Posts Tagged gay sex

Cloudy with a Chance of Depression

After the day on the lake with D, K, and D’s girlfriend, we all decided to go out for Mexican. It seemed this had become my new favorite cuisine considering I had it twice in the days prior on my date with Pillow and the Fire Island bartender. At dinner, I was scolded for being on Grindr. I really tried to limit my time spent on it when I was with friends, but it was a catch 22. If I spent time with them, I was not in a location where I could meet guys. We always went to straight bars. And, I was fine with this. In fact, I preferred it, but my friends would have to be tolerant of my Grindring.

I told D, “Just pretend I walked away from the group to talk to a guy when I’m on Grindr,” because that’s essentially what I’m doing. He suggested I physically walk away, but that was not something I was going to agree to. I asked him to be more understanding. I wish there is an easier way for me to meet men and still spend time with my heterosexual friends, but I have yet to find it.

After dinner and a quick pit-stop at a friend’s apartment to show face at his party, we made our way to the new Hoboken Biergarten. I wasn’t exactly in the most cheerful spirit. That morning, I never got a response from Pillow regarding his attendance to the lake. He didn’t take the time to text or call. I was starting to wonder if he just wasn’t into me. We had a great date the day before, and his texts following acknowledged that. But, I just had a feeling he wasn’t putting as much effort to get to know me as I was putting in to get to know him.

That night at the Biergarten, I noticed he was on Grindr. I’m not exactly sure why I sent him a message, considering he didn’t respond to my text messages, but I did. “Hey stud,” I sent. He responded, “Hi.” After not getting back to me at all, that’s all he had to say? So I said, “Did you go to Musikfest today?” His only response: “Yeah.” Well, that was over. So much for small talk. I said, “Well, have fun.”

After that, I figured I wouldn’t see him again. He obviously wasn’t interested, and it really started to get to me. I had been going on dates for a month and a half since breaking up with N. And, I went on A LOT of dates, almost all of which were failures. I thought this guy had a lot of potential, and I thought we were starting to click. I thought this was finally a success. He was part of an elite group — One of five guys with whom I’d gone on a second date with. Ever. I was feeling really low, and it showed.

A majority of the night, D looked my way and asked me why I was so gloomy. I told him I just wasn’t in a cheerful mood. He said, “I love this group, and I’m having a good time. Snap out of it. We’re having fun!”

I didn’t want to be a “Debbie Downer,” so I figured I’d step away from the table for a bit to try to clear my head. I had a hankering for a cigarette, so I went in search of someone from which I could bum one. I found a Good Samaritan who was willing to part with a cigarette. I relished every puff as a few raindrops fell on my skin. It was working it’s magic and relaxing me. I took the time to people watch. Everywhere I looked, I saw couples. Everything the cigarette gave me was just ripped from me, and I was back to feeling depressed. Dating was really starting to get to me. I’m a catch! Why couldn’t I find a good guy to realize that?

I went back to the table and tried to put on a happy face. I was successful for some time, but I was fading fast. I snuck away again to hunt for another cigarette. After I finished it, I walked home with two of my friends. I explained my issues to them both. They tried to console me, but I don’t think anything short of Bradley Cooper or Matthew McConaughey asking for marriage would have cheered me up.

When I got home, I poked around on Grindr. I found a guy who was two blocks away and looking for a good time. There was one issue — We are both tops. I told him we could just fool around and invited him over. He was an older man in his mid-thirties, but very attractive and had a great body!

We both undressed and had a good time. When we both had our fill, he began to get dressed. He expressed how much he enjoyed himself. He casually mentioned the possibility of a repeat, but we never exchanged numbers, so it would be completely left up to chance. Yet another casual encounter to add to my list.

This was the challenge I faced. I constantly wanted the instant gratification I knew I could conger up on-demand, but I also needed to stop destroying my emotional state following each of those casual encounters with men. It was a delicate balance, but I needed to figure it out so I would stop feeling so awful about my dating life…

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Pillow Talk

After my first date with Pillow, I was very excited to see him again. However, I would have to wait a week. When the day finally arrived, I was very excited. I tried my best all day to get my work done to ensure a timely exit. After the debacle of picking restaurants last time, I put the burden on him to choose where we would go. We talked a few times during the day about him stressing to pick a location. We finally planned to grab dinner at Dos Caminos at 7:30.

