a blow to my heart. I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable goodbye, but I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’d driven all over LA trying to connect with The Navigator, but he wasn’t responding.

I faced facts and drove to the airport. I had no idea what else to do with my time, so I just drove to the car rental lot and returned my car. I figured I could at least use some time at the airport to blog a bit. I sat int he airport diner and ate my dinner alone.

My flight home was awful. First off, it was a redeye. I was set to land at 6:00am Monday morning. I had to go to work later that day so I tried my best to sleep on the plane. It was also awful because I was crammed in a widow seat towards the back of the plane. My airline status with United got me nowhere. I barely fit in my seat, and I wasn’t able to stretch out and walk around because the two men next to me were sleeping the entire flight.

I managed to sleep for two hours, but woke up after that. I had no feeling in my ring and pinky finger of my left had. Apparently I slept on it funny. When a fair amount of time passed, and I never regained feeling, I became worried. Maybe I had a blood clot or maybe I’d done some nerve damage. I tried to think about other things and distract myself, but I really started to get worried. I took out my laptop and did some more blogging, but even that was a challenge with two numb fingers. I was really starting to worry, but the feeling didn’t return the rest of the flight. (Four weeks and a doctor appointment later, and I finally regained feeling — I had a nerve impingement — Cubital Tunnel Syndrome).

I was exhausted all day at work Monday. I’d only gotten a few hours sleep on the plane and about one hour in my own bed before work. When I got home after work, I was still horny from my rambunctious trip. I was on Grindr, and a cute guy from the city wanted to come over for some fun. I didn’t turn him down since he was hot and said he’d wear his jockstrap.

When he arrived, I realized he was a redhead. He also had a slight Hispanic accent. He was also quite a presence clocking in at 6’4″. He was not born in America, but had been here a majority of his life. He was decent on the eyes, but nothing you’d run to your friends about. When he arrived we went straight to my room. He slowly got undressed and comfortable until we were both laying on the bed, me in my boxer briefs and him in a jockstrap.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I found the jockstrap very sexy. I’ve always been attracted to the athlete types and find locker rooms to be one of the sexiest places. They just turn me on. Always have.The jockstrap really gave him the leg up in my book. He was looking for a hot top, and I agreed to fill the position, literally. I broke out the condoms and lube, and we have a good time. Sometimes it was a little weird and awkward, but sex is never perfect! He really seemed to be enjoying himself. I did as well, but I could already tell this guy was going to linger. He was a gentle spirit. This would be no wham bam thank you man. I was going to have to sit through some pillow talk.

He started talking about his grandmother and how she is sick. He was flying home the following day to see her before she passed away. It wasn’t looking good. I started to feel bad for him, but then my emotions became distracted when he mentioned things like sleeping with her in her hospital bed. He looked like he was ready to cry, but all I could think about was this strange layout in a hospital room. I understood he was close to her, as she was responsible for raising him, but some of the things he was saying with his accent seemed very strange to me. There was obviously a cultural divide.

After we chatted some more, and he asked if he could use my shower. Now he was really pushing it! I obliged the request, but after that, he was gone.

He showered and toweled off. He began to get ready to go home. He talked about getting together again when he got back. He mentioned how heartless a lot of the other guys he’d hung out with were, and how sweet I was. He said how much he liked me. He wanted this to be an ongoing thing of friends with benefits. He told me his real name and that the name he gave me, Keith, was completely made up. Someone was a little paranoid. I felt like I found a stray puppy who wanted to follow me home. There would never be a next time, but I told him to hit me up when he got back from visiting his grandmother. After about three weeks, he did of course text, and I of course did not respond.

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Gray Hairs

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…

That night following my breakup with Smiles, I went home feeling some freedom. I’d already gone on a date and hooked up before breaking up with Smiles. But, now that it was official, I felt I could do whatever I wanted.

It’d been a while since I had some good, wild, crazy sex. I was horny. I had three months go by with only a little bit of lovin’ in the bedroom. I was hungry for a good man and a good time.

