One Gay at a Time
Posts Tagged excuses
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on October 16, 2012
On the night of July 3rd, CK and I slept at his apartment. I had a beach bag packed to head to Fire Island the following day. I insisted if we were going to trek all the way out there, we needed to leave early in the morning to get a full day of it. We also decided to make an effort to come back to the city in time to view the fireworks from his rooftop. We made plans with one of my old roommates and his girlfriend. They were going to join us on his roof since he had such spectacular views of the Hudson River.
When we woke, the weather didn’t look like it was going to be the most cooperative. We checked the report, and there was a threat of thunderstorms all day long. We both agreed to nix the idea of going to the beach and decided to stay local instead. We lounged around his apartment all morning, watching TV and eating a light breakfast, all the while waiting for the rain. When lunch time rolled around, I was anxious to get out of the apartment. It still hadn’t rained, and it was shaping up to be a pretty beautiful day. While we both agreed we could have gone to the beach, we also agreed not going was nice too.
Recently, I broached the subject with him of spending habits. I realized I was spending a lot more money, especially going out to dinner. I proposed a plan to try to cook more and go out less. I didn’t want to keep spending money frivolously, and thought he was probably in the same boat. The topic was well received, and we agreed to make and effort to spend less money.
As we walked to lunch, we made a plan to grab something small and cheap. We ran a few of CK’s errands before finding a spot to grab lunch — Uncle Nick’s, a Greek restaurant in HK. This was not part of the plan. Everything was a bit more expensive than a $5 sandwich. CK reminded me of our frugal conversation, and pointed out this place was not part of the plan. However, since all the portions were larger, I pointed out that this could serve as our dinner as well. We could take the leftovers home and eat them before the fireworks. It would work out nicely since we ate such a late lunch.
This worked out perfectly. We did swing by the grocery store to grab a few snacks for his rooftop to supplement our lunch/dinner. We grabbed chips, humus, cookies and supplies to make sangria. Before digging into making sangria, we decided to check out the scene on the roof. We wanted to know what we were getting ourselves into. CK lived in a large apartment building, and the roof certainly wasn’t going to hold all the residents, especially if they were bringing guests like me. Much to our surprise, it was still fairly sparse, but we knew that wouldn’t last long.
We quickly went downstairs to gather our things so we could lay claim to a prime fireworks viewing spot. As we made sangria, I reached out to two friends who were to be joining us, but they weren’t going to be able to make it. Looked like it was just going to be the two of us. That, and his roommate and the harem of friends he gathered for the night.
We made it back upstairs in time to lay out a blanket and enjoy a drink as the sun set. I was enjoying some quality time with my man before the crowd showed up. After some time, he had to run back downstairs. Of course, he disappeared for quite some time. I was sitting there alone trying to fend for our spot as more and more people arrived. Slowly but surely, his roommate and his friends started showing up. Of course, they assumed we were holding a spot for them, so I was surrounded by them on the blanket — Still no CK. This was not how I wanted to spend the night.
Finally, he came back. By then, the roof was fairly full. Shortly after, the fireworks began. Well, at least I think the fireworks began. CK’s roommate assured us the building had a prime view of the fireworks. He informed us he’d watched them from the roof the year before. LIES! All lies! We couldn’t see the fireworks at all. Immediately, there was both a mass movement forward toward the river to get a better view and a mass exodus out of the building to head to the river. CK and I tried to maneuver the roof to gain a better vantage point. When I turned around, he wasn’t following me.
In the chaos, I wasn’t able to find him again. I looked all over, standing on planters to see over the crowd. I tried calling him, but he wasn’t answering. I assumed he went downstairs, and to be honest, I was pissed. I assumed he abandoned me in an attempt to better view the fireworks. The elevators were overrun with people. I descended the twenty-five floors until I reached the ground floor. Because I didn’t have a building access card, I was a bit trapped. My only option was to walk back up to the top floor. I tried calling and calling, but still, CK was not picking up. When I got back to the roof, I managed to find CK. I explained what happened, and he explained how he was unable to find me. I was disappointed because the romantic night I was hoping for had gone to sh*t. This would be yet another fourth of disappointment. We had a fun day together, and I really enjoyed it. But, I wanted romantic fireworks with my man for our first Fourth of July together.