At 7:30 on the dot, I got a text from him saying, “Hey. I need to reschedule for tonight. My sinuses are acting up, and I’m not feeling all that great. I just need to relax and hit the bed. So sorry for the late notice, but just not up for drinks or dinner tonight.” Needless to say, I was very disappointed, but also slightly annoyed. I sat around work with nothing to do for two hours. I could have gone home or made other plans. I responded with the only thing I knew to say, “Ok. Feel better!” I have to admit, I was very suspect of the last-minute cancellation. It seemed odd. If he wasn’t feeling well, I imagine he didn’t feel well all day long, not just that evening. But I didn’t want my imagination to run away since I have a habit of letting that happen. He mentioned hitting me up the following day to figure out a time to reschedule. Later that night, he suggested Friday for lunch, so I was reassured he wasn’t just blowing me off completely.

That Friday, we went to Dos Caminos for lunch. It was a very nice lunch, and we had good conversation. It wasn’t 100% fluid, but it was getting better. He had a hard shell to crack. We talked a lot more about his home and his living situation. I learned about his cat and a bit more about his relationship with his mother. It was nice getting to know him better. When we finished, I suggested we hit up the High Line as we had spoken about before. It was a gorgeous day, so he agreed it was a perfect idea, especially since he’d never been.

We made our way across town and walked to the bottom end of the High Line. He was really enjoying it, and I was enjoying watching his pleasure. We had nice casual conversation the whole length. When we go to the bottom end, we took a break in the shade against the railing. Through our conversation, there were about fifteen moments I wanted to just grab him and kiss him. Every time there was a pause, I wanted to go for it. However, there was an audience. There was never n instance when there wasn’t a crowd of people around to sneak a private moment. I think he wanted me to kiss him as well, or at least his body language suggested it. After a while, we decided to make our way north again to the other end of the High Line.

The whole walk back, I looked for a quiet corner to sneak into — No dice. I had experienced those pillow lips once before, and I wanted more. It had been too long! I was really starting to feel comfortable with him. The nerves ended and the conversation was much easier. We both really enjoyed our time up there. From start to finish the date lasted four hours. We walked the entire High Line, and it ended at Penn Station where he would grab his train home to Pennsylvania. As I said goodbye, he grabbed my hand. I pulled him in for a kiss. And then another. And then another. All short kisses, but nice ones nonetheless.

On my walk back to the PATH, I texted him, “Soooo…. I wanted to kiss you about 15 times on the High Line today. I just don’t do well with audiences…” He responded, “Had a great day!! Um, I’m with you. I’m not totally into an audience, but I was so relaxed at the end of the High Line in the Meat Packing District. I could have stayed and talked a while longer with you. ;)” It was nice to hear we were on the same page. He was a great guy who I still needed to get to know better, but a great guy nonetheless. I was looking forward to our next date and wanted to move things along a bit.

I took the liberty of inviting him to join me at my friend’s lake the following day. He told me he needed to see what he needed to get done the next day and wanted to check out Musikfest, but he would get back to me in the morning. That night, I followed up with a late night text, “I had a really great time with you today. Hope I get to see you again tomorrow. i.e. Come to the lake in the am and then head back for Musikfest in the evening.”

The next morning I went to the lake with my friends D, K and D’s girlfriend. I spent the day on the water and went waterskiing for the first time in my life. It was fun, but I was a little disappointed I never heard from Pillow. I went on with my day and tried not to let it phase me. I was unsuccessful. That night I went out with my friends, but it was very hard to have a good time…

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Fire Island Bartender

I always get particularly excited when a new guy pops up on Grindr who happens to live in Hoboken. I have pretty much blocked all the gay men in Hoboken, so when a new one pops up, I notice.

One in particular messaged me and was pretty cute. In his pictures, he looked like he had a good body and seemed very nice and genuine. After we chatted a few times, we exchanged numbers and switched things over to texting.

He told me he was a trainer at NYSC, but he was on hiatus while he got a certification. In the meantime, he was working as a bartender on Fire Island. He was gone almost every Thursday through Monday. This made it very hard to find a time to meet up, but eventually we figured it out.

We decided to meet on a Tuesday evening at a Mexican restaurant in Hoboken, Charritos. I had only ever heard good things but had never been. He made a good choice. He spent the day out in the burbs of New Jersey at his friend’s pool, and he was late getting back because of rain and flooding. When he finally showed up in his ripped jeans, finely quaffed hair, tight T-shirt and leather bracelets, I knew this date was doomed from the start.

The night before I was warned about this guy. While talking to N, I learned they knew each other in passing. N had seen him working at the gym and told me he was quite effeminate. I became skeptical but open-minded at that point, but when I met this guy in person, the second he opened his mouth I was turned off. On top of that, I noticed how filled out he was. He was supposed to be a trainer. I would never go to a trainer who was that pudgy and couldn’t follow their own advice.

