One Gay at a Time
Posts Tagged disgusting
Revisiting the Past
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 15, 2012
Relationships aren’t easy. No matter whether you’re friends or lovers, each relationship is accompanied by its own set of issues. When you introduce sex into these relationships, things get exponentially more complicated.
Tuesday, I engaged in unprotected sex with M.E. It happened in the middle of the night in the passion of a moment, however, there is never an excuse. People’s lives are at stake. I tell you about the poor decisions and the mistakes I’ve made because I hope you can learn from them.
From that morning on, I was on damage control. I’d already talked to him about what transpired between us, and we agreed to get tested and share our results to ensure we were safe going forward. I called a doctor’s office and made an appointment that Wednesday following work to have an STD test.
As I walked into the doctor’s office, I noticed a few other men sitting in the waiting room. I had never been to this facility before. I was curious if they were there for the same thing I was. I began to wonder what was going through their heads. Were they petrified? Were they already infected? etc. I myself began to worry a little. I wasn’t particularly worried until I walked into the waiting room. There was nothing I could do at that point, so I tried to calm my nerves. The only good part about this was it made me quite ready to fill a cup with my urine sample. They also drew blood and told me to call in three days for my results.
Now, it was the waiting game. I couldn’t do anything and would have to wonder for three days.
That night, I had plans with P to go see Silence, The Musical. After my tests, I walked all the way downtown to meet her for dinner near the theater. Dinner was very nice. I got her caught up on all the latest action in my life. She’s always incredibly supportive, even when I make poor life choices.
We went to the show, and about two minutes in, I noticed how attractive one of the male actor/dancers was. It was a small theater, and any time he was on stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When they came out for curtain call, he caught my eye, and we made eye contact. There was a bit of an awkward moment, but I was crushing a bit.
I wasn’t intimidated because I’d already dated someone who worked on Broadway. This was Off-Broadway. I didn’t think twice about what I was about to do. That night, when I got home, I decided to do some research (and when I say research, I mean stalking). I pulled out the Playbill and looked to see if I could find him on Facebook. Much to my surprise, he was on there. I decided to message him. What the hell, why not? What did I have to lose?
I’m sure you’re wondering who this is, and I really hope this doesn’t come off incredibly creepy. I myself can’t believe I’m about to send you this. (And, something tells me I may not be the first).
First off, I came to see Silence tonight and thought you were incredibly cute and incredibly talented. Your mother must be so proud.
Second off, I have no idea if you’re single or even gay. But gay or straight, single or taken, I’d love to strike up a conversation with you. On the flip side, I fully understand if this makes you uncomfortable.
Anyway, with nothing to lose but a little dignity, I thought I’d give it a shot. Hit me back if you’re interested in chatting some time. If not, enjoy the flattery…
Then, I noticed he was a friend of Broadway, the guy I dated for ten months. I pulled out my phone and texted him to see what their relationship was. His response was, “Who is that?” I explained who he was and how they were Facebook friends. “Oh yes. We audition together. HOT!! You dating?” I told him, “No. I just cold called him on Facebook after seeing his show… LOL. We’ll see what happens. Think I creeped him out?” He felt I did creep him out, but I explained how I had nothing to lose.
Sadly, I never heard back from him. It just wasn’t meant to be.
Much later that night, I received a text from the guy I had sex with when I cheated on N. We’d been texting a bit recently after noticing each other on Grindr. He asked if I was up. I replied, and he asked if he could come over. Apparently, I was getting a booty call. It was about 11:30, but I didn’t see the harm. After all, I did fantasize about the first time we had sex quite often. It was something my mind went back to many times. This isn’t because of the cheating. It was simply because the sex was that good.
He came over, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit. He immediately commented on how crazy it was that my new apartment looked exactly like my last. He began taking his shoes off before hopping on the bed with me. He immediately began making out with me interspersed with conversation. He never got closure with how messed up things ended between him, N and myself.
He wanted to talk a lot about him. I would have been fine if N never even came up in conversation. I learned they got together once after I told him to take a hike. It was hysterical how much their accounts of this encounter were completely different. The only commonality was how much disdain they had for each other. At one point he mentioned how dirty N was. I asked him to clarify as in physically or as in naughty. He then went on to describe a particular body part that would only have been encountered during sex and how disgusting it was. He then went on to tell me they never had sex. He told me N just gave him a blowjob and he finished on his face. He pointed out his surprise I ever dated N. N’s account of the story was they met on the street. After seeing him, he couldn’t believe I would hook up with someone so ugly, let alone cheat on him with someone of that caliber. All I could do was laugh my a$$ off in my head. These two were ridiculous. I was so happy I cut things off with both when I did.
