Posts Tagged delicious

Visit From the Sugar Plumm Fairies

We all know that red roses are the queen of Valentine’s Day, and chocolate is king. If you read my blog, you know just how much I like chocolate. Although I never heard of them before this weekend, I am thrilled to introduce Sugar and Plumm, the Purveyors of Yumm!

Chef Pichet Ong spoke to our intimate group about the delicious creations they are whipping up. Perhaps best known as a judge on Top Chef: Just Desserts, award-winning corporate pastry Chef Ong is the whimsical creator behind the sweet and savory confections of Sugar and Plumm. He combines the fond flavors of his childhood with modern cooking techniques to create culinary offerings that are seasonal, pure, light, and delightfully experimental, yet nostalgic.

After introducing us to the brand, he was kind enough to treat us to their For The Love of Chocolate gorgeously packaged box of some of their finest chocolate creations. It is an amazing assortment of hand-crafted artisan chocolates with origins from around the world. This box included two white chocolate blueberry and six pure dark Mexican chocolate ganache. However, the pleasant surprises didn’t end there. Hidden below were chocolates with flavors and aromas consisting of raspberry, vanilla, coconut, hazelnut praline, jasmine tea infused ganache, ginger, milk chocolate and pure dark Peruvian. On top of allowing us to sample some of their finest chocolate creations, we were also give a pair of their brightly colored, delicate French macaroons. It was all I could do to keep myself from digging in immediately.

When I untied the ribbon and opened my brightly colored box, I was blown away by the impeccably pristine chocolates before me. They were almost too pretty to eat. Luckily, that would not stop me. What did stop me was the thought of my boyfriend waiting for me at home. There’s something incredibly romantic about fine artisan chocolates that makes it sinful not to share with a loved one.

On our anniversary, the day before Valentine’s day, I told my boyfriend I had a surprise for him. I told him to close his eyes and open his mouth. After a bit of trepidation, he complied, and boy was he glad he did. His face lit up from ear to ear as he savored his first bite of the dark chocolate ganache-filled heart. I sampled the white chocolate blueberry-filled heart. I’d never tasted anything so complex and exquisite. It was heaven. I was reminded of the first time blueberry wine touched my lips, and I had to have more. The combination of blueberry and white chocolate was pure genius. I forced myself to put the box away so I could savor these the little bits of chocolate heaven for a few days; I simply did not want the experience to end!

There was no way I could possibly ignore the fresh macaroons waiting the ultimate demise. Although there were two, I wanted the best of both worlds. As it’s rather impossible to split a macaroon, I simply bit half for myself and passed the other half to my boyfriend. We made long extended moans as we enjoyed these incredible indulgences, and that was just the vanilla macaroon. I repeated our ritual with the strawberry poppy-seed, and the moans of happiness only grew louder. The flavors transported me back to the beach with my parents snacking on strawberry Twizzlers.

It was amazing how incredibly nostalgic Sugar and Plumm’s confectionaries were. How could so much be contained in such a small morsel?

I was shocked to learn that Sugar and Plumm serve breakfast, lunch, dinner, weekend brunch, and every craving in between. I was expecting a purveyor of sweets, but they create works of art from homemade ice cream and macaroons, to house-smoked salmon and Berkshire pulled pork, our team of master chefs, bakers, and chocolatiers are purveyors of all things delicious and delightful. The bake shop even makes everything handmade, from scratch. The only problem you’ll find is deciding what to order (and possibly that top button on your pants).

Although it’s too late to place an order for Valentine’s Day delivery, if you’re looking for that perfect way to show the special person in your life just how much they mean to you, this is a perfect for Valentine’s Day — Or any of the other 364 days of the year. The have gift boxes for every budget and an in-store experience you won’t soon forget! This Upper West Side spot with Parisian charm and a downtown vibe is sure to knock the socks off anyone who enters and will certainly not disappoint!

For more information, visit the on Facebook.

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The Walls Closing In

One weekday, CK and I woke at my apartment, and I dragged him out of bed to toss around the medicine ball while we watched TV before work. I was motivated and a bit stressed, so I wanted to work out. We talked about working together to get our bodies back in shape before summer ended. It was miraculous I got him out of bed so quickly.

The planets aligned for us on the TV too. His favorite talking head, Rachel Maddow, was on my favorite talking head’s show, Real Time with Bill Maher. That was something we could both agree on.

When we were done working out, I made us some very healthy and delicious eggs for breakfast, if I do say so myself. Of course, because of our morning workout, we were a little delayed. We showered and got dressed quickly. On the way to the PATH, I wanted to grab a coffee, but CK was running later than he’d liked. He protested, and when I saw a long line, I passed. When we passed a second Dunkin Donuts, I told him I wanted to swing through. He’d apparently had enough and said goodbye on the spot. He wasn’t going to wait for me, and rightfully so. Better judgment kicked in, and I accompanied him to the PATH instead, where we rode together to his stop and gave each other a kiss goodbye.

