Posts Tagged elevator
It was the middle of July in NYC, and while many might find the thought of that heat taxing, I’ve always enjoyed the summertime. People are out during all hours of the day and night. The city comes alive because people are willing to spend more of their time outdoors.
Tuesdays are never particularly good days. You’re still three days away from the weekend, and you don’t have the benefit of being refreshed from the pervious weekend. After a long Tuesday at work, I made my way to CK‘s apartment. He was wrapping up at his office, so I expected we would be arriving around the same time. I was looking forward to seeing him and relaxing. What better way to end a Tuesday than relaxing and watching the sunset from the rooftop of his New York high-rise on the banks of the Hudson River?
We dropped our bags and immediately took the elevator to the penthouse floor. A few others share the same thinking we did, and they were enjoying the days final rays with a few cocktails and some light-hearted conversation. CK and I made our way to the far side of the roof and swapped stories about our days. Through the course of our conversation, I learned he had some work left to do for the evening. It just so happened to be my expertise, so I offered to help when we finally made our way back downstairs. I told him this would have to wait until after we ate dinner of course because I was starving. As the last few beams of light disappeared behind the buildings on banks of the Hudson River in New Jersey, we exchanged a romantic kiss and made our way back downstairs.
We agreed upon ordering in instead of cooking, especially since CK still had work to do. “Sushi it is!” he exclaimed. While we waited, he worked on his presentation while I worked on a blog post in front of the TV. We paused when the food came so we could eat, but once we were properly fed, it was right back to work. I put a little work into his presentation while he proofread my post, pausing to show him a few tips I’d learned along the way myself.
It was a really nice night. We’d fallen into this routine finally, and I was really enjoying it. We were a couple, and there was no fighting. When the good times came, I genuinely appreciated them. I was beginning to wonder if we were a Ronnie and Sammi kind of couple for a little while there (Couldn’t resist the Jersey Shore reference there). That was a scary thought. I didn’t want to be the couple who constantly fought. We loved each other far more than that.
When we’d done enough work for the night, CK asked if he could put on his beloved Rachel Maddow, and I begrudgingly agreed. I wasn’t thrilled with the thought, as I grew more and more tired of her nightly hour-long program. I follow politics pretty closely and follow the Nightly News religiously every night, but I didn’t think anyone needed that much politics in their life. That Tuesday night, it was irrelevant what I wanted because my body wanted to go to sleep. I quickly dozed off on the couch while CK drank in his liberal political commentary.
When I finally woke, it was much later, and I suggested we go to bed. I could see CK was tired, and it was obvious I’d had enough with the day. We made our way to his room and slid into bed. I didn’t even make the pit stop to brush my teeth. I’m not sure why I was so exhausted, but I’m pretty sure I was asleep before my head came to rest on the pillow.
Another Monday. Another day at work. My staycation was officially over. Another day periodically checking Grindr.
I spent my vacation getting myself back. The only problem was I only repaired the physical me, not the mental and emotional me. I wasn’t on Grindr all day long, but I would periodically check it to see if anyone had messaged me. I was simply a Grindr fish. No longer would I be a fisherman.
I had a dermatologist appointment in the middle of the day. While walking to my appointment, I fired up Grindr. I was curious to see if anyone was scoping me out. I was also in a new neighborhood. I was hoping to find something new and unexpected. In the short window it took me to walk about twenty blocks, I’d managed to strike up a conversation with three different guys. All seemed to be quite level-headed. I told them all I was looking for dates, and all of them seemed excited at the prospect. It was difficult trying to keep three conversations going at the same time. I told them I was walking into my appointment and asked each of them for their phone numbers. I managed to pick up a lawyer, an actor and someone who worked for a magazine rating cruise ships. I asked each of them for their pictures to add to my roster and went to see my doctor about lightening up a scar.
When my appointment was over, I thought I’d make my walk seem shorter by checking messages on Grindr once again. A guy near my office was on and started messaging me. He seemed pretty hot and well fit. He was staying at a hotel near me and was anxious to give head. I told myself not to even continue the conversation, but once again, I found myself thinking with the wrong head. I entertained the idea and asked him what he was proposing specifically. He told me he had to catch a flight in a short while, but wanted some fun before leaving New York. I immediately knew which hotel he was staying at and his occupation. “You’re a flight attendant staying at the Radisson, aren’t you?” I asked. “Yea. How did you know?” he replied. “Not the first one I’ve talked to at that hotel. You guys love that hotel, and you guys love Grindr. So what exactly are you looking for?” I texted.
He asked me to come to his room. He would leave the door ajar. I would walk in, he would tear off my pants and just begin orally pleasuring me. I wouldn’t have to touch him or do anything to him. He just really wanted to blow someone. I knew better, but I still bit anyway. I figured, “What’s the harm?” Work had no idea how long my appointment would last, and it was a slow day at the office. I decided to take a detour, but I basically had to run to his apartment. Thank God I have long legs to get me there. He was anxious because his checkout was very soon.
