Posts Tagged drink

One Relationship, Two Locations

Since Monday night was spent at CK’s, as per usual, we decided to spend our Tuesday night in Hoboken. Tuesday night in the summer is a big night in Hoboken.

CK and I had begun hitting up free yoga on the pier every Tuesday after work. It was a great way to hit the reset button and recharge for a new week. I found myself looking forward to the group outdoor session more and more. We’d even begun to make a few friends in the class.

I got out of work on time and made my way home to grab our yoga mats. CK had to work a little later, so he was going to meet me on the pier. I invited many of my other friends who had hit up yoga once or twice, but no one took the bait. I arrived just barely on time and reserved a spot for the two of us. CK finally arrived a few minutes into class as we continued our poses and relaxing breathing.

Earlier that morning, we planned to attempt to go to the movies that evening as part of Optimum’s Triple Play free movie night in Hoboken. I myself don’t have the service, so I have to borrow a friend’s card and hope he has no intention of going. When I learned we wouldn’t be able to get ahold of his pass, we decided to forgo the movies. Instead, we swung by the grocery store on our way home to share a home-cooked dinner for two.

We enjoyed our food on the couch in front of the TV, relaxing for the rest of the evening. It was nice to cuddle up next to him and watch TV. It was beginning to feel like a routine. Even though we still lived in separate apartments, it felt like we were living together. We spent nearly every night in each other’s company. The only difference was we had two residences.

We’d talked about moving in together. Neither of us was thrilled with our current roommate situations. Mine were simply disrespectful and unappreciative, and his… Well, we could be here all day. Every day was a new shady dealing. He needed to get out, and his lease was scheduled to be renewed in November. We didn’t make a concrete decision we would live together at that time, but we both began entertaining the idea.

I know many of you are shocked by the timeline there. Come November, we’ll have been dating for eight months. I know that sounds like a very short time to be together before moving in together, but like I said, it was almost as if we already lived together. Not much would be different. We both agreed this would be a goal for now, not a definitive date.

When bedtime arrived, we made our way to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Things took a bit of a detour when CK began seducing while I brushed my teeth. From there, things only got better. The sex was great. We were back on our game. And, true to our fashion, we flipped. That seemed to be how things went for us. Neither was a top, and neither was a bottom. We both experienced all the parts of sex. Our sex-life was very healthy and diverse. I’d finally found my match both inside and outside the bedroom. He managed to satisfy my physical and emotional needs. I was truly happy.

I thought about all the others before him. They seemed a distant memory. None of them came close to my relationship with my Superman. Many of them treated me poorly and didn’t deserve my love. Some of them attempted to love me, but the connection wasn’t there. I didn’t regret a single one of them, for they all brought me to where I am today. Sure, I was still carrying around some of the scars, but I was a stronger man for them. Those were my battle wounds. Those were my war stories. I didn’t miss any of them, but cherished their presence in my life — Even the a$$holes. I was truly in love, and I didn’t want it to end. The road I’d taken had led me to CK, so looking back, I wouldn’t have changed a single direction.

The next night was spent apart. I was supposed to be getting my review at work, but my boss rescheduled it twice that day, and then he had to schedule it for the following day. I was frustrated and needed to take those frustrations out somewhere.

I hit up the gym to lift and swim to calm my nerves. While there, he calls finally, telling me he’s working late and probably can’t come see me. Once again, I felt disappointed. He asked if I would mind coming into the city, but I wasn’t up for that. After not hearing from him all day, I made alternate plans. I was meeting up with my old roommate for a drink. I suggested maybe we needed to spend the night apart. He agreed.

More and more, I was realizing maybe we had been spending too much time together. Small things were getting on each other’s nerves. I wondered if I was losing my individuality. Now that I was back in the gym again, I was feeling better about myself. I relished my workout time. This was something I put on the back burner after meeting CK. We both needed some “me time” every once in a while.

As time progressed, we would find that balance. We’d only been dating four months. We were still figuring everything out. But, I knew, in the end, we’d figure it out together.

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Date Safely With A Second Mobile Number From MyAKA

We’ve all been there. You’re at the bar. It’s the end of the night, and you’ve had a little too much to drink. This guy has been throwing game at you all night, and he really seems like he could be the one. And, when he asks for your digits, you hand them over like beads at Mardi Gras.

Hours later, when you wake up in the morning to the sound of your phone vibrating on the nightstand, regret sets in. Three missed calls and eight text messages later, you comprehend the huge mistake you’ve made. Better judgment kicks in, and you realize you have no interest in this guy. But, now what? How can you shake this guy? It’s too late. He already has your number.

That’s where MyAKA comes in. No apps to download. No internet required. MyAKA is a privacy protection service which allows you to signup for a second mobile number with a local area code, unlike forwarding services. When using the MyAKA system, those you correspond with only see your MyAKA number.

This number can be given to others when you wish to protect your real phone number. It functions exactly like your mobile number, allowing you to text, call and even get voicemail (in the U.S. & Canada). And, all features are controlled via text message.

Now, with MyAKA, you can easily block that creep from last night (or even unblock him if you have second thoughts). If you’re just not quite sure how you feel about him, send his calls to voicemail or store his texts for later by enabling the Do Not Disturb feature.

Have a little fun! The assigned number is not linked to your information in any way, so put that newfound freedom to good use. In today’s world where your identity is tied to everything, a little anonymity goes a long way.