Not only was I motivated to get my body in shape but also motivated to get my career in shape. Work was evolving drastically for me. I’d just taken on a new role I created for myself after chatting with my boss a few weeks prior. I pointed out our missed opportunity in the social media department and described how I could fill the void. After all, I had some experience in the social world (even though I couldn’t exactly show him my “portfolio”). I thought this could be the ticket to my future. Finally, I found something I could turn into a career instead of a job that generated me a paycheck. Something more than where work was just something I did between my time off. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there were bound to be a lot of speed bumps. However, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

That morning, I was really thrown a curveball I wasn’t expecting. I was called in for my review, and it was less than stellar. I had anticipated this, and it’s the main reason I approached my boss with the social media proposition in the first place.

Just when I didn’t think it could get any worse, I learned my boss was altering his role at the company as well. He was taking a far less active role, and it didn’t bode well for me. My day was heading downhill fast. Little did I know, but it was about to turn kamikaze. Not only was my boss taking on a lesser role, but we were also merging with another company.

My heart was in my throat for the remainder of the day. My first reaction was fear. Would I be a redundancy? Would I be laid off? As much as this was just a job for me, I needed it very much. I couldn’t even bring myself to text CK or call my family. I was very afraid, ashamed, embarrassed, the list goes one…

After that day came to a close, I woke the next day with some clarity. My next reaction was motivation. The fear began to wane, and I realized I needed to put all my efforts into my new venture. It wasn’t easy to get there, however, it was much easier to get through with the support of my man. I’d told him everything that was going on. He talked me down off the ledge when I was worried I’d lose my job and made me feel much better about the situation.

The fear wasn’t completely gone, and I needed an outlet for my stress. The coworker who left to work at CK’s company asked us to meet her for happy hour at the Standard Biergarten. I had been texting CK that afternoon and asked him to join us. He was being cryptic about what he wanted to do, and told me he may have to work late. I could tell he wasn’t really feeling it, but I really wanted to introduce him to my coworkers. He missed her going away drinks a few weeks earlier, so when this opportunity finally rose again to meet my coworkers, I was pretty persistent. He wasn’t digging it. He had a long day, and he wanted to go home and relax. I was really disappointed, but I also understood. We made plans for him to come to my place for the night when I got home.

Shortly after hearing he was heading home, we decided to leave the biergarten. I tried calling and texting CK, but I got radio silence for two hours. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on, so I decided to lace up and head out for a run. I needed to clear my head and work on my body again. I still couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t responding to me at all.

After my run, I finally got a text telling me he was heading my way. I started to make dinner, and when he texted me asking for a ride, I decided to go radio silent. Sure, I know it was petty, but I was in the middle of making dinner. I also didn’t appreciate him not getting back me when we’d discussed I’d call him when I was heading home.

When he arrived all that no longer mattered. We were both in good spirits because we were there to hug and comfort each other. That’s what it really comes down to at the end of the day, literally. I loved him, and he made me happy.

We sat and ate dinner together, but when I put my hand on his thigh, I felt something sticky/slimy. I pointed it out to him, and he didn’t have an explanation for it. My overactive mind immediately went to work connecting dots. Was it lube? Was that where he was for the two hours I couldn’t get ahold of him? I could go on for hours.

In turn, I got quiet. I was deep in thought and wasn’t quite sure what to say. After we ate, we sat on the couch watching TV. After some time, I suggested we head to bed. I was exhausted, and my head was spinning, but he wasn’t tired. Of course, we both fell asleep on the couch, waking up around three o’clock in the morning, finally moving to my bed.

I tried to put all doubt out of my head. Worrying about it would do no good, and I realized I was making quite a bit of a leap. There was a bigger picture here. I loved him. I won’t say that I squashed all doubt in my mind, but I managed to push it deep down so it wouldn’t continue bubbling up…

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The Lake

I am very fortunate to have amazing friends that come with amazing perks. It just so happens one of my friends’ parents own a house on a lake with a boat. In the summer, if I’m not worshiping the sun on the beach, you can find me relaxing and fooling around on the lake. Either way, I gotta work on my tan!

Saturday evening, CK and I were invited to D and K’s backyard for a barbecue. While there, we were also invited to join a small group on K’s boat. I’d been going out there for years with her. I was the Gilligan to her Skipper, however, I’d like to think I was a little more helpful. I’d actually become quite versed in some of the crucial acts of boating through my trips out to the Lake with K. She even joined me when I bought a Groupon to learn to sail. For her birthday, I bought her a life vest I happen to see on sale in a store I was in.