When the crowd thinned out, we managed to find a decent vantage point. Of course, we got b*tched out by a girl, who after investigation we learned was not a resident of the building. Although our night wasn’t quite as romantic as it could have been, another couple was having an incredibly romantic night. A man was proposing to his girlfriend via a presentation on his iPad. It was very touching and made me realize the night was a success just being with CK. I needed to stop thinking about the perfect picture I had in my head and just go with it.
When the fireworks ended, we made our way down to his apartment. The alcohol was flowing, among other things, and all his “roommates” were already home causing a raucous. When we moved into CK’s bedroom to escape the party a bit, it slowly but surely moved into the room as well. I wasn’t thrilled. Slowly but surely, they piled in, one by one. I inched my way further and further up the bed until I was sufficiently pressed against the wall to make room for more “roommates.”
That’s when it happened. I was so incredibly disappointed. CK and I discussed in detail how uncomfortable certain situations made me, and he breached that comfort level quite drastically. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I wanted to go home. I completely shut down. He made me so incredibly minuscule by ignoring the entire lengthy conversation we’d shared about this very subject. I wasn’t exactly being forthcoming about what made me so upset. The fact that he was so clueless about why I was so upset only made it worse. He actually thought I had cheated on him and didn’t know how to tell him. He couldn’t have been further off base.
I just wanted to leave, but I knew there was no way I would be able to make it home before the sun rose in the sky with all the crowds. Luckily, everyone began to file out of the room naturally. I laid there with my back to CK crying myself to sleep. He tried to comfort me and made excuses, but it was no use. The damage was done. He knew how I felt about this, and he selfishly did what he wanted anyway. This was not how someone treats you when they love you.
My head was spinning. Because I was worried I would have to let him go, the tears streamed more and more. I’d reached the last straw. I wasn’t ready to talk about it that night because I wanted a clear head when we talked about it for the last time. That night, we’d have to go to bed with tension in the air.
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 6, 2012
That night, when we got home from the lake, we both collapsed in a pile on my bed. We barely had any energy left in us. We had a blast on the lake all day, followed by a belly full of lobster, clams and more. It was one of those summer days we will never forget.
We laid cuddling on my bed for some time. Both of us had our eyes closed. Regardless of how tired I was, my restraint was no match for my libido. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Holding CK in my arms and feeling his body against mine immediately made me hard. I couldn’t help myself, and I couldn’t keep my hands off his amazing body.
What started as innocent kissing quickly escalated. Slowly, but surely, we were stripping each other of articles of clothing until we were embracing and pulling our naked bodies tight against each other. We began to find our rhythm, and the grinding ensued. There was no penetration at this point; we were sensually rubbing key components against each other.
We couldn’t control ourselves, as was common for us. We began rolling and wrestling on the bed. One minute, I was on my back, and in the next minute, he was. The passion was off the charts. We hadn’t had foreplay this hot in quite some time. Eventually, he whispered in my ear, “I want you inside me.” “Yea?” I responded. With that, I opened the top drawer of my dresser and pulled out the lube. I worked over his areas while I teased myself with my lubricated hands. I rested his legs against my chest and shoulders while he guided me in. I could see the ultimate love in his eyes. As I slowly slid inside him, they got wide with excitement.
With every thrust, the love-making grew more passionate. Two things can be truly said about my sex-life with Superman: We have both truly become versatile in bed, and we both fully own the positions we find ourselves in. Whether I top or he tops, it’s epic, and the same goes for bottoming. I love the synchronicity of this type of sexual relationship. We are both getting every experience out of our sex. There is nothing holding us back from fully enjoying each other’s body. Neither of us is pigeon-holed in a position either. When we get into bed, neither of us has any idea who position we’ll be taking. It all happens naturally, and it’s simply epic!