How about a 7 Day FREE Trial?! What’s the catch? None. With this special offer for my readers you can enjoy seven worry-free days of flirting with MyAKA, without even entering your credit card! And when you decide to keep the service, you can upgrade your number in two easy steps at the MyAKA site.  It’s as simple as that to date safely this fall.  Signup today for a fun second mobile number with no-strings-attached.

This is a sponsored post for MyAKA

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Small Expectations, XL Frustrations

For weeks upon weeks, I stressed about Pride Weekend, and it finally arrived. CK wasn’t helping, and it exploded into an argument over the phone, culminating in a temper tantrum on my part.

We were finally able to come to an agreement, and I went back to packing a bag. Needless to say, I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the weekend ahead of me, but my nerves were slightly calmed after my chat with CK.

I made the voyage into the city to head to CK’s apartment. The plan was to head to XL that night. I’m not quite sure why, but none of CK’s friends were joining us that night. We had plans to hang with some of them the following day/night, but we were on our own for XL. I would have preferred to have more familiar faces around me in such an unfamiliar place, but that wouldn’t be the case. I got dressed with a little help from CK, but of course this turned into a bit of a heated discussion. Our nerves were very exposed, and he was encouraging me to expand my wardrobe comfort zone further than I was ready to. I wanted to fit in, but I still wanted to stay true to myself. I didn’t want to dress like everyone else there, however, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t stand out.

As we walked there, I was very quiet. CK and I were holding hands as we walked the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but all I could think about was how I could make myself feel comfortable in this foreign land. As we approached the entrance, there were gay men in every direction. I felt reasonably comfortable with my wardrobe choice and laughed to myself a little at some of the ridiculous outfits. I know this is going to come off as if I saw myself as better than them, but quite the opposite. I give them a lot of credit for feeling so comfortable in their own skin that they dress the way they do, but I could never pull it off. I would feel too uncomfortable and self-conscious, and then I’m absolutely no fun to be around. That was one of my main worries going into this weekend — I would feel uncomfortable, clam up, and I would be no fun to be with.

The cross-dressing boy checked our IDs, and we made our way inside to pay the cover charge. CK had some kind of VIP card and encouraged me to sign up for one with one of the boys holding iPads for just that thing. We paid, and I was a little shocked how expensive the cover was just to get in. Obviously, it was cheaper for CK since he was a member, but overall I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t aware of any talent performing that would justify the rate being so high.

As we made our way inside, I needed a drink bad! There were men in every direction, half without shirts on already. This wasn’t my kind of place. I liked the run-down pubs where the bartenders knew my name and they played good music. This, on the other hand, was a scene. We made our way to the bar and ordered drinks from a shirtless bartender who made me feel I needed to go to the gym immediately. I downed my first drink pretty quickly. The only way I would survive this would be with some help from some special spirits.

We made our way down to the dance-floor and started dancing and grinding with each other in front of the fog machine. I’m not sure why we didn’t relocate. At one point, I couldn’t breath, let alone see CK in front of me, and his back was pressed against my chest. Directly in front of me was a feast for the eyes. There were go-go boys dancing on the stage wearing very skimpy briefs. Some of the guys had the most gorgeous bodies with cute smiles, and it was hard to divert my attention at times. I even received a text from my old roommate asking me if I wanted to go out. I responded telling him where I was, and he jokingly responded reprimanding me for not inviting him. That’s when I responded with a picture message, to which he said, “Okay. Never mind. I’m good.”

I wasn’t the only one on his phone throughout the evening. CK was on his phone a lot when we were together, so this was nothing out of the ordinary, however, I wasn’t aware of the plans he was making over text. Minutes before he walked through the door, CK informed me the guy from his old building he used to hook up with would be joining us. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. I can be very reasonable, but the idea of hanging out with one of CK’s old hookups didn’t thrill me. It also didn’t exactly seem on the up-and-up since he waited until he was walking through the front door to tell me he was joining us.

When he arrived, CK gave him, who we’ll call Old News, a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was thrilled to see him. I swallowed my pride and extended a hand to shake his. From then on, and for quite some time, CK and Old News were deep in conversation. I felt like a third wheel in my own relationship.

We began to make our way to the bar to get another round. CK and Old News walked ahead of me, and as I climbed the stairs, a guy extended his arm out to shove me out of his way as he passed me. It was so obvious my mind flashed back to my days on the basketball court in junior high. He wasn’t being subtle at all. He was also messing with the wrong guy at the wrong time. I wasn’t about to let this little sh*t get away with it. I was already on edge on so many levels. I gave him a solid shove back in the opposite direction, so much that he stumbled down a stair. When his glance came back up to meet mine, I looked at him in a way of saying, “Go ahead. Bring it! What you got?” Me being 6′ 2″ and him being about 5′ 7″, he immediately turned and walked the other way.

When I got to the bar, of course CK and Old News were ordering and didn’t quite notice I was lagging behind. I understand the need to catch up, but I felt I had no part in the conversation. After I was handed my drink, I felt so outside the conversation, I simply walked away and stood at the railing overlooking the dance-floor. It took CK quite some time to even notice I’d stepped away.