As this wasn’t the first time I’d been on the boat, it wasn’t the first time I brought a man with me. In the previous summer, I was very excited to integrate N in my friend circle. While I don’t regret this at all, looking back at the pictures leave a bitter taste in my mouth. CK and I were still going strong, and I knew these memories would erase the old. When I thought about the good times on the boat with my man, it would be with my Superman.

The downside of the lake is that we have to get up very early to go. It’s about an hour drive away, and the later we wait, the worse the traffic gets. CK and I had our fun before bed, and when the alarm went off in the morning, although groggy, we were on point. It took us a little time to get out of bed, but once we did, we were making moves. We fooled around and got frisky, taking our fun from the bed to the shower, all the while staying on schedule. I even had time to make us CK’s favorite breakfast burritos and iced coffee in a mason jar.

It turns out, we were ahead of the game. Let the record show, and I would like to repeat: We were not only on time, we were early — A feat worthy of praise. When I called K, she was just waking up. She told me she’d swing by in fifteen minutes to get us. In the meantime, she called all the other girls who were coming with us. They were taking much longer to get their act in gear. K picked us up and drove up to my sister’s apartment, where she and two other girls were preparing.

Apparently, they were having a rough morning after a long night out. I was really relishing my reasonable exit with CK. We waited so long, I finished my burrito. When I opened the car door, tragedy occurred. The mason jar containing the iced coffee for CK and I shattered on the sidewalk. My mind immediately shot back to CK’s comments in my kitchen: “Why are you putting it in a mason jar?” I turned to him immediately and said, “I should have listened to you! DAMMIT!”

After waiting for over 45 minutes, my sister emerged. Alone. We waited all the time to learn the girls were sick and not joining us. Regardless, we were on our way. The four of us made our way out to the lake for a day of fun.

We all hopped on the boat and got it ready to shove off. We lounged… We tubed… We swam… We had a blast. I was really enjoying my day with my man in one of my favorite places. I couldn’t take my eyes off him all day. His package looked amazing in his trunks, and I let him know it. When no one was looking, I would give it a gentle squeeze. I couldn’t wait to get him home and ravage him! K was driving the boat while CK and I rode the tube together, swerving and “cracking the whip” at every opportunity.

When we finally fell off the tube, she circled around to pick us up. She asked if we could drop anchor and relax for a bit, but told us she’d tow us to the end of the lake where we can drop anchor. While being tugged along, CK and I were horsing around. I began to slip, somewhat by accident, and somewhat on purpose. As I slipped, I grabbed onto his trunks. I knew exactly what I was doing. This wasn’t a survival action — This was a horny action. As I gripped his shorts, they seemed more attached to me than him. His bare bottom was exposed to the sunlight. It was all I could do to stop myself from pulling myself back up so I could give it a gentle bite. It looked purely spectacular in the sunlight. He wasn’t too thrilled I was doing this to him, but I was in heaven.

Many times on the lake K mentioned a restaurant on the way home that has a very cheap lobster meal, but we never had the time. At the sound of this CK made sure we had the time to stop. The meal was delicious and we had fun.

For the rest of the ride home, I laid in CK’s arms in the back of the car. I was always happiest cuddling in his arms. We made one pit stop on the way so I could buy us all Sonic ice cream since I was craving a sweet.

That wasn’t the only sweet I was craving. I was struggling to keep my hands off my sweet all day long. K dropped us off at my apartment, and I was finally able to exercise my hormones and my libido. We had a long exhausting day at the lake, so we didn’t have the most energy, however, we weren’t going to let that stop us from an evening romp in the sack…

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Highlights From My Trip

CK and I were about to hit our two-month mark. It was two of the best months of my life, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I learned I could truly find love in a man, and slowly but surely, I started to give more and more of myself to him. The wall I built up around my heart was not only cracking but also crumbling. There were a handful of guys in my past I had come to enjoy the extended company of beyond a hookup, but CK was the first man I ever really came to love.

My life was no longer my life. There was no longer a me. It became our life and us. I stopped making plans for one. CK was front and center in my thoughts at all times. We were living together in two homes. We were dining together, drinking together, taking trips together, etc.

CK’s move to an apartment with roommates allowed him a new cashflow he hadn’t had before, however, I was trying to prevent us from blowing that on going out to dinner in the New York City. It’s not cheap, and if we were going to build a life together, he needed to start saving. I wasn’t thrilled with spending all that money going out to eat either. It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford it, but we felt it was a bit of a waste. When I was living on my own, I made dinner for myself almost every night. Going out to dinner felt like a luxury and a treat. I wanted to get back to that. We both agreed to live more economically wherever possible. Since CK isn’t the biggest cook, I even started making food and taking it to his apartment so we could have convenient meals prepared. For instance, one night after work, we grabbed some groceries and thawed the frozen spaghetti sauce I made for dinner. We cooked together in the kitchen and ate in front of his TV. It was nice, it was cheap and it was delicious. That meal cost us pennies compared to what we’d spend going out to an Italian restaurant. We were also taking advantage of Groupons and Living Socials whenever possible so on the nights we didn’t feel like cooking, we could grab a nice dinner out and not pay full price.