I arrived at his hotel in time for an afternoon tryst. I hopped in the elevator and made my way to his room. I’d been here before. This wasn’t my first b.j. from a flight attendant at the Radisson. I really needed to stop making that a habit, but at the time, I was excited to get off in the middle of the afternoon. I arrived at his room, and the door was left ajar.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I walked in and said hi. He immediately began lifting my shirt and sucking on my nipples. I lifted my shirt off, and he undid my pants. Just then, he turned to me and asked, “You’re really clean right?” I assured him I was. “You can never been too sure,” he added.
He began pleasuring me. After a few minutes, I made my way to the bed and laid back. I wanted to fully enjoy him. It wasn’t too long before he worked his magic, and I was able to conjure up exciting mental images. I shot in his mouth and all over his face and chest. He spit on my chest and began working on himself. Seconds later, he shot all over my leg. “Let me grab you a towel,” he said immediately. I wasn’t moving. I was quite anxious to get both of “us” off me.
I cleaned up and began to exchange small-talk with him. He was Austrian and was headed home that evening shortly after I would be departing his room. I needed to get back to the office, and he needed to finish getting ready for work. He told me how much he enjoyed himself, and with that, I made my way out the door.
Shamelessly, I had a smile from ear to ear. I was still high from the endorphins. It felt amazing. I was ashamed and proud in the same moment. I still knew I was broken inside and needed to stop having these trysts with strangers, but I was also enjoying my sexual liberation. Somewhere, there had to be a happy medium. It was up to me to find it…Follow @onegayatatime
After my impromptu date with Smiles Monday night, I sent him a text telling him how I truly felt. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable doing it, but that’s who I am. I speak my mind. I realized I needed to start being myself and stop worrying about “auditioning” for Smiles.
The next morning, I received a very surprising text from Smiles. “Morning handsome, sleep well? I woke up at 4:30 ready to go for the day! Weird huh? Guess that happens when into bed at 10:00. LOL. Hope you have a good day.”
He never sent me text messages like that. Maybe I’d opened up a new door that granted me access to his feelings. I shot him a text back as I walked to work: “Morning sexy. Slept great! Can’t believe you were ever up that early! Good luck with your client today!” The previous night, while talking with my roommate in my bedroom, I noticed written among the list of other things actually in the box on one of the packed boxes on my bookshelf was “Sex Toys.” After asking my roommates and my sister if they were the culprits, I snapped a picture with my phone and sent it to Smiles with the caption. “Btw… Was this you?” He copped up to doing it.
“LOL. Now I’m that guy walking down the street laughing to himself that everyone looks at like he’s nuts…” I responded.
I went on with my workday and didn’t hear from him again. Late that night, I sent him a text: “Hey babe. How’d your day go?” but sadly, I received no response.
I woke early the next day to begin my long arduous day of moving to a new apartment. This was no small feat. I own a lot of things, and we weren’t able to procure a moving team since we were moving mid-week. Myself and my three roommates were going to have to work overtime to get it all done in one day. I had been dreading it for two months.
The morning was spent retrieving a UHaul truck and loading it up. That was the easy part. We had an elevator for that part. The hard part would come when moving into our new apartment. In the middle of all this, I got a text from Smiles. It was a welcome distraction, but I barely even had the time to look at the message. “Hey there. Find anything to do today?” I responded indignantly, “Are you kidding me?! So sore already.” He responded with laughter and a wink. “Presentation to dr.’s went well today. Just finished grabbing lunch and getting back to work,” he detailed. I congratulated him and went back to lifting heavy boxes and furniture.
After hours and hours of grueling lifting, walking and carrying, I took a break to eat something. I realized I’d forgotten to eat all day, and I was starving! As I was finally putting food into my face, I received another text from Smiles. It was just the little pick-me-up I needed to get me through the rest of the night. “How did the move go? Ya worn out yet? I’m not looking forward to this surgery Friday. More on my mind than it should be. :(” He scheduled an appendectomy for himself in the coming days. Apparently it was weighing on his mind. In this respect, Smiles is a delicate flower. He was stressing himself over routine surgery. I found it cute. I was happy to be seeing his fragile side.
After reading his message, I tried to call him. I received a text message in response: “At Webster Hall. A friend from L.A. is performing tonight.” I’d forgotten he had plans for the evening. “Oh yea… I’m pooped but far from done… Don’t worry about your appendix. Call me later if you’re not too intoxicated ;),” I responded. I knew I would be up for a few more hours if nothing more than to find some sort of bed to sleep on. Smiles responded, “LOL. Light drinking. I promise.”
He called as he was making his way home for the night. I was exhausted from working to the bone all day. I swear I lost ten pounds that day. I become so much more energized the moment my phone rang. I knew immediately it was from him. We talked about my grueling day and what he did to occupy himself for the day. He told me about his friend and the concert that night before we said goodnight. That little call was all I wanted and was looking forward to all day.
I could go to bed happy, even though I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor amongst a sea of boxes.Follow @onegayatatime