From then on, Old News was attached to us. When we went to the bathroom, he came. When we danced, the circle was opened up to him. I didn’t think we would ignore him for the rest of the night, but I felt like he always made sure to put himself between myself and CK. I was shocked and  happy to say, I was actually having a great time with CK before he arrived. We were dancing shirtless and taking pictures in front of the fog machine and on stage. I finally felt comfortable in this new setting. I was no longer concerned with anyone else’s eyes on me. My only slight concern was CK’s eyes on anyone else. My whole mood went to sh*t the minute this intruder arrived. I wasn’t just dealing with being at the club anymore — I was having fun, but now I was back to being miserable again. I tried to be cordial with him, but I was not happy with his presence. He and CK hooked up at one point, and while CK assured me they were just friends, I was never quite sure Old News fully got that memo. I could tell he still had feelings for CK. He was very flirtatious, and took every opportunity to exclude me when possible.

In the middle of the night, a crazy drag queen named Ebonee Excell came out and performed. It was a welcome distraction. When the go-go boys came back out on stage, I recognized one of them from the Meet Me at the Ice Cream Truck music video.

Finally, our night was coming to an end. We were ready to head home. CK was hungry for sex, so we said our goodbyes to Old News and made our way back to CK’s bed. Old News may have garnered CK’s attention throughout the night, but in the end, I got to go home with him. He was my man! But, neither of us were quite expecting what was to come next…

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Ladies and Gentleman, My Boyfriend

The morning after my “wild night,” I woke early. I was happy to realize I didn’t have a hangover, but I had a lot to do. I sat at my desk and went through circulars to make a grocery list, I went over my to-do list, I cleaned my bedroom, did two loads of laundry and sorted through my clothes to get rid of some of them. It was a very productive morning. The only thing I didn’t get done was to make it to the gym.

Around 11:00am, CK called. I didn’t want to call him because I was afraid of waking him. I knew he wasn’t a morning person. I was happy to hear his voice. He told me he needed to do laundry and wouldn’t come to Hoboken until about 2:00. I was fine with that. It allowed me to finish what I needed to get done for the morning.

I planned to head over to the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival around 2:00. That’s what I told P and my sister. As I was walking out the door, he called to apologize for running late. He was just walking out the door to hop on the PATH. Obviously he wasn’t going to arrive at 2:00. I told him I’d be at the festival, and I would make my way to him when he arrived.

I managed to find P, my sister and her friend without much effort. P had her dog, Baby, with her and needed to find her water. I told them I needed to make my way to the PATH to get CK, and they were welcome to join me. They all followed. We waited at the PATH for some time before he finally arrived. It was close to 3:45 before he finally arrived. He was running late as usual. I happily introduced him to the three of them, and we made our way back to the festival to find lunch.

Before he arrived, I had a worry in the back of my head. We were used to showing affection openly, but not in Hoboken. I still wasn’t out to everyone I knew around town, and I had my reservations about PDA. I was trying to get over it. There was no reason I shouldn’t feel comfortable being myself. But, I can’t lie. I was very nervous.

That being said, I greeted him with a hug, and we spent a large portion of the day holding hands and our arms around each other. This was a first for me. I did relax a bit and began to let my guard down.

We found the steak sandwiches I’ve gotten many years in the past and hopped in line. My old roommate (also my favorite roommate) was making his way toward us, so I told him where we were. I introduce him to CK, and he reminded me I’d met the girl he was with in the past.

As we ate, we walked uptown chatting. He mentioned wanting to do something special for my birthday that Friday. He asked if I’d be able to get out of work early, and I told him it shouldn’t be a problem. All I knew about this surprise was that it would cater to my adventurous side. I thought it was incredibly sweet of him to plan something special for me.

When we reached the north end of the festival, I was ready for dessert. I hadn’t passed anything along the way I really wanted, so I decided to hit up Ralph’s for some cream ice. I ordered the peanut butter cookie dough, and we shared it. It was utterly amazing.

P, my sister, her friend, CK and I were all heading to City Bistro to grab a drink on the rooftop bar since it was such a nice day. We found a seat and relaxed. I could tell one of the guys on the roof was making comments about CK and I, but I didn’t care. I continued resting my hand on his leg or putting my arm around him. I noticed two guy I thought might be gay and informed CK of the “Pickle game” I’d learned from Boston in Miami. We agreed they were gay.

The time came for us to head out. CK wanted to go for a ride on the motorcycle, and I needed to start dinner. We had to stop at ShopRite on the way home for supplies, and it was a bit of a walk home. CK wasn’t happy, but he did it — Not without complaining most of the way.

When we got home, we cuddled in bed for a few minutes before I told him I wanted him to help me with dinner. As I put the beef roast in the oven, I asked him to slice the potatoes for the scalloped potatoes on the mandolin. I warned him quite pointedly to be careful since the blade was so sharp, and I’d already cut myself pretty severely on it once, as did my mother. When he was cutting the last potato, he sliced his finger pretty badly.

I immediately ran to his rescue. He was bleeding pretty bad, but not enough for stitches. He sliced off a small piece of the tip of his thumb. He was now the third person to cut themselves on that mandolin (Him, my mother, and myself). He couldn’t believe how well I was handling the blood. I told him I was a lifeguard for seven years and had my own share of accidents involving a lot of blood. “Awww. Baby, you’re my lifeguard,” he said. I bandaged him up, told him to hold his arm above his head, gave him some painkillers and told him to sit on the couch. Maybe asking him to help was not a good idea. I thought it would be romantic, but it turned out tragic.