We sat and had a very nice dinner. We talked about coming out and our families’ reactions to the news. We chatted about work and what we do for fun. The conversation was nice, but there was no spark. He just kept looking at me with this big smile like he wanted to gobble me up. I got the feeling he was a bit lost in the world. He was openly gay, but I’m not sure if he knew how to navigate life with men. I shouldn’t talk, because I have no idea what I’m doing, but he seemed like his GPS was slightly off.

After dinner, he asked if I wanted to grab another drink somewhere. I obliged, but I should have ended the date then and there. I knew better. I clearly wasn’t interested in this guy and had an out to go home, but I felt bad for him. I felt like he needed a friend, so I stuck around. We went around the corner to Sushi Lounge and sat at the bar. We each ordered a round and continued our conversation.

Somehow the topic of the rainbow came up as a symbol for gay culture came up in conversation. I explained just how much I despised the rainbow. He was flabbergasted. He didn’t know how to react. I explained it was not something I embraced. I could understand why some people need a symbol to hold on to, but I was making every attempt to not let my homosexuality separate me from the rest of the world. I am a normal ordinary man who happens to like the company of other men. I don’t need a rainbow to broadcast who I am. On top of that, I find the rainbow aesthetically unpleasing. I could tell I really turned him off by all this, but he wasn’t going to argue.

Then the conversation turned to previous relationships. I told him about the two I had been in and the duration of each. He told me I had a longer relationship than any he’s ever had. When I asked him why, he asked the bartender for another drink. He was a broken gay man. I felt bad for him, but certainly no attraction towards him. I thought maybe I could be his friend.

After we split our tab, I walked him home. Much to my surprise, he invited me up. I have NO idea why I agreed, but I did. We sat on the couch with some wine while we watched one of the music channels. We got into a conversation about Lady Gaga. I told him I found her very inspirational and really got behind her message and what she stood for. He told me he was over her. We obviously were going to but heads, so I was about ready to leave.

At that moment, he took my wine glass, took off my shirt, and started kissing me. He was an awful kisser. All over the place. I did not want to be there making out with him. I did however feel he needed to be kissed. So, I suppose you could call it a pity kiss. After a short while, I told him I needed to go home. I had work the next day, and it was getting late. I said goodnight, and with that I was gone.

I made it as far as the bottom step of his apartment stoop when I realized I left my umbrella in his apartment. There was no way in hell I was coming back to this place to get it, nor did I really want to see him again after that night. So, I rang his apartment. He buzzed me in, and I went back up to get my umbrella. When I walked in the door, he pushed me back into a chair and mounted me. Apparently he wasn’t done. I immediately told him I needed to go. I only came back for the umbrella, not an encore. That’s when I really realized he only wanted me for my body. We didn’t have that great of conversation all night and disagreed a lot. We were obviously not compatible for a relationship, but maybe he was just horny. I was slightly offended and made my way home.

He immediately texted me: “Had a great night with you.” I didn’t respond immediately, but in the morning I texted: “I had a good time too.” After that, I was done with him. I was pleasant, but I didn’t give him hopes of a second date. He would not be a repeat offender. The next day he texted, “How was your day at work?” But, he would not get anything back from me. Once again, it was back to the dating pool…

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Coffee Break

Just as I was whittling the roster down, I felt the need to continue to build it up. Out of all the candidates, I only found one worth revisiting, Pillow. After what started as a bad date, I was happy with how it ended.

I still needed other options and distractions. I have a problem of diving in head first when I find a guy I like. If I have a few distractions, the chances of me doing that are far less.

I started talking to a very attractive man. He was very responsive, and we got into a great conversation. He’s a 34 year-old trainer in Manhattan who lives in Hell’s Kitchen — All pluses in my book. I also noticed his distinctive tattoos and found them very attractive. Strangely enough, he reminds me a lot of the first guy I dated, Broadway. And, in another twist of irony, his gym was a block from Broadway’s apartment. I walked past it hundreds of times. He mentioned his workout regime and how intimidated most guys were by it. I said, “They’re just weak!” He replied, “Oh. I like you! And, you’re my just type!” We talked about meeting after we were comfortable with each other.

Earlier that day, my boss had a meeting with my department and told us he wanted us to meet a new hire at 2:30. This was right about the time I was talking to the trainer about meeting for coffee. I suggested we meet at Starbucks to say hi, but it would have to wait until I met the new guy. When 3:30 rolled around, and he was still in my boss’s office, I decided I wasn’t going to wait around any longer. It was pouring that day, so we picked a Starbucks half way between us. I grabbed my umbrella and made my way towards him after postponing coffee almost an hour and a half. When I arrived, it was a packed house. It was a small Starbucks to begin with, but everyone was trying to escape the rain, customer or not.