After the N conversation concluded, he really wanted to have sex with me. He mentioned how amazing it was the last time we hooked up, and he told me he hadn’t had sex with a man since the previous summer. I told him how hot it was last time we hooked up and how I referred back to it many times in my mind. With that, the clothes began to strip off.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were intertwined in each other’s embrace making out. I found myself lying on my stomach with him on top of me. I knew he would try to penetrate me, but I wasn’t game for that. The last time he did that, I sprang from the bed because he did it with no preparation and full force. I wasn’t about to let that happen again. He tried and tried, and I never relaxed to allow entry. I think he got embarrassed with his fumbling, and he made a comment. I complimented him and told him he was too large for me. We switched positions, much to his chagrin, and now I was the one on top. He was on his back, and I put his legs up on my shoulders.
He told me how much he enjoyed me inside him because I hit his prostrate just right. With that, I slipped inside him. It felt amazing. It was just as good as the last time I played over and over again in my mind’s eye. He loved it too. After a short while, he finished on his abdomen. Seconds later, I alerted him I was about to finish. He replied, “I want you to shoot inside me,” and I did. For me, this was a first, and it felt incredible.
I’m not sure why, but I had no problem finishing this time. It completely came naturally and without over thought. I felt amazing and incapacitated all in one. We lay there next to each other speechless for a minute before even moving or talking. We were in euphoria.
When that wore off, I became the topic of conversation. N told him about the blog when everything went down. He told me he read part of it and still didn’t understand why I wrote it. He also asked this story not make an appearance, but I find it too important to exclude. He pointed out I was looking for a boyfriend, and that was not what he was looking for at all. He pointed out how I was going about things all the wrong way if I wanted to find love. I explained to him all my trials and tribulations and what I was looking for in the end. He fully understood.
Then he made a comment about how stupid we were to not use a condom. I agreed. I’m sure he was far more worried about the situation than I was since I finished inside him. Apparently, with everything I’ve been through, I still didn’t learn my lesson. I wasn’t being responsible.
This was my wake-up call. I’d hit rock bottom. I’d gotten so reckless with my life. I needed to stop before I did something that could end my life. What was I doing? How could I be this stupid? This wasn’t how to find love — Having unprotected sex with the guy I cheated on my ex with. No more excuses. No more Grindr hookups. No more strangers. If I wasn’t finding love, I would be single and celibate for some time until I got myself under control. This was my turning point.Follow @onegayatatime
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Why Do I Make Such Poor Decisions?
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 3, 2012
Another Friday, and I used up yet another carryover vacation day. This one would kick off a staycation lasting over week long. I was beholden to no schedule and no one.
Once again, I woke up horny and turned to my go-to. I fired up Grindr and began to search for someone to satisfy the animal within. When over an hour passed by and had no luck, I turned to my computer. I checked adam4adam.com for any messages. I had a few, but no one seemed to be around for the day. I cast out a net to see what was out there. I began messaging some of the guys who lived in Hoboken and the surrounding area. Some of the guys were online, many were not.
After some time, I got some responses. I exchanged messages with a few guys, but they were all preoccupied or messaging me from work on their phone. This was turning out to be a bust, and I’d already wasted hours doing this. Geez, what was I doing with my life! But, I was still horny. Rather than turn to porn and finish myself off, I continued to search.
Then, out of the blue, a guy, who had messaged me many times before, sent me a message. He was horny and looking for fun. His profile was pretty bare, which is why I’d rejected him so many times before. However, this time I was a bit “desperate.”
I responded to his message and learned he lived close by. We talked about what he was looking for. I learned he was a “hungry bottom.” He was looking for some no-strings-attached action, and I was too. I told him to come by my place.
Half an hour later, he buzzed my apartment. When I answered the door, I was a little shocked. He was much smaller than he looked in the pictures. This is not at all what I was expecting. I don’t mean to sound racist here, only descriptive. He was a tiny little Mexican boy. He told me he was 29, but he looked about 18.
This is where I go wrong. Where I should be able to say, “Sorry. I don’t think I can do this,” I don’t because I feel bad they came all the way to my place. Why is this when the nice side of me decides to show its face?
I tell him to come in and show him to my bedroom. He immediately asks me again, “Are you clean?” I reassure him of my negative and clean status. I was a little relieved by his paranoia – It made for a stronger argument that he himself was clean and afraid of contracting something. At least I knew this guy was safe.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. With that, he undid my pants and began orally pleasuring me. He had a mint in his mouth, and this was certainly a new one for me. Everything tingled. I’m still not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. I’m also still not sure if he did it on purpose, or if he just happened to be concerned with his fresh breath.