When dinner was ready, we ate in front of the TV. He raved about how good dinner was. We watched the shows I normally record on a Sunday night. It was really nice to have him fit so nicely into my routine. That was a sign our relationship had a solid foundation.

When we got tired, we made our way to my bedroom. He must have been really tired, and he kept dozing off. I wanted sex, but it was quite obvious that wasn’t going to happen. It’d been quite some time since we had sex, but I would have to settle for some cuddling instead.

He was out cold, so I brushed my teeth and came back to bed. I must have roused him, because he too got out of bed to brush his teeth. We turned out the light and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It’s rare to find me happier than when I wake up next to him. It’s impossible not to have a smile from ear-to-ear. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. As per usual, he began to give me a bl*wjob. It was one of his favorite morning activities. He told me he wanted me to finish for him. This is an immediate killer for me. I begin to concentrate on that alone. (I really need to see someone about this!) After a while, I told him it was time to shower. I scooped him up and carried him to the shower. He began bl*wing me outside the shower as well. I was too distracted in the bathroom, so I grabbed his hand and led him back to the bed. He felt amazing, and when he began teasing my boys with his tongue, I used my hand to get me over the edge.

“Baby. You taste so sweet today!” he told me. I was a bit shocked to hear this considering N told me I tasted awful. This made me like CK so much more in that moment. Seconds later, he exploded all over his own abdomen. It was incredibly hot to watch.

We went back to the shower and cleaned up. That morning, we joked about water sports. He threatened to pee on me in the shower. I told him if he did, I would certainly be returning the favor. When I saw his warm stream hitting my feet, I delivered on my promise. Both of us immediately got weirded out, and that ended immediately. “Yea. That’s definitely not going to be a thing!” I exclaimed. He nodded his head in sever agreement. Afterwards, I bandaged his finger once again and gave him a band-aid for the road.

We got ready and made our way to the PATH. I had to say goodbye to him in Hoboken to get my allergy shot, and he hopped on the PATH.

Monday, he called me as I was picking out a wedding card at CVS. He wanted to know if I was still in the city so we could meet up for a bit. I’d just gotten off the PATH five minutes prior. He was hopping elevator, so he told me he’d call me when he got up to his apartment, but I didn’t hear back from him.

I sent him a picture message of a t-shirt saying “I would cuddle you so hard.” He didn’t acknowledge the message. When I called later that evening, he seemed weird. He told me he was reading Hunger Games and sounded like I woke him up. The conversation was very short and awkward, so I just said goodnight and went to bed.

We made plans for Tuesday, but work got in the way for him. I proposed getting together Wednesday night at my place for Revenge again instead. I also left work early to pick up my new custom-made bed. I was so excited! I brought it home and assembled it. It was amazing. I sent him pictures, and he responded, “Can’t wait to break it in!” He also asked me if I would be interested in a show at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. I told him that sounded great. Later Tuesday night, I texted him, but got no response until 12:30, just after I dozed off.

The question of fidelity did cross my mind for a hot second. I wondered if we needed to have the exclusivity conversation or was that covered under the can I be your boyfriend conversation? It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but my mind can run wild at times. I was just going to keep it in the back of my mind until I decided whether it was necessary to bring it up…

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Half Day Fun

Monday at work, I received a email from UPS notifying me a delivery attempt was made. When I arrived home Monday night, I had a notice on my door from UPS. They’d been there earlier in the day and attempted to deliver the leather chair I ordered. No one was home, but luckily the driver gave me his cellphone number so I could call him when I got home. I called him, and he delivered my chair around 7:30 at night. (I love my UPS man!)

I’d already informed work I’d be taking a half-day to accept the chair, so I kept those plans. It would allow me to take care of a few things after my emotional trip to LA.

Since I didn’t have to get up early Tuesday morning for work, I decided to reach out to a guy I’d been chatting with for quite some time on Grindr. I was very apprehensive because he was so young. He is 22 and is still in college. I told him straight up my hang-up with his age. That being said, I still agreed to meet him, but I explained it wasn’t an ideal situation.

When we first talked on Grindr, he was looking mainly for a hookup. He had an amazing body, but I was making an effort to calm down with the hookups. I told him I was looking for something more substantial. He was very interested in this response, but he already showed his cards. I knew he was there more for sex. We agreed to meet up for a drink sometime, and I went to bed.

Tuesday morning, I let my hormones get the better of me. I woke up horny as usual, and I found him on Grindr once again. I asked him if he wanted to come over. The conversation quickly morphed into sexual territory.

We both talked about a few fantasies, and I quickly learned he had an adventurous side. I was very turned on, so I told him to come over. He explained he needed to shower but would be up for coming over. I too showered in anticipation of his arrival.

While we talked about our fantasies, we discussed a little fun when he arrived. I told him how hot it would be if he undressed in the hallway before entering my apartment while I watched through the peek hole. He was more than enthusiastic about this and agreed.

When he arrived at my apartment, I buzzed him in. He came to the door and did exactly as we discussed. I was so incredibly turned on watching from the other side of the door. When he was left in his boxer briefs, he knocked. I let him in and led him to my room. We chatted very short bit before we started making out. He stripped me down to my boxers as well, and we embraced each other while we made out on the bed.