I managed to find him in the crowd. We chatted while waiting for our coffees. I liked him. I felt very relaxed around him. We talked about work, family, what we did for fun, vacation, travel, etc. He was going skydiving in a week, so we had an interesting conversation about that. I told him about all the traveling I’d done so far this year, and he told me about his trip to Fire Island that coming weekend.

The only snag in the whole conversation was age. He wasn’t thrilled I was only 27. “I find myself being attracted to younger men lately though,” he said. He kinda shrugged it off as if to say, “I’ll give you a chance.”

The time came when I needed to head back to the office. He was disappointed I had to cut it short, but I promised him we’d hang out when he got back from Fire Island. With that, I gave him a hug and said goodbye. He said he’d text later that evening. I was thrilled.

He seemed like a really great guy. On top of that, he was very masculine and very sexy. I was looking forward to seeing him again. I had two dates in a week’s time that ended in success! This may have made all the bad dates worth it. That evening, we texted each other. It was a fun and playful conversation — All progress towards a real date.

The next evening, when I was heading home earlier than expected (see Friday’s post), I called to see if he wanted to grab dinner. When he picked up the phone, he said, “Hey, I’m about to grab dinner with some friends.” Can I call you back later?” And, like a true man, he called me that night. We had a great conversation, and once again, we talked about a second date upon his return to Manhattan…

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Weekend Hookups

Just when I was doing well and turning my back on my whorish ways, I got sucked back in. At work Friday I received another one of N‘s annoying, yet typical messages that pushed my buttons. I was still coming off the high from Wednesday’s successful date. He always knew just the right moment when I wasn’t thinking about him at all to poke his finger in my face with a sarcastic comment I was just expected to slosh off as a joke. On Thursday, through my blog, he managed to figure out who I had sex with while we were dating. He sent me a screen grab of his Grindr and asked if I recognized him. On Friday, he apparently wasn’t done talking about it and felt the need to bring it up again.

I had a half day, and I wanted to do something with it. N p*ssed me off, and I was in the mood for sex. I sat in Herald Square on my Grindr to see if I could stir something up. No dice. It was time to go home and pull up some porn.

When I got home, I went thought my daily routine of checking my messages on adam4adam.com. I had quite a few. One in particular was a very muscular man who lived nearby and happened to be online. We chatted a bit and unlocked our pictures for each other. He seemed like a really nice guy, and we were thoroughly horny at this point. So, I invited him over later that evening when my roommate would be out.

I can remember around the time I came out when I was talking to a guy in San Francisco. He used to have random guys come over for sex periodically. This blew my mind. It was inconceivable to me. I’m sure to some of my readers feel the same way. But now I was that guy. I’m not saying I’m not ashamed of it by any means. But it has become an easy way for me to get off, and it’s something I need to stop doing. Just not that day.

After my roommate went out to dinner, the guy from a4a came over. He came into my room, took his shoes off and hopped into bed with me. We were making out until both our shirts came off and our naked chests were pressed together. He felt so good. He was an older guy, but he was in great shape and everything was tight and muscular. We pleased each other orally and then moved on to penetration. I pulled out a condom and he begged for me to enter him. It was great sex. His smooth body was better than I expected. I was able to make him finish without even touching himself. We both really enjoyed ourselves.

Afterwards, he hopped in my shower and washed up. When he was getting dressed, he commented on how great he thought my body was. He was pleasantly surprised I lived up to my pictures, and suggested we make this a regular thing. I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but I was still making an effort to turn over a new leaf. At least with him, it wouldn’t constantly be a new or random guy.

The next day, I went to the beach. He started texting me, “Damn bro. Don’t usually text next day, but in the shower fully hard thinking about yesterday. HOT!” It was just the ego boost I needed. He added, “Anytime you want a repeat. So close n convenient too!” This was also followed up with a myriad of sexy pictures. I scolded him for getting me excited on the beach when there was nothing I could do to alleviate the hormones.

When Sunday morning rolled around, my roommate went out with my sister for brunch, leaving me home alone. I texted my new friend with some amazing benefits to come over for another visit. Of course, he obliged. We were having yet another sexy romp when we were interrupted by the sound of my roommate coming into the apartment. He was fully aware of what I was doing, but I didn’t exactly feel comfortable with him hearing us. I suggested we move to the shower, and Mr. Smooth agreed heavily.

We turned on the hot water and had a hot wet time. We both finished with fireworks in the shower. When I toweled off, I checked my messages and noticed my roommate tried to call numerous times and left a text message. He just left to go surfing at the beach without me. I managed to call him and convince him to come back to get me. He was only ten blocks away. I started to rush Mr. Smooth. I felt bad, but we both knew what this was. I got dressed for the beach in one minute flat, and he quickly put his clothes back on.