As a gay man, I’m not quite as mirror conscious as some, but I am a bit vain in some aspects. I love how I look with a great tan, and I love it even more when my hair has a bit of depth and volume. Sadly, a few years ago, my hairline started receding. There was little I could do to prevent it, so I did what I could to mask it. That meant getting my haircut in a certain style, but it also meant highlighting it so it wasn’t one solid color against my scalp. This is one of my few gay vices.

Since I was in junior high, I stopped going to my father’s barber and started going to my mother’s hair stylist. Granted, since moving away from home, I didn’t go home every time I needed a haircut, but I did make it a point to go home and get it highlighted periodically throughout the year.

My hair got naturally lighter in the summer, so before the sun worked its magic, I would always try to trek home for some carmel colored highlights. My hair stylist was a magician. He never measured, but he always got my color just right. The one time I was left under the heat too long, everything slid to the back of the cap, bleaching the back of my head. He managed to dye my hair back to it’s natural color. You couldn’t tell anything went wrong.

My hair stylist also charges me a measly $30 for the highlights and the cut. Granted it’s in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, but it would cost more over $100 to have this done in New York City. Whenever I get my hair cut by someone in the metro area, they ask about the highlights. They compliment them, and I get a big kick out of telling them how much I paid for them — Their jaws hit the floor.

It was particularly difficult to get home before the summer sun this year. My sister wasn’t being cooperative about trips home, so I had to plan something on my own. That meant hopping on the motorcycle and making the two-hour trek home (costing me $10 in gas). I didn’t want to give up my weekend because that was when I went to the beach with my boyfriend, but it was nearly impossible to get away during the week. On top of this, it had to be planned around nice weather. I couldn’t make the trip home if rain was in the forecast.

Summer was passing by, so I decided to take off a half day from work to get it done. After work Wednesday evening, I sped home trying to avoid traffic and made it to my parents’ house just before the sun went down. I found it very sweet that CK was worried about me. He was very concerned with my safety, even after riding with me on the bike many times. I was truly touched. I told him when I was heading home, and I texted him as soon as I got to my parents’ place. I told him it would take roughly two hours, and he was texting me worried after about an hour and a half. It showed me how much he truly cared about me and how much he loved me. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you babe!” he said.

CK was against the trip from the onset. He didn’t like the idea of me getting highlights, but I told him to have faith. He’d seen pictures of me in the summer and commented how good I looked. I promised him I wouldn’t come back looking like an a$$hole. I think he thought I was getting my tips frosted.

It was also nice to catch up with my parents and have a relaxing night in front of the TV with a home-cooked meal. The next morning, I woke at the crack of dawn to hit up the salon. In an hours time, I looked like a new man, and I was back on the road. I had to get back to work by mid-afternoon.

That night, CK saw me for the first time in person, after asking me to send pictures to his phone. He commented on how good I looked. “Babe, I was really worried. I thought you were going to look ridiculous,” he added. I gave him a big kiss and reminded him how I knew what I was doing, cheekily.

Even if I came back looking ridiculous, I’m sure he would have played along and told me I looked fine. We were in love, and my hair wasn’t going to change that. On the flip-side, I think the highlights worked a little magic and made me more attractive to him because, after being away from each other for a night, we had some great passionate sex before dozing off.

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When It Rains, It Pours

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…

Life was good. I finally met a man who seemed to be too good to be true. We’d already been on three unforgettable dates, and things were only getting better.

Saturday morning, I said goodbye to Clark Kent when I dropped him off in the city. I wanted to spend every waking minute with him, but things were still fresh and young for us. It’d only been a week. I needed to stop my habit of diving in head first, or I could be in for a world of hurt. Saturday night, I made plans with friends to go out. One of the guys I swam with in college asked me to come by to pregame and then go to the bar with him and some other friends. It’d been months since a request like that came in, so I was ready and raring to go. By the time I got ready to go out after running all my errands, they moved things to the bar. I met the group at Black Bear in Hoboken. These friends are serious triathletes, so they never go out, and when they do, they go to bed early. I also encouraged my other friend P to join us.

When I got to the bar, I sent CK a text to see what he was up to. He responded by telling me to come into the city and spend the night with him. Had he texted me a half hour earlier, I probably would have never entered the bar and would have gone straight into the city. I stepped outside to call him and explain. I really wanted to go see him since I couldn’t get enough of him, but P had just arrived. I didn’t want to ditch her. He fully understood. A small part of me wanted to ensure he wouldn’t get tired of me, so I thought some time apart would do us good.

