Posts Tagged fireworks
Last time I came to San Francisco, tried to meet up with a friend of mine I met a very long time ago on manroulette.com. I’d known him for almost as long as I’d known about the site — roughly two years. We exchanged Skype names and kept in touch. I can remember having conversations with him long ago. He was a great guy who had been through a lot. My heart always went out to him when he told me his story. On top of this, he was incredibly sexy. We’d fooled around on Skype numerous times, and every time I yearned for it to be the real thing with him.
I was hoping I would finally get to live out my fantasy. I made plans with him to grab a drink Thursday night after work. He asked if I’d like to meet in The Castro, but I asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to my neighborhood in the Wharf since I trekked up there the previous night. He agreed, and I asked the concierge for a good spot to grab a drink and chat with someone. He gave me a great spot to check out two blocks away — Parlor. It was perfect. We could easily head back to my hotel room after a few drinks.
While I waited for him to get ready, I excited myself with some porn. I wanted my libido revved when I met him because I wanted to live out my fantasy completely.
When he was nearby, I made my way to the bar. There weren’t many people there. It was perfect. Good music, but quiet enough for us to chat.
We sat and talked for hours. He’d been seeing a therapist over the past few months, and he’d really been having some breakthroughs. He has a tough time with his family as they’re not accepting of his lifestyle “choices.” I told him my coming out story, and he was very happy I for me that I had such a supporting family.
Three beers later for each of us, and the conversation was going strong. Our conversation hit the pause button when we both heard someone at the other end of the bar making a gay comment, not in reference to us in the slightest. Our ears perked up ready to be on the offensive but there was no need. When we finished our fourth round, I asked him if he would like to come back to my hotel room. He accepted my invitation, but said he couldn’t stay too long since he had to work early the next day.
He proposed we stop for wine along the way, and I agree. He paid for the wine — He was such a Texas gentleman, even if he hadn’t lived there for years. When we got back to the room, we each finish a large glass of wine before I pounced on him. We made out for a solid fifteen minutes. I was really enjoying him. He had a great body, amazing lips, and he was a spectacular kisser. One of the best I’d ever experienced. My fantasy was on its way to reality.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. One by one I peeled off his clothes until he was naked. I took it all in with a big grin on my face. From the first time I laid eyes on his “big swinging d*ck” as I called it, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. It was beautiful, and I sure as hell had some fun with it.
He immediately went for mine and started orally pleasing me, front and backside. He was very good, but also very loud, moaning as his head bobbed up and down. This wasn’t something I was used to. I wanted to finish for him. I wanted to show him the fireworks I could set off, but I just couldn’t concentrate. After some time passed, I went to return the favor, but he stopped me. He told me he had to go because he had to be at work early the next morning.
I was so disappointed. He was really good in bed, and I needed that. I also had been looking forward to that for years now. But, I completely understood. Around midnight, he got dressed to head home. As he was leaving, he told me how great I tasted and how he wasn’t going to wash his hands or face for days. This was very dirty and very sexy. I’d never had anyone respond to my body that way before. He kept coming back for more as he made his way to the door. I could tell he didn’t want to leave, which made me happy. I was also purposely teasing him with my body, as I lay naked on the bed. I didn’t want him to go, but I still had one more night in San Francisco, which means I had one more chance to take him to bed…Follow @onegayatatime
N and I were talking sporadically, but it was almost as if we weren’t in a relationship. He was working in the city that day, and sent me a text message asking what time I was heading in. I was getting in the habit of waking up and getting to work earlier. I still didn’t have my appetite and wasn’t eating breakfast in the morning, which bought me more time. I was also enjoying the distraction of work that kept me busy. I told him I would be heading in at 8:30. He said he wouldn’t be ready by then. I didn’t have to be in at a set time, so I waited for him.
Finally, at 9:15 he emerged from his apartment. Had I known he would take so long, I would not have waited, especially if I knew what was to follow. The conversation on the walk was very distant and awkward. We spoke as if we were already broken up. Most of the time, he was buried in his phone. Maybe he was on Grindr, but at this point, I didn’t care. I was too, and I was getting bites. When we were half way to the PATH, he pulls back and says, “Wait! This is telling me the bus is a better option for me to get to work.” Apparently we wouldn’t be going into to work together after all. I waited around for an awkward five-minute walk. He mentioned his need to stop at the ATM but would also needed exact change. Since I’m the overly generous person I am, opened my wallet and handed him a bus pass. He commented, “You would have this in your wallet.” Not even a thank you. I felt like one of his discarded used tissues. I allowed him to take advantage of my generosity, and I hated myself for it.