As we walked down the stairs, he grumbled about the walk of shame in front my roommate, but was over it right away. As I drove to the beach, I sent a text message apologizing for the circus, but also complimented him for yet another hot time in bed. He was fine with it all.

Maybe I would keep this one around for lonely times, but I would also try to find the strength to find a real man to be my boyfriend and stop with the hookups altogether…

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Check Please

Day three of my dating marathon arrived and I still had no prospects for second dates. I was definitely widdling down the roster, but I wasn’t finding the quality I was hoping to find. That Tuesday, I planned a date with one of the guys who was particularly interested in me when I was texting him from Ocean City, Maryland. We started chatting on Grindr before I left for vacation, and we continued to do so when I returned.

We agreed to meet up for a bite following work. He worked as a concierge at a hotel near my office, so we picked something somewhat local to both of us. When work ran over for me, he decided to run a few errands. He hit up the gym and then moved onto a manicure. Already I was worried he was going to be yet another flamboyant ‘mo, but I would give him the benefit of a doubt.

After chasing him around to different locations, we finally met on the street corner. He was not what I was expecting. His pictures on Grindr portrayed him as a mysterious and sexy tattooed guy, but in reality, he looked kinda dorky. I knew immediately this was not going anywhere. If I was smart, I would have suggested a pub right then and there and made it a one drink date, but I wasn’t quick enough. I let him decide on the location. He chose Bare Burger on the East Side.

We sat at a table in the restaurant and ordered our beers while we decided what we wanted to eat. The conversation mainly started with work and ended with work. It was all he knew to talk about. I learned about all the hotels he’s worked at and all the perks he gets. I heard about the free Broadway shows he left half way through because Broadway wasn’t quite his thing. Once again, someone was sitting in front of me trying to impress me instead of just being real. I don’t just want to know what your job can do for my social life. He also talked about people getting starstruck in his line of business, but then proceeded to name all the famous people he’s hung out with. He was a walking contradiction. On top of this, he lived on the opposite side of the island we like to call Manhattan. Astoria, Queens would be a very long ride from Hoboken, NJ.

I couldn’t wait for the date to be over. When he excused himself to go to the bathroom, I flagged down the waitress and asked her to bring us the check. I gazed out the window people watching hoping for this date to end like the ripping off of a band aid. The only saving grace was how tasty the food was.

When he came back, we split the bill and started to walk towards the PATH/his subway. When we got to a crossroads in which we were heading in different directions, I said goodbye with a hug. He suggested we go out again. I blankly said, “Yea. We could do that.”

Just before getting to the PATH, I received a text from him saying, “Get home safe! It was nice meeting you!… shorty ;)” He was taller than me by a few inches, but did he really just call me shorty? “I just responded back with a “likewise.” The next day, I received the followup text: “How’s it going?” Of course, I didn’t respond. And that was the end of the concierge. NEXT!…

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Harvard Law’s Review

After meeting the police officer and the southern gentleman, I was on a roll. I was getting through my roster of men with ease. Monday was no different — I scheduled in a new one, “Harvard.”

I picked him up on Grindr one late night in the city. He was a very attractive lawyer who seemed pretty normal and very masculine. He went to the gym a lot, so his body was tight, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. We exchanged numbers shortly after we began talking on Grindr. I texted him a few times while on vacation with my family to make sure he was still thinking about me periodically while I was gone. He was another guy I thought had a lot of promise.

The night before, while waiting for the bus to meet the southern gent, I called Harvard. He picked up, and we chatted a bit. I told him about my vacation and he told me how similar his family is. He had a trip coming up in a few months and felt the same way about it that I did about mine. It was easy to talk to him. He sounded great too. No flamboyance at least. I was looking forward to meeting him in person. I thought to myself, “Maybe a phone call should be a new part of the screening process before the first date. I could eliminate a few bad apples this way.”

On the walk home from my date with the souther gent, we texted each other. He managed to slip in a comment about how much he liked my body. I certainly appreciated the compliment and threw one right back in his direction.

We scheduled a date that Monday evening at Blockheads, and outdoor Mexican restaurant. This would be my third date in two days — I was speed dating over the course of a few days. I arrived early, so I put our name down and sat to read Chelsea Handler’s My Horizontal Life until he arrived. (She’s part of what inspired me to write this blog, so I thought I should at least read her books).

When he arrived, we were seated immediately. We had a nice table for two on the rim of the crowd. A few birds flew around our feet, and he started to freak out. I get weirded out when pigeons do it, but these were tiny little birds, not the flying rats I want to punt every time I see them. Now, I’m not judging, but it was a bit excessive. He freaked out and told me how much birds skeeve him out, but I was still a little weirded out by how much it bothered him.