He had a great body — Plenty of muscles and lots of definition. He had the cutest smile as well! Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. This escalated, and the boxers ended up on the floor. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. He was the best looking guy I’d been with in a long time. He was also one of the best kissers I’d been with since I can remember.

Before he came over, we chatted about positions. He told me he usually was a top, but he wanted to bottom for me. He told me he had little experience in the area, but wanted to try it out with me. As things escalated, I whispered in his ear my desires and asked him if I should get a condom and lube. He enthusiastically said yes.

I made sure to take things VERY slow. I was treating him as if he was a virgin — Not my first. It took a little time, but after a short bit, he was very much enjoying himself. I could see waves of goose bumps flowing over his body. It was incredibly sexy. I’d finally found a match for passion in the bedroom. He had the right mix of intimacy and sex, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

It became necessary to take a break so he could catch his breath. We talked while he relaxed, mixed in with some more passionate kissing. After some time, we made our way to the edge of the bed and tried a new position, which we both thoroughly enjoyed. It’d been a long time since I was with a man in which I felt our bodies become truly one.

When he had his fill and couldn’t take anymore, we laid next to each other and pleasured ourselves. For once, it didn’t take me too long before I finished. He made a comment about being impressed, but was unable to finish himself. I immediately pegged him as someone who had the same problem I did.

We laid there for some time cuddling. I took a lot of time to take in his smile. It lit up his entire face. He was very cute. He is of a Middle-Eastern decent, which I would never say is my type, but I was really attracted to him.

This guy was one of the few who would be a repeat offender. He too expressed his desire to see each other again as we both got dressed. I was still incredibly turned on watching him stand naked in my room while he put on his clothes. I wasn’t just attracted to him sexually. I could tell he was a special guy. I was attracted to him on an emotional level as well. I just worried about our compatibility. I’ve been out in the workforce for nearly six years now. He still hadn’t even graduated college. I’m not one to discriminate based on age, but I do discriminate on life stage. This would either be a guy who expanded my horizon, or proved my rationale — Only time would tell…

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Short Goodbyes

Still thrilled about a spectacular weekend with Smiles, I began a new week.

Monday passed by without me seeing Smiles again. I did speak to him however. We spoke while I walked home from work. He still had a migraine, and I tried to console him. I wished there was something I could do for him, but I was powerless.

He had a work event that evening, so he soldiered on. His migraine was lessened, but he still wasn’t 100%. I knew it was going to be a long night for him.

He called when the event was over to say hi and check in on me. I always relish his phone calls just to say hi and ask me about my day.

I explained to him I was watching the first Twilight movie. It happened to be on TV that night, so I made it a point to watch in an attempt to catch up to the current day release of Twilight: Breaking Dawn pt. 1. I was also able to find the second and third installments in the series on the guide over the next few days. Smiles seemed excited to see the movie, so I was putting in the effort to get onboard. I have to say, they’re certainly not amazing cinema, they’re not unbearable either.

I asked him to wait to see the movie together in the theater. He agreed. After talking about the series, he realized he’d never see the third installment, Twilight: Eclipse. I told him I would keep it on my DVR, and we could watch it together before hitting up the newest in the theater.

We were also coming up on Thanksgiving. I struggled with the thought of inviting him to come home with me. He is from and his family is still in Florida. I knew he wasn’t planning to go home, but I wasn’t sure if he’d have other plans. The thought of inviting him came from numerous places. I felt we were comfortable with each other, and I knew he would stand well with my family. He was very good at getting along with strangers, and I knew he could win them over, especially since this would be the first time they’d learn about my homosexuality. I knew it would have been a little early in our relationship to ask him to come home with me, and this is the main reason why I didn’t. I didn’t want him to think I was a little psycho.

In the meantime, I learned he finally did make plans for Thanksgiving. He was going to a few friends’ homes out on Long Island in the Hamptons and on Fire Island. I was happy he found some special people to spend the holiday with, but was a little disappointed I wouldn’t be spending it with him.

Before I went home, and he split for Long Island, I wanted to see him again. I suggested we grab coffee or something quick because I knew he would be quite busy with work leading up to our departures on Wednesday. He told me we’d have to play it by ear, but he would make a concerted effort to work it out.

I was worried I wasn’t going to see him before the long holiday weekend. We’d spent other weekends apart, so this shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but to me it was. I wasn’t spending the holiday with him, so I wanted the next best thing.

Tuesday evening I had a dermatologist appointment to have an ingrown hair taken care of. We were going to attempt to meet after as long as time allowed for it in his schedule.

It turned out he was able to meet. In the rain, I made my way to Lyon to grab a drink with him before he was going out to dinner with business colleagues who were in town for the week.

This was the first time I’d see him following a workday in which he interacted with clients. He looked very smart and super cute. It was all I could do to keep my hands off him. He was happy to see me, but I could tell he was pretty exhausted from a long day. We ordered some small dishes because I was ready for dinner, and his dinner wasn’t until 10:00 or 11:00. The conversation was nice, and we discussed our plans for the weekend. He also expressed concern for the incision on my abdomen from the dermatologist. When we finished, we paid the bill and began to walk towards the PATH/his subway.

We popped into a fun travel amenities shop to check out some of the cool things we noticed in the front window.

We walked a little further and reached his subway. He began to descend the staircase, and I called after him to explain I wouldn’t be joining him since it didn’t take me near the PATH. He walked back up a few steps and gave me a quick kiss as he said goodbye.