Before we headed our separate ways, he told me he was going to watch the fireworks with his family at his aunt’s house that night and would probably be staying there. We would not see each other that night.
While watching TV on the couch, I began to get horny. I decided to text the man I had sex with a few weeks earlier. He was a good lay, and I figured why not? I texted, “Hey man. Wanna come over?” He responded pretty quickly. He was out with friends but would stop by later. He added, “I not a whore or anything either, but I had fun last time with you.”
This is also the exact moment N texted me asking what I was up to because he was on his way back from his aunt’s house. In my passive aggressiveness, I told him watching a movie and chatting online. In the meantime, I texted the man from Grindr and informed him I would have to cancel and apologized. I got no response from N, so I asked if he was just checking up on me or if he was interested in hanging out. When N replied telling me he was just checking up on me, I immediately texted Mr. Grindr and told him to get his ass to my place and apologized for the confusion.
When he arrived, we went out to the balcony to hang out for a little bit and smoke. At this point, he started asking a lot of questions about N. When I asked him “What gives?” he explained someone meeting many of my descriptors had been texting him for some time now. He spoke up because when we met the first time, I was upfront and told him I was involved with someone. At this point, he offered to show me the messages he received. It was really none of my business what the exchanges were between them, but I graciously accepted the offer. What I saw next was just the dose of reality I needed. N had been asking this guy to hook up many times, even sending him pictures of his dick (with his face in the shot). So much for just talking! The icing on the cake was he was messaging him that night. He was playing back n forth between the two of us. That was the ultimate slap in the face. While he was sitting there in front of me, N was still texting him.
I knew better than to leave notifications on my phone when Mr. Grindr came over. I had a feeling N would text again, and I didn’t need a distraction. I was horny and was annoyed with N’s games. Mr. Grindr and I had an extensive conversation about the situation at hand. I apologized profusely for bringing him into the mess and came clean about using him just for sex. He actually was a good guy and I started to look at him as more of a friend than just a hookup. He didn’t need to tell me about N’s sexting, but he did. I greatly appreciated his candor.
With that, we headed inside to my bedroom. As we did, I glanced at my phone. I had three text messages from N asking if I was feeling better, asking how my chatting was going, and finally asking again what I was doing. Mr. Grindr looked at me and asked if it was N. I said yes as I put the phone down and lunged at him.
We had sex and it was good, but we needed to take a break. When we did, we discussed things again, but the conversation was more about the relationship between he and I, not involving N. He even asked, “Should I tell him to come over?” I loudly protested how bad an idea that was. I don’t know if he meant in the sense of a three-some, but I thought me meant more to confront him on his indiscretions. I told him it wasn’t my style to make a public spectacle of things. That type of action was not proper, not matter how much N was playing games.
At that very moment, Mr. Grindr got a text notification. He said, “That’s one of two people. Either my roommate or him.” I told him he didn’t need to look for me, but if he wanted to look for himself, that was his business. He looked, and sure enough, it was N asking him to hang out still. I got GREAT satisfaction out of this. Not only was N home alone with just his hand, but after trying to manipulate both of us, I got the guy. The two of them never had the opportunity to meet. Both were closeted and had roommates. They had nowhere “safe” to hookup.
Mr. Grindr’s morals kicked in at this point, and he decided it best if he went home. I tried to convince him to stay and chat further (and also finish what we started), but it was no use. He insisted on leaving. If I wasn’t feeling guilty enough for dragging him into this mess, now I felt downright awful. As he left, I walked to the window to watch what he did. I was curious if he was going to try to meet N. He walked to the corner of my street, looked at his phone, and looked toward N’s apartment. He paused a moment as I said out loud to myself, “Don’t you dare!” Just then, he turned and walked home. “Good boy!”
The next morning I woke up to a text from N saying, “I wanted to see you.” What a prick! He didn’t want to see me. He wanted to get off! And, he didn’t care if it was Mr. Grindr or I. This cut deep, but my anger provided a sufficient band-aid for the time being. To me, it was his worst transgression. Even if they never met, he had every intent to do so. He even went as far as covering his bases by texting me should their plans fall through again. It was over. We were done. I do not stand for anyone treating me this way. After 26 years of single life and tormenting myself, I wouldn’t stand for this behavior! I deserve better! This was the wake-up call I needed, but this was just the beginning of my transformation back to my old self.Follow @onegayatatime
The next morning, N woke up to me staring him in the face. I don’t know what I was looking at, but I was definitely looking for answers. When he opened his eyes, his expression said it all. It was as if he woke up from a bad dream, only to find it was reality. He kept blinking and closing his eyes and then looking back into mine. I’m sure he saw the pain that was there. I could tell he wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.