I started to size him up. He looked like his pictures and he filled out his polo very nicely. Great arms and a great chest. I could tell he was a regular athlete who hit up the gym. This is important to me since I am so active. I need someone who can keep up with me.

We started on the small talk. We chatted about college, family, vacation, where we grew up, what we did for fun. It was almost as if he was reading from an interview script. The conversation was alright, but it certainly wasn’t relaxed. I was a little turned off because everything he said had a slight air of superiority to it. He was trying too hard to impress me, and if there’s one thing that turns me off with people, it’s that. He even wore his pretentious college ring. He was a nice guy, but I couldn’t take the high brow attitude.

In between all this, the waiter came by to take our drink orders and then our dinner orders. Every time he came by, Harvard started flirting with him. It was obvious this guy was a ‘mo, but he wasn’t even attractive. The waiter is supposed to flirt with you for a good tip, not the other way around.

We both enjoyed our meal and continued the “interview” while we ate. He told me about his “type.” I fit the mold perfectly as far as physical looks went, but I have a feeling he was looking for a younger or more subservient guy. We would butt heads, and I think he was looking for a guy he could rule over.

When the date ended, we hugged goodbye. We didn’t even talk about follow-up. We both knew there were no fireworks there. On my walk home, I texted him, “It was nice to meet you.” He responded, “likewise.” After that, it was simply on to the next guy on the list…

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A Southern Gentleman

Before I went to OCMD, I was talking to a southern gentleman who found me on Grindr. We hit it off immediately. He seemed like a level-headed guy, and he was 35. After my last failed relationship with a 25 year-old, I decided older was better. San Francisco opened me up to the idea of dating a man of that age, and I had a good feeling about it.

The Southern Gent and I messaged each other a lot on Grindr. We also exchanged pictures. He found me exceptionally sexy, and I found him to be quite attractive. He was no super model, but he certainly took care of himself. We exchanged Facebook information. I looked through all his pictures. They were of him being crazy at a wedding, boating on a lake, safari hunting in Africa, etc. The guy had a picture of a Zebra he took down. I was impressed and swooning a bit.

We tried to figure out a good time to meet, but it always conflicted with his schedule or mine. After a while, he went completely dark. We made plans to meet one Sunday night, but when that weekend came, I got no response to the many text messages and phone calls I made. “I can only assume you lost interest already… Not sure if I did something, but I’ve sent you msgs with no response. Was excited to meet you… If I’m wrong, you know how to reach me.”

An entire week went by, and I heard no word from him. I removed him from my favorites on Grindr so I wouldn’t have to look at him every time I pulled it up. Of course, that’s when he started to message me again. He apologize emphatically for not getting back to me and blamed most of it on getting a new job. I’m definitely one for giving second chances, and I though he would be a great match for me, so I agreed to meet him when I got back from my vacation.

While in Maryland, we texted periodically. We set up a date for the Sunday evening upon my return home. He picked Pier I Cafe on the Upper West Side. I took the bus into the city and hopped in a cab the rest of the way. I made my way down to the Hudson waterfront and saw him immediately. He had a very New England country club look about him. I liked it. He didn’t look like a snob, but he looked like he appreciated the finer things in life.

We both grabbed beers and tried to find somewhere to plop down. There were no tables available, so we found a cement wall to sit on. We got to know each other slowly. We talked about our jobs, our living situations, working out, college, etc. The conversation was flowing quite easily. He is an architect, which is something that has always interested me. I found it sexy. The one hangup I had with him was he turned into a total queen every time he laughed. He was a bit flamboyant. He could have sucked all the air out of the room after every laugh had we been indoors. It was extremely off-putting. I’m sure you’re all judging me as picky at this point, but it was hard to look past. I was starting to get annoyed with these guys who claimed to be masculine. It’s my one real hangup in the gay dating world, and guys self-judge this aspect of their lives VERY poorly. Basically, I’m attracted to dudes who just so happen to be attracted to other dudes as well, not some big ‘mo.

I also started to gauge the level of chemistry between us. It wasn’t exactly at its peak either. We shared a lot in common, but I could tell the attraction wasn’t there on both sides. We both passionately talked about cooking and our specialties. It was an interesting conversation. After a while, I noticed one of my friends. He also noticed me, so on one of his trips to the bar, he swung by to say hi. I introduced him to the Southern Gent and talked to him about how things were going since his marriage in Key West.