After a short while, he turned around and began to grind his a$$ in my crotch. He asked me to get a condom and lube. He was bent over the foot of my bed while I penetrated him. He thoroughly enjoyed it. He told me to keep going until I finished. “I’m here to serve you,” he added. “I want you to finish inside me.” I wasn’t sure this was a request I could fulfill. I have enough of a problem finishing without the added hindrance of the condom’s desensitizing nature. I alternated between penetration and self stimulation to see if I could manage to finish, but it was no use. Finally, with the right combination, I ripped off the condom and finished all over his back, accidentally hitting him in the back of the head with a shot. He began to spread it around when I told him I would get him a towel. He didn’t seem to mind nor need one, but I insisted on wiping what was left of my DNA off his back. He was going to find it to be an incredibly uncomfortable ride home in the car if I didn’t.
He turned and asked if he could suck on my toes. I’d never had that request live in person before, but I was game. After my toes were thoroughly bathed, while he pleasured himself to no finish, he collected his clothes and got dressed. I saw him to the door, and with that, he was gone.
I felt so disgusting. I didn’t waste one more second before jumping in the shower. Everything I did was safe, but I still felt incredibly dirty. I needed to wash the shame down the drain as well. I found myself asking the question once again, “What the f*ck are you doing!?” I decided then and there I wasn’t going to turn this into a trend over my staycation. I was going to turn things around. This staycation was going to be all about me bettering myself. I was going to eat right, relax, read, tan, go to the gym… No more was I going to call random guys for sex. I needed to move on and stop giving myself excuses.
This was a fine plan. Now I just needed to stick to it!Follow @onegayatatime
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A Colombian Night
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on April 23, 2012
After a very nice date Wednesday, I was pretty happy. It had been a while since I had a good first date. I spent a lot of time having strings of bad first dates or finding guys to simply have fun with and send on their way. Nothing was fulfilling, but for the first time since PR, I was hopeful.
Thursday nights are always my volleyball nights. It’s the one night of the week I get to fulfill my competitive edge and work out some of the frustrations that have built up over the week. I always look forward to it, and I almost always commence the night at my favorite watering hole, McSwiggans.
Before riding home on the motorcycle from volleyball, I checked Grindr to see if I had any messages. A few started flowing in as soon as I opened the application. Where I play volleyball is a hotbed for Hispanic Grindrs and it seems they flock to me like a moth to the flame.
When I got home, I started chatting with one guy who seemed nice enough. When I told him where I lived, he was confused why I showed up so much closer. I explained to him why I was in his neighborhood. He was disappointed to hear I’d already left the area. “We could have grabbed a drink or something.” I told him it wouldn’t have worked out since I had the motorcycle and was disgusting from playing three games.
I did, however, invite him to come to Hoboken and join my friends and I at the bar. I had already texted a few friends and told them to meet me there. Two of my friends were already in the process of getting ready to meet me.
He entertained the idea for a few minutes before finally accepting my offer and dragging his roommate along for the ride. I was going into this arrangement mainly thinking this would be a friendly drink. I made it clear I had friends with me so he wouldn’t think I was asking him out on a date.
I arrived at the bar at the same time my friends did. We grabbed beers and sat at one of the tables. I informed both my friends a guy and his roommate would be coming by to hang out. My male friend looked very leery, but I told him this was just a friendly drink thing. I think he was worried he was basically going to sit through one of my dates. After some time passed, my Hispanic Grindr friend and I started texting. He arrived and was sitting at the bar. I had walked up and ordered right next to him without noticing him there.
I immediately walked over and said hi to him and his roommate and introduced myself. I called my two friends over to introduce them as well.
It wasn’t long before my male friend’s comfort level dropped, and he decided to meet other friends at another bar. My female friend, P, was hitting it off with the guy I met through Grindr. They are both Colombian and were sharing a few stories. The other guys seemed very nice and decently cool. We started with the small talk and then got into more of a discussion. It was nice, but I wasn’t really attracted to this guy at all. This was purely going to be a friendly drink. We talked for at least another hour, and more than a few rounds later, we decided to head out.
He was a really nice guy, and we all left at the same time. P lived uptown and in the direction they were heading to go home, so they offered to give her a ride home. They were parked in the direction of my apartment, so I agreed to walk them to their car at the least before heading home. As we got closer, the convinced me to hop in and let them drop me off. I finally agreed.
When we got to my apartment, it was slightly awkward because I could tell this guy wanted a moment alone with me. Maybe he wanted a kiss out of the night. I don’t know. I reached up and tapped his shoulder and said, “Thanks for coming down here. It was fun. We should connect again sometime soon.” He smiled and agreed. It was my subtle way of letting him down easy without getting his hopes up for a “date.”
Finally, I was making gay friends without overcomplicating things with hookups or sex. I needed to do more of this. I had one local gay friend, and he was all but married with a serious boyfriend, an apartment, a shared dog and a shared car. This was something I looked forward to, but maybe I needed to find a wingman to help me find the right guy first.Follow @onegayatatime
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At the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
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