I went back to the bar and had a good time with my friends. In true fashion, a half hour later, all but P made their way home to go to bed. It wasn’t even midnight yet. I told her all about CK and how amazing he was. I also told her about how I’d ended things with all the other guys. She kept asking things like, “Well, what about [X]? I thought you had a good date?” I explained to her that none of these guys were like my Superman. They didn’t measure up at all. She was impressed with my conviction and wished me luck, but she warned me not to get too far ahead of myself. P and I decided to go to another bar we enjoyed far more, Cooper’s Union, where we sit and chat while our favorite Hoboken bartender serves us.

Just as we were about to leave the bar, it started pouring. We agreed to call it a night instead. She hopped in a cab, and I made my way down the street home. I didn’t get far before I decided to run. I ripped off my soaking wet shirt and ran on my Cole Haans the dozen blocks home. When I got home, I texted CK to tell him about my “TV commercial-like sprint in the rain home.” (The Nike technology in Cole Haans really is amazing btw!). He responded back telling me how much he wished he’d seen me. He told me he was turned on by the mental picture. I achieved my goal. I knew exactly what I was doing when I sent that text to him. I wanted him to want me.

Sunday, I talked to CK, and we made plans for me to spend the night in the city. It made sense since he was so close to my office. I could bring clothes for work the next day and head straight there in the morning.

As the day progressed, the weather deteriorated. It was pouring. I made my way to his place around dinnertime soaked to the bone. I had my giant umbrella with me, but water-soaked my pants from the ground up. He stripped me of most of my clothes when I arrived, and we began fooling around immediately. This, of course, led to sex and some hot, sweaty fun.

I was happy to be spending a rainy night in with him. We had no plans and no obligations. We were simply going to cuddle in his apartment and watch something on his iPad. He offered to make me dinner, and I accepted. He told me his cooking abilities were limited, but he would whip up his specialty for me. I heard a lot going on in the kitchen while I sat in his living room. He wouldn’t let me help. He wanted to surprise me. When I came into the kitchen to give him a hug and kiss, I got my kiss but was ordered back to the couch.

Moments later, he brought me a plate full of salad with chunks of chicken and a tasty dressing. It was very good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. That night, I would also learn of CK’s sweet tooth. We weren’t even done our salads before he was talking about dessert. He didn’t have anything in the apartment, but there was a bodega on the block. We would venture out into the rain to satisfy a craving for sweets. He offered for me to stay in the apartment and stay dry, but I insisted on coming with him.

We picked up Oreos, ice cream and some cheddar bread sticks and made our way back out into the rain. I was tempted the whole walk back to ask him to hold the umbrella while I ripped my shirt off and ran back to his apartment in the rain. The only thing that stopped me was that I’d have to stand in front of his doorman with no shirt on until he caught up, and I thought it might embarrass him. I chickened out! I was so disappointed in myself. I wanted to show him I didn’t take myself too seriously.

When we got back to his apartment, we dove into the ice cream and Oreos. He made each of us a bowl, and we cracked open the bread sticks. We sat in bed, and when we finished, we cuddled in front of his iPad watching Smash. Shortly thereafter, I dozed off in his arms. It was a perfect rainy night, and I truly looked forward to many others with him while I dreamed the night away.

The next morning, we fooled around before getting ready. While I showered, he made me a bowl of yogurt, fresh berries, honey and granola. It was delicious. He was really taking care of me.

Every moment made me fall for him more and more. We walked to my office together before he hopped on the subway, and I made my way inside. I was head over heels, and things were just starting. The possibilities were endless, and I planned to explore them all…

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Meeting the Hatfields

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…

Southern Drawl was very anxious to see me. Before our last date ended, he asked me, “So, when do you get to see me again?” It was a bit egotistical, but it was also a little cute.

I had plans with other guys for the rest of the week with the exception of my volleyball game on Thursday. We agreed to do happy hour after work on Friday to get the weekend started off right. He was going to the Frying Pan, a permanently parked barge on the Hudson River that doubles as a restaurant/outdoor bar, with a group of his coworkers. Apparently, he was comfortable enough to introduce me to them.

He was already there when I made my way across town to meet him. He worked right across the street, so there was a solid crowd present from work. I found them in the crowd and pulled up a chair to the table. Everyone was very welcoming and nice. They immediately offered me a cup of sangria, and I settled in. I joined the big conversation, and Southern Drawl and I had a few side conversations not meant for the table.

I wasn’t sure to what extent he was out to his coworkers, so I played a vague roll. I didn’t show any signs of affection or do anything that would be a severe tell. I had a good time.