Four rounds and one basket of calamari later, it was time to go home. I gave him a small kiss on the lips and said, “We should do this again sometime.” I didn’t have such a good feeling about our chemistry as I did before the date. I was a little disappointed, but I thought maybe I needed to give him a second chance. I would leave that up to him. If he was interested, he would followup the date with a phone call. When the call never came, I knew my suspicions were accurate. I unfriended him on Facebook so I could write about my dates without feeling guilty.

I was disappointed it didn’t work out, but that was based on an assumption I made before I even met him. I would need to not get my hopes up so high before the first date. It would be the downfall of my morale if I let the bad dates and disappointment get to me…

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Excuse Me Mr. Officer

I left OCMD at 8:00am. My sister drove me back to Hoboken, and we made great time. I also managed to ramble off a few blog entries on the drive. So much for getting caught up while on vacation, but at least I was somewhat productive. I spent so much time hooking up and working on my tan, there was little left for anything else.

When I arrived home, I unpacked, but not before turning Grindr back on. There were more than a few guys I was courting before I left for vacation, and I wanted to touch base with them. I either texted them or waited until they were in Grindr range.

One guy I wasn’t expecting to touch base with again was a local police officer. Originally when I started talking to him, it took a lot to get that information out of him. He and I sparred verbally on Grindr a few weeks earlier. He had a day off and had tossed around the idea of meeting up. When push came to shove, he wouldn’t meet up.

This time, he was a black box with no picture and he messaged me out of the blue, “Hey. It’s [X] the cop. Wanna meet up today?” Apparently, he was in the area and had some free time between errands. All I had to do was unpack and grab a few groceries, so I obliged. He wasn’t giving me any ideas as far as what we were going to do. I told him he could come over and hang at my apartment, but I was a little worried he would take that to mean hookup. I also suggested taking a walk. Finally, I suggested we grab a coffee and maybe take a walk along the waterfront. Within ten minutes, he was at my apartment. I hopped in his car and shook his hand. He was a cut little hispanic boy who wore his hat on the very top of his head. He even had the cute gay slight hispanic lisp. I found it endearing. We chatted a bit in the car until we found a parking space near Starbucks.

When we ordered our coffee, he tried to insist on paying for me, but I wouldn’t let him. There was no need for him to pay. I’m stubborn that way when it comes to money and people paying for me.

After we got our coffees, we took a stroll along the water. We talked about his precinct and what it means to be an officer of the law. He told me about his partner and their dynamic. He seemed like a really nice down-to-earth guy, but I didn’t feel a spark there. I enjoyed his company, but could not see a relationship between the two of us.

The conversation turned to family and then evolved into his ex-boyfriend. He explained how it ended and how devastated he was when it did. My heart broke for him a little. I don’t know why, but I’m a sucker for heartbroken guys — Big soft spot for them. When our walk was over, we hopped back in the car and he drove me home. He had errands to get to, and I needed to get myself ready for my date that evening and to go back to work the next day after a week away.

Based on our interaction, I didn’t think he was all that into me, but I sent the text message, “It was nice meeting you.” He responded, “It was nice meeting you too.” In my mind, that was the end.

Almost a month later he texted me, but it was completely in the context of a hookup. When I called him on this, he tried to spin it as friends with benefits. It was 11:00 on a Monday night, and he wanted me to travel to his place. He wanted sex, and nothing more. That’s fine. I’m not judging, but I also wasn’t into the hookups so much anymore. The conversation was very blunt and polite. But, if we hung out again, it would simply be as friends, or possibly from a phone call for him to come get me out of trouble…

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Whoring It Up in OCMD Pt. 2

On the way to Rehoboth, the guy from the run texted me. I explained the situation and his lack of commitment. At this point, I was in over my head with the hicks. I told him to meet us in Rehoboth. I needed to be rescued, and he eventually came to my rescue.

We arrived at the bar, The Purple Parrot, and he arrived about a half hour later. I noticed the guy who originally was talking to me on Grindr was laying claim to me. I overheard some alarming conversations that made me realize he expected some sexual action from me. “I swear to God, if he goes home with this guy after we brought him up here!” This was NOT happening. I clung to my new friend like white on rice.

The hicks went inside to do karaoke, and my new friend and I followed shortly after. We found a bachelorette party of the sweetest girls to entertain us. We all became good friends fast, which was perfect because the hicks were ready to leave. I explained I was going to stay and would meet up with them later in the night. The one who laid claim to me tried to hang back with us and even asked for a ride home, but when he couldn’t get a guarantee, he got p*ssed and left. Later in the night I received a text scolding me for never meeting up. I retorted explaining why, and my reasoning was that I was not a piece of meat for him to lay claim to.