Neither of us said anything for a few moments until I broke the silence. “Can we talk about what happened last night?” He nodded in agreement and sat up in the bed. I kind of ambushed him before he even had a chance to wake up, but what could I do? It was all I could think about, and I wanted answers.
We talked about why he was so secretive about dinner with his friends. He denied being secretive and said he was completely upfront with me. When I pointed out a few discrepancies in the story, he brushed them off as details lost in confusion of planning for ten people. Then I addressed him kissing the guy. He flat out denied it still. He told me he didn’t know the guy and it was a peck on the cheek in passing. The body language between the two from what I saw would say otherwise, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I said, even if it was just a peck in passing, why were you talking to him in the first place? Why did you both have your phones out? Was this a guy you met before I arrived at the bar. (The man he kissed was Asian, and sure enough, that Monday, an Asian man friended him and wrote on his Facebook wall. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.)
Here, he pled complete ignorance. He told me he had no idea who the guy was and couldn’t remember talking to him. He said he had a dream about talking to a bouncer about music and couldn’t remember what was reality and what was a dream since he was so drunk the night before. I knew this was bullsh*t. In my mind, I took a big step back. This was the ultimate betrayal of trust. We weren’t exclusive, but at this point, if he couldn’t be straight up with me, what did we have? Now, even more so, I felt like I was just a convenient booty call who lived across the street.
I explained how everything looks from my perspective. He stayed home the day before to primp his hair and his body, and donned sexy underwear to a gay club. What was he expecting to happen? He didn’t know I was going to meet up with him until he was already at dinner, so it wasn’t for me, and I pointed he never did that for me in the past. Was he opening the possibility of going home with another guy that night? He told me he shaved his body because he doesn’t like to take his shirt off with a hairy body and said the underwear was just a coincidence. He is a bad liar, so he stumbled over the underwear part. I had him figured out, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Even now, after time has passed, I get emotional writing this and thinking about his mindset. I was obviously more invested in the relationship, but I had no idea the extent. The first morning he woke up in my bed, we talked about how much fun we had the night before and how compatible we were. However, he jokingly added, “Just don’t fall in love with me.” I should have heeded those words, and it’s my fault for falling for someone who was not as emotionally available.
The NYC Pride Parade was back, and this year I was much more comfortable with my sexuality. Last year, I got trapped in the middle of the parade with my parents — my worst nightmare. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. This year, I made an effort to attend.
We all woke up late that morning and I felt sick, which threw a wrench in our plans to catch the tail end of the parade before Boston hopped back on a bus to Boston. We grabbed breakfast in Hoboken, and I became very ill, spending a fair amount of time in the restroom. I was only able to eat half my sandwich. I had a lot to drink the night before, so I chalked it up to a hangover.
Afterwards, we journeyed into the city. We walked around a bit, and then said goodbye to Boston.
N asked what I wanted to do and told me he wanted to grab drinks. He contacted some of his friends he knew were in the city. Finally, two coworkers responded, so we decided to grab drinks and lunch with them.
As we all entered the bar, older creepy men were checking N out. One of N’s coworkers pointed out we were both given the up downs. I was a little creeped out by it, but N thrived on the attention. That really turned me off. I was starting to see a side of N I had never seen before, and I didn’t like what I was seeing. At one point, I went to the bathroom. I knew I would be the topic of conversation while I was gone. When we were walking to dinner later, N pulled me aside and told me they asked if we were dating. I wanted to ask him what his response was, but I wasn’t feeling myself. No words came out. He then gave me a peck on the cheek. We were in Chelsea for Pride Weekend. This is the time he could be very affectionate and open, and the only sign of affection I received all day was a tiny peck on the cheek. The guy from the night before got more action than me.
As the day progressed, I became less and less attracted to N. The way he reacted to some of the more disturbing stories recounted at dinner really threw me for a loop. We ordered dinner, and of course, I couldn’t eat it. Between the alcohol and the emotional turmoil, I felt awful. At one point, one of N’s coworkers mouthed across the table, “Are you okay?” I told him I was just really tired from the night before.
When dinner ended, N wanted to continue drinking. It was Sunday night, and I was beat, as were his coworkers. Begrudgingly, he agreed to come back to Hoboken and back to my apartment. When we were one block from my apartment, N reached down and held my hand. It was a very romantic gesture, but too little too late. As we came in sight of his apartment, he released my hand. This romantic gesture lasted all of thirty seconds.