We continued some time before I finished expelling my seed. From them on, Superman was my whole world. My only concern was getting him off, and without pause, he was finishing right after me. I reached down to the bottom drawer of my nightstand and grabbed him a towel. It was just what we needed after a long day on the lake. I was so horny all day staring at his package in his bathing suit. CK is no small man, trust me. It’s absolutely gorgeous, however, it’s torture to see the outline of it through his white trunks without the ability to do anything with it because we’re in public. It’s such a tease. All that built up to equal our romp in the sack that night.
We both laid there drifting in and out of consciousness until we were both out cold. We woke a few hours later. We had to head into the city. CK didn’t have things with him to go to work on Monday morning, so I packed a bag for the following day, and we made our way into the city.
That night, we slept soundly. I fell asleep in his arms, my favorite place to be. Nothing mattered when I was in his embrace — Nothing besides him.
The following day, while at work, CK texted me to see if I would be interested in going to see a performance piece entitled Confessions of a Cuban Sex Addict. At first glance, the joke was there to be made that it was somewhat autobiographical of CK, but I resisted. I wasn’t entirely feeling it. CK was going through a cleanse, and I was strictly watching my diet in solidarity. As a result, we were both particularly cranky. But, when he posed the idea of going (with free tickets) as research for my blog, I agreed to go.
I arrived at the theater earlier than CK. I waited outside for him to arrive. I greeted him with a big kiss, and we made our way inside just in time. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but when the performance began, I was entranced. It was incredibly erotic and intriguing. The story struck a chord deep within me. I had never experienced anything like what the author had gone through, but I knew that vulnerability of sharing one’s story with the public. As he continued his monologue, the lead encouraged us to follow him on the short journey deeper into the performance space itself. It was incredibly raw (and by raw I mean emotion, not literal sex). We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We met the author on our way out, and we thanked him for sharing his story with us. We were both a little taken aback by what we just witnessed. It was a very powerful performance piece acted out by incredible thespians. You could feel the raw emotion throughout the entire performance.
We hopped in a cab since we were quite far from his apartment. Along the way, CK and I started kissing, and I bit CK’s lip harder than I meant to. I have to admit, I did mean to bite him, just not that hard. He had been biting me for some time, and I hated it. I told him, yet it continued. Because of this, I decided I would do it back to him until he stopped. I meant to be playful, but he took it completely the wrong way. He flipped out on me, and it was more than I could handle. I blew up at him. He had a lot of nerve. He was constantly biting me, and every time I protested. Now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine, and it turned into a huge ordeal. I couldn’t stomach the hypocrisy, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time. I let him have it. We argued the whole way back to his place, and the argument continued on the sidewalk in front of his building. He was not understanding where I was coming from. He just kept making excuses for why it was okay. This wasn’t something I would just drop for the sake of arguing. I wanted him to stop biting me. Finally, I got through to him, and he understood how much I hated it. I also apologized for the blowup. We were both at fault and both needed to apologize.
The one good thing about CK and I is that we can fight and move on. I never fought with the other guys I dated, but looking back in hindsight, it was not a sign of a strong relationship — It was a sign of the lack thereof. We fought, but we never went to bed angry with each other. We hash it all out, and we move on. I was actually happy to see us fighting periodically. No one truly enjoys fighting, and I rarely go picking fights I don’t really care about, but I realized we fight because we care. It was healthy. It was then I knew I was on the road to a long and healthy relationship.
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One Giant Misstep for Mankind
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 17, 2012
Tuesday arrived, and that meant back to work after the holiday weekend. It’s always harder to get back into the groove when you’ve been away from the office for some time. Everything takes just a little bit more effort.
That morning, CK and I woke, and although we didn’t have sex, we certainly fooled around a bit. After showering together to conserve water 😉 we got out the door at a decent hour for once. This is quite an occasion for us. It’s normally tough balancing our responsibilities and our libidos, but at times, we manage to master the scale.