It was very unceremonious and not very romantic, but I decided to concentrate on the fact that I got to spend time with him at all before he left.

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Sex On The Beach

Friday had come and gone on the island, and I behaved myself. I was trying to enjoy my time with my friends and stop thinking about finding a guy to hang out with, hookup or not. But, when Saturday rolled around and most of my friends were all coupled up, I started feeling lonely once again.

We went to a bar in Oak Bluff, Offshore Ale Company, to pregame for a night on the town. We ordered plates of french fries and tried some of the many beers they offered on tap. Everyone was well on their to a drunk night.

Throughout the night, I texted the Russian and tried to get him to come out to the bar. He wasn’t interested. However, he was quite horny and was looking to meet up with me. He proposed we hit up a remote stretch of beach between Oak Bluff and Vineyard Haven. He told me he’d drive over and pick me up in twenty minutes. I had patchy service everywhere  on the island (Thanks for nothing T-Mobile!), so I was worried he wasn’t going to be able to reach me. Ironically, that night at the bar, I had exceptional service, but almost forty minutes passed by with no word from him. I texted, but I received no response.

I figured he was either running behind or something came up, so I contined to hang out with my friends. Ironically, I ran into my college teammate’s best friend whom I’ve drank with many times in Hoboken. We chatted a bit before he needed to leave, and then I made my way back to the rest of the gang.

I excused myself to go outside to call the Russian and see what was up. I told everyone I’d be back in a minute after I made a phone call. When I got outside, I saw him standing by his car. He apologized for not getting back to me because he forgot his phone at home. I hopped in his car, and we left for the beach. I texted one of my friends to explain I wasn’t coming back in the bar, but I would join up with them later in the night.

We pulled off the road into a small parking lot by the beach. Just as we were walking down to the sand, another car pulled up. We figured we’d need to walk a bit to get out of site of the new arrivals. It didn’t help the moon was bright that night. (Warning: The following may be too graphic for some). When we found a spot, we started to make out. He unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. He got down on his knees in the sand and went to town. He felt amazing. Already, this was much better than the ginger and the construction site. All attention was coming to me, and I was basking in it. He took off his sweatshirt and laid it on the ground and laid down on his back on top of it. I laid on top of him. By now, both our shirts were off and our pants were around our ankles.

We agreed there would be no penetration, but we were going to have our fun in other ways. And, boy did we. We tried many positions and permutations, trying to avoid getting sandy at all times. After we finished decorating the sand, we got dressed carefully and walked back to the car. The last thing I wanted was to spend the rest of the night at the bar with sand in my clothes and boxers. We sat on the hood of the car and shared a cigarette. When it was finished, we hopped in, and he drove me back to town where my friends were drinking and dancing at the bar.

I arrived too late and was not granted access, however, this worked out well because some friends were heading home anyway. I joined them to head home for some late-night mac n’ cheese.

It was nice to have a friend with benefits on the island. He lived on the island year-round and makes his living in various ways, one of which is photography. This would be the last action I got on my vacation, but that didn’t mean the conversation ended there.

Since leaving Martha’s Vineyard, I became Facebook friends with the Russian. The Boston guy with the girlfriend has made it a point to text and email me the dates he is coming to New York City. The ginger photojournalist has texted me once to reiterate the good time he had and to ask how the rest of my vacation was going once he arrived back in D.C. Overall, it was a nice ego boost. Apparently I’m that good and hot enough they felt the need to followup.

Most likely, I will never see any of them again, but I take with me some fun memories and new experiences. Just as my vacation was ending, my priorities began to shift. Sex was starting to severely lose its mystique. It tends to do that when you have meaningless sex. I needed a change and this was a good transition point. When I got home, things were going to be different — Or at least that was the plan…

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The Closet Turns in His V-Card

Just when you thought you heard the last from N, he’s made his way right back into the blog. You certainly weren’t the only one. We hadn’t spoken in a while. I got tired of his constant insinuations I was a whore. I was finding myself, and he was certainly not someone who should be judging me. I was over him, but I still wanted his friendship. But, if that meant dealing with the harassment I was receiving, I didn’t need his friendship that much.

On a random Thursday night at 12:30am I received a text from N. This is the conversation that ensued:

N: “Wanna go out? Cmon! Lol. I just got in from dinner with French coworkers.”

Me: “What!?”

“Lol. I took tomorrow off.”

Me: “Haha. Me too.”

N: “Hahahahah. Let’s gay bar. Lol. Jk. N’ play with men.”

Me: “Haha. Where’s your boy?”

N: “My boy?”

Me: “Yea.”

N: “He’s home. I just said I wanna play. Not hookup.”

Me: “I wasn’t saying that.”

N: “I’m not a slut.”

Me: “I didn’t say you were. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

N: “Can I put something else in your mouth instead?”

Me: “Lol. I’m not a slut. Haha.”

N: “I bet. ;)”

Me: “Okay. Maybe a lil”

N: “Pig”

Me: “?”

N: “Joke”

Me: “You at home?”

N: “Yup.”

Me: “Not going to the bar, but I’ll hang on the balcony if you’re down… Bored…”

TIME PASSES

Me: “Ha! Waiting for a better offer?… Haha”

N: “STFU. I’m smoking with my roommate.”

Me: “Enjoy.”