When everyone was ready to go, we started walking. We were heading to his apartment, but we walked with the others until they peeled off to head in separate directions. It was then I was informed that this was a big deal. None of the other guys he dated had met his coworkers. Only one or two of them knew he was gay, so this was somewhat of a public coming out. I’m sure his coworkers would put two and two together if he was inviting a man to join them for drinks. It was flattering he was willing to do that with me.

Since before I met S.D. in person, I’d learned of his incredibly flamboyant and promiscuous roommate. We talked about him to quite an extent on the walk.

I could not have been prepared for his apartment when I walked in there. It was an utter dump! His roommate was lounging on the couch when we arrived. S.D. needed to change before we went out for the rest of the evening. I chatted a bit with his roommate, and he certainly had a strong unwarranted air of superiority. We didn’t get along, but we didn’t clash either. He was a non-entity to me.

Meanwhile, I made a comment about S.D.’s shoes, and I was ripped a new one. He went off on me how expensive they were and how dare I downplay them. I was dying to get out of that apartment, and S.D. was dragging his feet.

He told me his friends from back home in the south were going to be out on the Lower East Side since one of them worked at Brother Jimmy’s. We decided to pick a place in the neighborhood to grab dinner before drinking our faces off. We found a nice Italian restaurant, Pete’s Tavern and shared a delicious pleasant meal. Things were starting to feel comfortable with him. All the awkwardness melted away. We had great conversation and kept each other on our toes. The conversation was great, but I began to wonder if I was sexually attracted to him. When he sent pictures to me, I found him to be quite attractive, but since being with him, I didn’t get excited or aroused by him. We hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, but I wondered if when I came to that bridge, would I even want to cross it. On top of that, we hadn’t discussed positions since we first spoke on the phone. He told me he didn’t have much experience in the bedroom originally. He said he never really bottomed, but he may be willing to experience it. Since then, I got a different picture learning about the long-term relationships he’d been in. I wondered if they were sexless, or was he lying. We were two tops, and that was going to pose a problem as some point.

After we finished dinner, we walked to Brother Jimmy’s to meet his friends. He was excited to introduce me to them. They’d already seen pictures of me and predicted I was a far better man for him to date than the one he just let go. They already loved me before even meeting them, so it was my game to lose.

S.D. introduced me to them, and we hit it off pretty swimmingly. His best friend, a female, pulled me aside to talk and gossip. We chatted, and she expressed how much she liked me. “You’re just the right amount of gay,” I was told. I’d always thought that about myself, but it was still interesting hearing someone say this to me. Even the friend, the girl who was working behind the bar planted a kiss on me, right on the lips. It was a pleasant surprise. I was a hit!

S.D. also told me his friend from work, “his little buddy,” was joining us. This kid was gay and even lived with S.D. on the couch for a period. They were very close and best friends of sorts. When this kid arrived, I was introduced to him. He seemed very nice, and we exchanged small talk. Almost immediately, S.D. and he separated from the group and began chatting the night away. It was obvious to me S.D. had a crush on him. I wondered if the little guy just wasn’t interested in S.D. and that was the hangup for why they weren’t together. I felt incredibly neglected. I was getting quite drunk, and that usually peaks my emotional state. I was very close to walking out the door and going home without a word but better judgment kicked in.

After we watched someone who looked like Snookie do an amazing rendition of Adele for karaoke, I was ready to go home. I was drunk, and I was trying to see past how he ignored me. Even after all I drank, the bartender charged me seven dollars.  I’m still not 100% sure why, but I asked S.D. if he wanted to come back to my place and spend the night. I think I wanted to test our sexual chemistry. I wasn’t looking for sex. Clearly that wasn’t possible in the state I was in. I just wanted to get somewhat physical with him.

We made out way back to my place and quietly made our way to my room. We climbed into bed to spoon, and I passed out quickly.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke up in the morning, we started spooning and fooling around. There was a lot of heavy petting and oral pleasuring. It wasn’t long before he was straddling my chest fondling himself. It also wasn’t long before he excited himself so much he finished right on my chest. He asked for my permission, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen almost immediately.

We lounged in bed for some time before I made us breakfast. There was a bit of a schedule for the morning, however. My parents were coming into town for Easter weekend. I needed to get him out of there before they arrived. Just as we finished eating, I got a call from my parents. They were downstairs. I told S.D. to quickly get dressed and make his way down the back stairwell. He was fine with this, and we agreed we’d chat later on the phone. I hustled him out the door and kissed him goodbye.

One minute later, I threw on flip-flops and went down to greet my parents. They didn’t make a single comment about the guy leaving my building. I had yet another celibate weekend in front of me, and this was a good thing.

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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…

Saturday had arrived, and it was St. Patty’s Day. I was out early in the morning to hit up the gym. I wasn’t going to find myself wasting another day lying around my apartment looking for sex. It was the true start to my staycation and to the new me. It was gorgeous outside, and I was motivated.