We both needed a bit of help getting through the day, so a Starbucks pit stop on the way to the office was essential. We hopped in the long line waiting to order a caffeinated beverages. I would have taken mine intravenously through a central line at the door if given the option. Alas, we filled the time with chatter amongst the two of us. That is, until one of my coworkers walked by.
This wasn’t just any coworker. This was a coworker I’d been on many pitches with. She is one of the biggest names in my agency, running a global piece of business across multiple agencies. Over time, she’d grown to be a fan of mine, but not without hiccups first. Days earlier, her husband entered the hospital with heart issues. This was the first time seeing her since we heard of the incident, so I wanted to giver her space. Anyway, enough back story.
She passed me with two coffees in hand, and we said hi to each other. She sat right next to where CK and I were standing in line. When her son came and joined her at the counter, she took a second to introduce me to him. We shook hands, and they went back to enjoying their morning. In the five seconds for all this to transpire, I panicked.
I am not “out” at work. A few coworkers know I’m gay, and I assume most/the rest suspect. But, in that moment, I didn’t know how to handle the introduction of CK. He was standing right next to me, and in my panic, I acted like he didn’t exist. I failed to mention him at all.
I didn’t want to say, “Oh hi! And this is my friend, [CK].” If he’d done that to me, I would have been quite offended. We were much more than friends. This was the man I was in love with, not simply a friend.
On the other hand, I didn’t want to say boyfriend. I didn’t think that was the moment I came out to her. When the time came for me to be courageous and stand up as who I am, I was a coward.
I try to be strong and proud of who I am, but sometimes I really disappoint myself. I have tried to keep some separation between my personal and work life, but standing there with CK next to me, I should have stood proud. It didn’t matter what I said. She knew who he was in the end anyway.
CK was very upset. We’d had a discussion about my poor introduction skills over the weekend, and then I pulled that stunt. I knew instantly he was upset, and I knew I failed. I started to talk to him about it, but I could tell he was fuming. We talked about it for the rest of the time we were in Starbucks, with the exception of the moments we stood in silence because of the tension. As we walked to the subway/my office, the conversation continued as I explained what happened and how I panicked. I also explained that I wasn’t making excuses for myself, and this was something I needed to get over. I am going to be gay for the rest of my life.
In the end, he understood and accepted my apology. I asked for his patience. I have only been out for two years. He, on the other hand, has many more years on me being openly gay. I even went as far as to publicly chastise myself in Twitter that day to show him how sorry I was. Earlier in the weekend, we discussed opening our relationship up publicly to Twitter. I’d admired how @AustinWilde and @AnthyRomero send each other messages and love across Twitter. I wanted to share that with CK. We started sending each other messages publicly expressing our love for each other. When he sent out the message, “@Onegayatatime baby, i love you,” I melted a bit. As a joke, I responded, “Who is this?” He didn’t appreciate the humor, and immediately deleted the tweet. From the other room, I discovered this and asked him about it. He was angry, and I began to cry. That message meant the world to me. It was the first time he expressed his love for me in a public forum, and it was gone. Or at least I thought so. I did, however, manage to save it by screen-grabbing my phone before it was gone forever. We both took a step back and realized what happened and how much we loved each other and moved on.
That day, CK met my old coworker who left to go work at his agency. After meeting him, she reached out to me to tell me how cute he is. I was thrilled. She’d heard me talk about him quite a bit when I first met him, and now she finally got to meet him. After messing up the morning, failing to share my joy and the love of my life with a current coworker, at least I could share it with a previous one.
That night, we discussed going to an event together, but in the end we didn’t go — I think possibly out of anger for the morning. We spent the night apart. I filled my free time with a late night run. As I ran along the waterfront in Hoboken, I wondered what he was up to in the city. Any time we were separated, I wondered what he was doing with a twinge of suspicion. It was hard not to. Guys in my past treated me poorly, so my self-esteem was very low. The thought of me not being enough for him was not so far-fetched, however, I just left these at suspicions. I never acted on them or accused him of anything. They were simply figments of my imagination…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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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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