THE NEXT MORNING

N: “God, I was wrecked.”

Me: “Any interest in a trip to the gym uptown?”

N: “I’m going into work in five. Taking a cab. Or else I would.”

Me: “I thought you took the day off?”

N: “I think I’m going there from now on. I saw your old roommate there Wednesday.”

Me: “I know. Don’t change your gym for him. He’s not gonna blow you in the sauna…”

N: “Okay. I wasn’t changin’ for your weird unattractive ex-roommate, or for a sauna blowjob. But thanks for looking out.”

Me: “Any time.”

N: “Jerk.”

He may have gotten his jibes in, but I certainly didn’t stand there and take it this time. I started out playing along to try to show him the comments didn’t bother me. I thought if I played along, maybe they’d stop. I was wrong. That’s when I realized I needed to throw it right back at him. It seems to have worked. At this point I needed a break. His drunk texts may have been sober thoughts, but I wasn’t playing that game! It just proved to me once again I was the guy who conveniently lived across the street. Only time would heal that wound.

That entire week, Closet was texting me asking for sex. That Friday night I was free, and once again, I was home alone. I told him to come by.

This time, when he arrived, we went straight to the bedroom. We chatted while he took his shoes, shirt and pants off, but that didn’t last long. He lunged for me on the bed and was immediately on top of me, passionately making out. We stripped each other of all clothing and enjoyed each other’s company immensely.

Then, out of nowhere, he informed me he had been doing some preparation that week and asked me to try penetration again. I knew he was a virgin to this and it would certainly be a learning experience for him. I debated if I wanted the responsibility of being his first. He was a really nice guy, and we were having fun. In the five seconds I thought about it, I convinced myself, “Why not?” We were both here just to hook up. Why shouldn’t it be educational as well?

We both prepped, and I began slowly. VERY slowly. He of course winced at first, but soldiered on. I was impressed. After a while he really enjoyed himself, but then all of a sudden he asked to stop. He said he felt the need to urinate. He ran into the bathroom but nothing. He came back, and we began again. He apologized once more and said he had to use the bathroom. Again, nothing. He came back perplexed. I explained it was something he needed to get used to feeling. I was possibly pushing on his bladder or prostate. The whole time we were hooking up, I was slightly distracted. I kept thinking about how much he felt like a kid. He is older than I am, but he certainly felt like the much younger student. It was a strange dynamic. I barely knew what I was doing. How was I teaching someone else?

We began again, and he started to relax and enjoy himself. By the time we finished, he was enjoying himself full force. And thus, a bottom was born!

We laid there and chatted a bit. I got us glasses of water while we talked. After some time passed, we both showered, got dressed, and I gave him a kiss goodbye. I didn’t want to get in too deep with him, but for the time being, we were having fun. I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. I had a feeling as well, this wouldn’t be the last time I saw Closet…

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Your Cheating Heart

Saturday, I woke up fairly later in the morning. N was still sleeping in my bed, and Boston was still sleeping on the couch when I started to make breakfast. I fried up some frozen homemade sausage patties and eggs. In the meantime, my two favorite men woke up and joined me in the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee, and we sat and ate. Boston and I planned to go into the city for the day. He hadn’t been to the city in ten years. He is in music school and asked to check out the original Steinway store to play on some of their finest pianos. We invited N to join, but his plans included shaving his back and getting a haircut.

When breakfast ended, N and I went into my room and fooled around. I was horny since we didn’t do anything the night before and hungry for real sex. But, N wasn’t 100% cooperative. “I feel bad that Boston is out there alone right now. Ya know, we could let him watch,” he said with a wink and a smile. I just laughed it off and continued with my heavy petting. (I did feel bad for Boston because he got out of the shower and all his clean clothes were in my bedroom.) When I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen, we stopped. N went home to get ready for his day of primping, and I showered to get ready for the city. (I would later come to find N accusing me of hooking up with Boston at this point)

When Boston and I arrived in the city, we came upon a street fair. We walked around and got lunch. Following, I showed him some of the major attractions. It was really nice just relaxing with Boston and walking around the city. He started to feel like a little brother. Finally we arrived at the Steinway and Son’s a half hour before they were about to close for a recital. Boston sat at a few of the pianos and blew me away with his talent. I told him if he ever wanted to impress a guy, he should take him to a piano store and it would be in the bag.

We also stopped into to Saks to visit one of Boston’s old friends. We said hi, and he invited us to a house party and a drag show at a bar on the lower east side, Drom.

On the walk back to Port Authority, we passed a few of the pianos sprinkled around the city. I made Boston sit and play after The Naked Cowboy finished tinkering in Times Square. He ended up being filmed by the man in charge of documenting the project. Overall, I’d say it was a good day for Boston.

When we got back to Hoboken, we got dressed to go out and went to my friend K’s for a bbq. We were skipping the house party, but were going to meet them at Drom.

Likewise, N had plans for the night. Originally, he told me he was going out to dinner with friends and they didn’t know if they were staying in the city or coming back to Hoboken. To me, this meant straight friends. I figured i received no details because he wasn’t out to his- fellow diners. I was wrong. As the day went on, I received more details. He was going to dinner with eight gay men, and then it evolved into them going to Industry, a gay bar.