When we got back to my apartment, I decided it was time to tell him about my blog. It was his right to know, and I needed to know if it upset him before I continued. He was shocked to hear about it, but told me he didn’t care and wasn’t going to read it. So, to all my faithful readers, the show goes on. I also came clean about the extent of my relationship with the 40 year-old. I did this because I lied to him about the interaction, but was truthful in my blog. I wanted him to hear the truth from my mouth, not a computer screen. This upset him immensely, which I couldn’t understand. It all happened before I met him. However, he apparently had some background information about this man and was holding it against me. I tried to defend myself, but he didn’t want to hear it. It bothered me that he was so upset, but I couldn’t undo the past.
At that point, we started to watch porn. The computer was out, and I suppose we needed to break the tension. I never did this with Broadway, but I was open to the idea with N. However, he got overly excited by this. He started about how he’d love to be a porn star. Once again, I was losing the attraction to the man in front of me. This was not the guy I fell for. I still had no idea what happened to cause the switch, but something was very different with him.
All of a sudden, we were interrupted by the sound of fireworks. We completely forgot about them. We ran to the balcony to watch. In the middle of all the explosions, I burst out with, “So are we exclusive?”
The next few moments were a blur, but I do know the gist of answer was no. I could understand if we weren’t exclusive up to that point, but I couldn’t fathom not being exclusive going forward.
When he explained his lack of interest in a monogamous relationship, I asked him if he has been sleeping with any other men since he met me. He told me of one guy he hooked up with after our third or fourth date. They exchanged blowjobs, but when this other man told him he was kind of in a relationship, N decided it better to be just friends. (This is also one of the guys he and I were possibly going to meet up with earlier that day.)
I couldn’t understand his rational. If he didn’t want to be “the other man,” why was he willing to seek out another man himself. What we had was pretty great, but he was leaving the door open for himself. If something better came along, he would upgrade. When I expressed this to him, he asked, “Upgrade to what?” I immediately responded, “A better situation.” It was so simple to me, how could he not understand that? I felt so used! He explained he wasn’t seeking out other men, but that didn’t make it any better. I already couldn’t trust him, and I had a pretty strong feeling he was lying.
I felt awful. Like someone stabbed me with a knife. Before the conversation, I knew what his answer was going to be, but hearing him say no broke my heart all over again. I was a shell of a human being.
After we finished talking, we went inside and had sex, and I finally got to have my way with him — All the way this time, not just the tip. It was pretty good too, but ended quickly due to N’s lack of experience.
In my mind, things were beginning to end between us. It’s almost as if that night was our breakup sex. I was pleased to know I got it in at least once before we broke up. I don’t know why, but it felt fulfilling. That’s how I knew it was over. I lost the emotional connection to the man who days earlier I was falling in love with.Follow @onegayatatime
4th of July arrived one month after I met the Broadway dancer. For the first time in years, I had no plans.
I knew I wanted to stick around to see the Macy’s fireworks since they were on the Hudson River again.
I asked him what his plans were. He was going to have friends over to see the fireworks since he lived in Hell’s Kitchen on a high floor and would have a great view of the fireworks.
I began hinting that I would love to join in the fun, but wasn’t about to invite myself.
After many phone conversations, saying, “I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet,” and “No plans as of now,” he never got the hint. He asked me what I was doing, but never extended an invite.
This was strange. I felt like he was purposely keeping me from something. Not sure if he wasn’t ready for me to meet his friends… But, we weren’t “dating” yet. We’d been seeing each other a month. I wasn’t going to force it. I was doing a very good job of relaxing and just seeing where things went. Every day became more and more comfortable.
In the end I had a bunch of people over at my apt to grill and went on the neighbor’s rooftop to watch the fireworks. It was a really great night, but I wished I spent it with him.
After that weekend, I spent a night in his apt. While climbing into bed, I noticed condoms under the bed that had not previously been there. It raised a red flag in my head, but it wasn’t a used condom wrapper, so I didn’t overreact. In fact, I didn’t react at all. I was very proud of myself.
The next morning we were both in the bathroom about to brush our teeth. He pulled a toothbrush out of the cabinet and said, “Here’s your toothbrush.”
I looked at him with a look of shock and utter confusion until I was conscious enough to utter, “I never left a toothbrush here.”
He blushed awkwardly, and I could see him searching his head for a recovery, only to say, “Well this is awkward.”
I was a little blown away and a little worried. Was this guy some kind of player? Is that why I wasn’t invited to the fireworks? What kind of other fireworks were going on that night?
But again, I gained my composure and told myself that we hadn’t discussed exclusivity yet. I tried to just forget it.
To this day, I still don’t know the full story about the mysterious toothbrush. I brought it up casually 9 months later, but still never got a straight answer…