As I left the gym, I ran into K and one of my other friends. They were heading into the city to drink, but I wasn’t interested. I’d just come from the gym. I’m not a fan of day drinking to begin with. I said goodbye and continued on my way home. D’s girlfriend was up from Philly that weekend, so I texted them to see what they were up to. They were grabbing brunch and had no plans for the rest of the day. I told them I was bored and lonely, and if they thought of anything, I’d be game. I also called my old roommate to see what he was up to. He was studying for yet another test he had to take for work. I knew it was useless to try to convince him to do anything else.

Finally, D and his girlfriend decided to swing by. They came up, and we just lounged around chatting. She’d never been to my apartment before, so I showed her around. After some time, we decided to go for a drive and check some new cars for D to possibly lease. I was game, so we made our way uptown in the great weather to D’s car.

We decided to drive around Jersey City since there were a few nice neighborhoods I’d never explored. I was a bit curious, and the other two were as well. I also wanted to scope out a spot I had in mind for dinner that night with the guy I spoke to on the phone for two hours, Travel Agent. We drove by the cute cafe on the corner in an upscale neighborhood of Jersey City, The Hamilton Inn. I’d seen it a few times before and had been curious how it was. I pulled up the menu on my phone and suggested the idea to T.A.

He was still working, but he said it sounded like a good idea. We planned to work out the rest of the logistics later.

We drove around for quite a bit more before finally returning to Hoboken. They dropped me off at home. I hopped in the shower and began to get ready for the evening with T.A. I’d been texting him a bit and made a reservation at the restaurant for 7:00. When he told me it’d have to be later, I called and changed the reservation for 8:30. When the time came, he picked me up in his nice Audi. He was a good-looking guy. He wasn’t someone you’d stop on the street and say, “Damn!” but he was good-looking. We jumped right into conversation. It was fairly relaxed. I feel he may have been slightly uptight, but I tried to remain candid and relaxed.

The Hamilton was exactly what I was hoping for. It had a decent crowd, the food looked and smelled amazing, and we got a nice table to sit and chat with each other. The obvious and easy thing to decide was to order a bottle of Malbec to share. I still couldn’t help feeling he was uneasy about things. He just didn’t seem to relax. I tried to lighten things up and asked if he wanted to split an appetizer. He agreed, but it wasn’t terribly easy to pick something. He defaulted to me, and after discussing it, I finally decided on the pierogies with goat cheese appetizer.

We began by talking about where we grew up in more detail than we discussed on the phone. The conversation shifted to our jobs. I got to learn in greater detail what he does. I told him about my job, and slowly I began to realize I was monopolizing the conversation. He’d ask me a question, and I’d answer in detail. When I’d ask him questions, his answers would be short. I wanted to get to know him. He seemed like a decent guy.

The waiter returned and we ordered. I was debating between he risotto and chicken. I decided on the chicken, and he decided on the risotto.

We talked some more until our food arrived. Or should I say, I talked some more. I would never say it was a bad date, but I would also not say it was a great one either. We shared some of our meals with the other. It was a nice time. I was enjoying his company, and the food was delicious. I was looking forward to a second date so we could think of something more relaxed to do. Hopefully that would break him out of his shell.

We declined dessert since he had to get home because he had a big work project the following day. He expressed to me how much he enjoyed the date. I was happy to hear it. We split the tab and made our way back to his car. On the way back to my apartment, we passed another restaurant I was interested in trying. I mentioned it to him, and he said, “Maybe next time we should try there.” That was a very hopeful statement. If he was already thinking about next time, maybe he really did enjoy it too.

We stopped in front of my apartment, and he put the car in park. He leaned over and gave me a kiss. I pulled back and went in for a second. It was nice, and I wanted him to know I was interested. I told him, “Call me when you’re back from Mexico. Or, you can text/call whenever you like,” with a smile as I exited the car. He told me we’d be in touch.

After that, I heard nothing from him. He clearly stated his enjoyment and mentioned a second date. How was I not supposed to think he was interested? I sent him a text to tell him of my good time with him, but I got no response. I checked Grindr, and sure enough, he was online. Clearly he was ignoring me. I messaged him on Grindr as well. When a day passed and I heard nothing back, I decided he would either deny this or the “relationship” would be dead before it began. “I hope you’re not ignoring me. I thought you were a classier guy than that.” He had given me two different phone numbers, so I asked if I was texting the wrong number. Finally, he responds explaining he was busy and apologized. He told me he was interested in seeing me again as well.