We spent the rest of the night singing karaoke with our new bachelorette friends and taking lots of pictures. We had a blast. When it was getting late, he asked if I was ready to go home. He was a really sweet guy, and I had a good time with him. Even if I had to deal with the hicks for most of the night, I was happy to get away and got to spend some time with a new friend.

On the way home, I rubbed the back of his head while he drove, and we chatted. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but there was no way in hell I was having sex with anyone. He drove right past my condo when we got back to Ocean City and went straight to his place. When we entered, he was startled because he mom was still up. We hid in a side hallway until he could devise a plan. He told me I was going to be “Steve” his friend, and we walked past her up to the loft he was staying in.

Once we got up there, we started making out a bit. He pulled his pants down and started playing with himself. My pants were off, but I still had my boxers on. I decided to give him a hand. He finished all over his shirt and pretty much passed out. I was really hoping he’d be a gentleman and drive me home, but that wasn’t going to be the case. I would have to walk 2.5 miles home at 3:00am. I told him I needed to wake up in my own bed, got dressed and walked out.

At this point, I was very horny. Along my walk, I received a message from the guy who exchanged blowjobs a few nights before with the man I just left. I heard how hot he was, so I entertained the idea of meeting him. His roommate was home, so he convinced me to meet him in the dark alley behind his apartment building. When I got there, he was standing with his dick in his hand. He was really hot. We started making out. He undid my pants and gave me a blowjob. After some time, I returned the favor and then continued working with my hand. Shortly after, he finished all over the sidewalk. It was really hot. I thought I was going to receive the same treatment, but instead, he told me he had to get back inside before his roommate noticed he was gone. This was now two guys in one half hour that I helped with a “night-cap” who didn’t feel the need to reciprocate.

On the next leg of my journey, my mother called. I explained that “Will” had too much to drink once we got back to O.C., and I wanted to sleep in my own bed, so I agreed to hop on the bus. However, all the buses were packed to the gills, so I told her I was walking home. She stated, “You’re an adult and you can stay out as long as you like, but you need to tell us when you’re going to be out this late. Your father and I haven’t been able to sleep.”

The entertain myself for the rest of the 2 miles I had to go, I turned to Grindr. I had received another message from yet another hottie while I was hooking up in an alley. At this point I was a complete whore. Why not tack on another one? This guy was horny and looking for action. I explained where I was and where I was headed. I told him he could come pick me up, but asked where we could hookup. I suggested his car, but being a local, he convinced me it was cool if we hooked up on the beach. Just as I was getting to my street, he drove past me and turned towards the beach. I followed and met him by the sand.

We introduced ourselves and began to walk through the dunes. Just then, the garbage trucks were driving across the beach to empty all the cans. We stood and waited for them to finish before we started making out. He was a good kisser, and he quickly moved on to orally pleasing me. He was good. He was very good. Finally, someone was interested in my pleasure that night. After a while, he stood. I dropped his pants and returned the favor. I never hooked up on a beach before. It was an exciting new venture for me. After a while, I asked if he was a bottom. I explained I wasn’t going to have sex with him, but I wanted to grind on each other a bit. He agreed and turned around. I pressed my body against his and gave him a reach around. He finished all over the sand. It was my turn. I started to take over for myself while he played with my balls. It felt great. When I shot all over the sand, he said, “Wow. I’ve never seen anyone shoot like that before.” I replied, “Yea… That’s my hidden talent.”

After the two of us decorated the sand, we got dressed and started to walk back towards his car. We talked about why he was in O.C. and how he was moving to NYC in September. I told him to hit me up when he did. I was always looking for new friends to hang out with. We said goodbye with a kiss, and I walked home.

When I got home, I opened the door quietly and hopped into the sofa bed I was relegated to since my sister arrived. My mother came out to scold me one last time before dozing off. I felt like such a high school boy sneaking around to hookup and getting yelled at for breaking curfew.

The next morning, the last day at the beach, the guy I met on the run wanted to meet up and make up for not finishing me off the night before. This was a constant circus of juggling locations and sneaking around. It was becoming nearly impossible. The solution we came up with; he would pick me up in his car and we would hookup in his car somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be a parking garage, and that hookup turned into a blowjob for me. We both finished in the car by our own hands. He was heading home straight from there, while I was heading to the beach to meet my family. He dropped me off by the sand, and we said our goodbyes. He encouraged me to hit him up the next time I was home in Pa.

I was ashamed and embarrassed of my behavior on my vacation, but I got it all out of my system. I wasn’t planning to hookup at all, but even went as far as to do it three times in one night. What a whore! Once again, things needed to change, but I just told myself it was vacation. I was allowed to take a vacation from my morals for a week…

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