I was very cautious of history not repeating itself. I was not going to let myself go wild like I had after breaking things off with N. I didn’t need to do it now like I needed to do it then. But, that didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun.

I pulled out Grindr and began my talent search for the night. I wanted to find a good time one-night stand type. Any guy who wanted to hook up with me the first night he met me would not be a guy I wanted to date. Yes! That is exceptionally hypocritical of me, but it’s my love life, and I make the rules.

I found an old friend on Grindr while I was searching. He was a guy who came over to my apartment one rainy night shortly after breaking up with N. We were both staunch tops at the time, so we just fooled around a bit, but he had a great body and was a lot of fun. Even though we didn’t have penetration, we managed to find other creative ways to ensure the other fully enjoyed himself.

We chatted a bit, and he told me he missed me. I explained why I hadn’t been around as he told me he was hoping I’d hit him up again for a fun night. I told him to come by, and I would surely show him another good time. He tried to convince me to come to his place, but I insisted on hosting. I just felt more comfortable in my own bed.

He came by, and we laid in my bed just talking for a little bit. He had on many layers, and I slowly stripped a few off so he would be more comfortable while we laid there. Eventually, we started making out, and I rolled him on top of me.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some: I stripped him down to his briefs and fully appreciated his body. He was an older gentleman, but he certainly kept in shape. Everything was still tight and sexy. I hoped I would be in such good shape when I was older. Ironically it was that night I learned he was in his last year of his forties. I had no idea he was so old. I was shocked in fact. It didn’t change the fact that he was a sexy specimen of a man, but it kinda flipped my mentality on end. Up until this point, I thought the forty-year-old was the oldest I’d been with. He looked a lot like Ulrich Alexander Fox.

Regardless, he had a great d*ck and an amazing ass. I was ready to have some fun. I recalled his position as a top only, so I knew there would be not penetration again, but ironically enough, he volunteered, “Maybe sometime I’ll let you inside me.”

I was completely caught off guard. I replied, “Really!? Why’s that?” “Because you’re sexy, and I really feel comfortable with you. Maybe some day.” I asked if he ever bottomed, and he told me it’d been many many years since he’d last done it. I felt privileged. I was getting the ego boost I needed to get me back on my feet. It couldn’t have come at a better time. Here was a guy who was looking forward to another romp in the sheets with me, and we’d never even had full intercourse. Maybe I was better in the sack than I gave myself credit for :).

I had a lot of fun with him that night. He went down on me, and I finished like a pro. He commented on how he wished he still got as hard as I did and was able to shoot like I can. I then, with jello legs, helped him finish as well. He certainly deserved that after the fun night I was having.

Afterwards, we laid next to each other and just talked for a while. It was then I learned he was actually black. I’d noticed he wasn’t a white guy, but I wasn’t sure what his background was. I had nothing against this at all. I’d just thought maybe he was of Middle Eastern descent or possibly Egyptian. I also learned he was adopted by what seemed like a picturesque white family in Connecticut. He was very happy explaining his upbringing. I could tell there was a lot of love in that family. I was happy I had a real man in my bed and not just a body to hook up with. I’d never start a relationship with him, but at least this friend with benefits was an interesting guy with a big heart.

He again told me how much he missed me and being with me. He also told me he hoped we could find time to meet up again in the future. He encouraged me to come to his place some time since he lived alone and had a nice apartment. I told him I would certainly come to him next time. I learned he really wasn’t a creep, but a decent guy with a decent libido.

I once again took the opportunity to admire his body and tell him how hot he is. He was embarrassed by my compliments and talked about his need to take more care of his body. I insisted it was pretty amazing, and he directed the attention toward mine. He told me in detail how hot I was and how thrilled he was to have fun with me.

We continued to talk as her got dressed. I walked him to the door and gave him a kiss goodnight.

It was exactly what I needed right when I needed it. I had fun. I got an ego boost. And, I had a smile on my face for at least the rest of the night. I would sleep a very happy man that night!

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