However, after that, I didn’t hear from him again. I know when I’m not particularly interested in a guy, I don’t outright tell him that. However, I don’t talk to him about future dates to lead him on. It was very disappointing, but I wasn’t going to let one guy get me down. My Grindr diet was slowly working. I was back to concentrating on dates and not sex. Hopefully, with enough time, I’d find a good guy to settle down with — Someone to be the reason I delete Grindr forever…

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Dinner Reunion

Smiles and I made plans over the Christmas break to share a home-cooked meal my first full night back in town. I was greatly looking forward to it after not seeing him for a week. We’d spent a week apart before, but not over Christmas. Something about it made it tougher for me to get through.

That morning, Smiles sent me a text. He was wishing me luck on my first day back in the office after being away for some time. It was a truly sweet gesture considering how out of character this was for him. Since I left him, he was showering me with attention I didn’t normally receive. I attribute this to our conversation the night before I dropped him at the airport. That was just my assumption, but the only other factor that changed was spending time apart.

Out of the blue, in the middle of the afternoon, he picked up the phone and called me. I’d told him I had to go to the office that week, but there was little chance I would actually be working, so I guess he felt I’d have the free time to chat. It was a very welcomed distraction from my Facebook status perusal and email correspondences.

He called out of boredom. He couldn’t seem to motivate himself to work. He was still in vacation mode from being away. “My head is still at the beach,” he added. I told him there was no need to dive back into everything unless it was urgent. We all have lazy days. Why not ease back into the workload?

Before Christmas, I bought two cashmere hats from Bonobos. Smiles had mentioned interest in similar hats. I bought them just in case we made a last-minute decision to exchange presents. I could ship them back free of charge and Smiles would be none the wiser, but that seemed like a waste. I got a great deal on them considering how much he paid for the last one he purchased, so I decided I was going to ask if he wanted them. It wouldn’t be a gift — I would just be facilitating the deal.

“Are you still interested in cashmere hats, and what is your price point?” I asked. He told me anything under $80 each, which was $20 more than what I paid for them. I decided I was going to show him the hats and come clean about how I came to purchase them. I was worried I would look anxious in his eyes, but since we had our talk about where we were, I decided I needed to start being more of myself. It’s very much like me to do something slightly awkward and come clean about it. I’m very honest when it comes to things like that, shame or no shame. If he didn’t like it, then he didn’t like me.

That night after work, he came over. He texted me as he was getting on the PATH. When I didn’t hear from him for over a half hour, I tried calling and texting. I was getting no response. I wasn’t sure what happened, but I was hoping the meal wouldn’t be overdone waiting for him. Finally, he told me he’d arrived in Hoboken. When he got to my apartment, he told me he’d gotten on the wrong PATH train and ended up in Jersey City. He had to switch over and come back towards Hoboken.

I filled plates for the two of us, and we sat on the couch to eat dinner while we watched TV. Smiles loved the meal. He said it was cooked perfectly and everything was delicious. I was very proud and thrilled with how much he enjoyed it. One thing I love to do is cook for a man, especially when I get such rave reviews.

While we watched TV, my attention was constantly stolen by the reflection of headlights on the windows across the street. He kept asking what I was looking at, and when I told him, he poked fun at my inability to keep my attention fixed. We had a good laugh about it.

Smiles asked if I had any ice cream to finish our meal (you know him and his sweet tooth). I didn’t have any. We had two options. We could venture back out into the cold to pick up a pint, or we could settle for a variety of candy I had stashed in my room. He settled on the candy.

After dinner, we moved things into the bedroom. I was anxious to hop into bed with Smiles, just to feel his body against mine. I didn’t even care if it involved sex. I just wanted to be close to him. But, before we hopped into bed, I decided to bite the bullet on the hats. I explained, and he decided he wanted to keep the gray hat and have me return the black since he already had one. He gave me cash, and the transaction was complete. I was glad I didn’t just send the hats back without consulting him as many of my friends suggested (I have a habit of doing what I want even against my friends’ better judgment).

We laid in bed and exchanged random stories. We discussed how he was healing after his appendectomy. Like I said before, I was going to start being myself, so I told him the ridiculous story about my belly button. For some unknown reason, when I was in college and I got drunk, I would encourage my friends to feel my belly button. I was a swimmer so I had a flat stomach, and when I got drunk, I like the way it felt (maybe the beer pushed it out a bit). I insisted it was incredibly sexy and even took some of my friends’ finger and guided it to my belly button. I also proceeded to tell him about the time my belly button was handpicked as the body shot glass for a bachelorette party when I was in Key West. “ ‘Wow! You have the Grand Canyon of belly buttons!’ one girl shouted,” I told him. He laughed and looked at me like I was from another planet as he examined my belly button.

The rest of the night was more of the same — Lots of cuddling and chatter, but no sex. I was fine with this, as I was just happy to have him in my bed. We both brushed our teeth and climbed under the covers. I was going to bed a happy man that night, and I was looking forward to waking in the morning to a sexy man in bed next to me.

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