I asked him if it was an issue if we met up at Industry until Boston’s friends went to the lower east side. He told me to come. When Industry had a long line, they decided to go to Ritz, not my favorite bar. Boston and I finished at the bbq and headed to Ritz. On the walk there from Port Authority, I expressed my concerns about N and the night. I told him how shady it felt since he was being somewhat secretive. When we arrived, N’s phone was dying. I tried calling and texting to no avail. We went into the first floor and couldn’t find him anywhere. We tried upstairs to no avail as well. Finally, he texted me back. He was outside to smoking and trying to find us.

When he finally came back in, he was a drunk sweaty mess. I was way too sober to be there. I get very uncomfortable in gay bars for some reason. So, I ordered four straight vodka shots, two of which were for myself. He began to grind his ass in my crotch, and I liked it! This was the first time we could dance together and not create a total scene. A good portion of the night from then on is a blur for me. I got very drunk so I could tolerate the heat and the club and have blacked out a few bits.

When Boston got a text from his friends, we decided to leave. N told me he was coming with us. I was very pleasantly surprised. Boston and I went outside while N said goodbye to his fiends. When ten minutes passed, and he didn’t come out, I went back into the bar. As I was walking up the stairs, I noticed him talking to someone. Men were passing between us going up and down the stairs, but just then I saw him lean in and kiss this man. My heart shattered into a million pieces. In that millisecond, I felt my world crumbling around me. I know it was just one little kiss, but the fact that he was talking to another man, exchanging numbers and kissing broke my heart. I was crushed.

I didn’t know what to do other than run. I turned and sped down the stairs. He must have seen me at that instant because he chased after me. He tried to spin me around by grabbing my shoulder, but I flung my arms into the air and shouted, “Don’t touch me!” All that went through my head at that point was how many other guys were you grinding on and kissing before I arrived at the bar? We never had the exclusive conversation, but at that point, he was sleeping in my bed almost every night. We were in a relationship, even if it wasn’t defined.

He tried to calm me down on the street, but I was making a scene. I didn’t know what to do. When I get heated I get loud. He asked me to have a conversation and stop shouting, but I couldn’t be calm. I couldn’t be rational. I was enraged. Somehow, he managed to calm me down and convince me it was just a peck on the cheek in passing. Out of my inebriation, I let it go, and we went to the next bar. I felt awful. Boston was standing across the street witnessing this whole scene uncomfortably waiting for us to meet up with his friends at Drom.

In the cab ride, I decided I would pretend it didn’t happen for the night. Boston was only in town until the morning. I would deal with the situation later. I needed to entertain my good friend.

Boston lost his ID the night before, so when we attempted to enter the bar, the bouncer was not cooperative. Finally, when I shoved $40 into his hand, he let us in. After we each paid the $12 cover (on to of the $40), we came to realize Boston’s friends already left. The scene was dead. When I realized there was no chance in hell I was going to have fun the rest of the night, we grabbed a few drinks, and I volunteered to go on the hunt to find Boston a man to have fun with. We asked him what his type was. He explained. Then, N asked him if he was a top or a bottom. (This really had no relevance to the situation, and I think N took advantage to satiate his own curiosity.) When Boston was reluctant to elaborate, N said, “I’m a total top, but I love it when he puts his dick in my ass.” This was news to me. Especially since it never really fully made it there. It was just confirmation he was pumping Boston for information because he had a crush on him.

At one point, N and Boston walked to the bar to get drinks while I went to the restroom. Days later, Boston recounted for me the following exchange: N firmly gripped Boston’s ass and said, “How do you get an ass like that? So tight and firm. I’d really like to put my dick in there.” Had I known this happened that night, I would have left the bar with Boston and that would have been the end of it.

When we were all thoroughly exhausted and bored, we hopped in a cab back to Hoboken. No sooner we were in the door, and N was passed out face down on my bed in his underwear. This raised a whole new red flag in my brain. He was donning the sexiest underwear I’d ever seen him wear. His back was freshly shaved, his chest was cleanly shaved and he had a new haircut. All those are fine, but who was he expecting to see his underwear at a gay club. He spent the entire day getting ready for this night out. He never spent that much time primping to see me. Everything was starting to add up. From the business trip I took on, N was quickly distancing himself and seeking relationship freedom.

I went back out to the kitchen to chat with Boston. He immediately said, “OK! What happened!? What did you see!?” I explained to him the kiss, and in typical fashion, he dealt me the truth. He explained how N manipulated me that night as he watched from across the street. He told me to trust what I saw and trust my own instincts. We talked for at least another hour after that.

N’s phone was sitting there the whole time as well. I picked it up and was about to look through his Grindr messages because I wanted to find the closure I needed to tell him it was over. I couldn’t trust him anymore, but if I had proof, I would be able to get over it myself. Boston convinced me how bad that idea was. I put the phone down without pushing a button. To this day, I still regret not looking. It’s completely out of character for me to not trust someone and read their phone, but it would have delivered me the closure I needed.

At that point, I was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. That night I was delivered a heavy blow to the gut and needed to sleep to forget about it even for one instant. Boston went to the couch, and I begrudgingly went to share my bed with the man I had seen kissing another man. I laid down with my back to him and tears streaming down my face. I was crushed by what happened. I had no idea what to do. I still had very strong feelings for him, but couldn’t turn a blind eye. It isn’t who i am. I’m no one’s fallback or second best. However, I did know it was certainly not going to be a fun morning for him either…

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