Posts Tagged gentle

Suspicions Raised

Let me first start off today’s post by apologizing for my extended absence. I’ve been quite busy as of late and have a lot going on in my life right now. I promise you I will make a more concerted effort to dedicate time to the blog. I am truly touched by those who reached out to me expressing both concern and unhappiness regarding the lack of posts. I will do my bet not to let you down. That being said, on with the show…

I’d been dating CK for 2.5 months. To some, that may seem like a long time. To others, it’s the lifespan of a fruit fly. For me, I didn’t see it as a definitive amount of time. I saw it as a period during which my relationship was growing and evolving. Over the course of that time, I was learning. I was learning a lot about CK and about myself. I was learning what it takes to be in a real relationship of substance. I was trying to do things the right way this time, however, there is no right way. You just make it work. I was struggling with trusting CK.

I was constantly aware of the medium in which we were introduced to each other, and I was relatively aware of CK’s past. They didn’t instill the greatest of confidence in me. On top of that, I was still carrying issues with me from the other men who hurt me. I’m sure, by now, you’re tired of hearing about that, but I can guarantee you weren’t as tired of carrying that around as I was.

I had a few suspicions. I chalked them up to my over-active imagination, and I managed to put them aside.

One thing CK and I differed on was gay friends. I didn’t really have too many of them in my posse. Sure, Boston always gave me sage advice, and one of my volleyball teammates I’d known since high school was gay, but it’s not even enough to field a full team. Since I didn’t have too many gay friends, I never did get some of the idiosyncrasies that came with them, such as calling my gay male friends gerrlll. It just wasn’t part of my vernacular. But, one slow day at work, I pulled out my headphones and watched The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert on HBOGo, and finally I got it. It made sense to me. I didn’t see myself throwing it around all the time, but I finally got the bond it signified.

Speaking of gay friends, one of the few I had was visiting New York that weekend. It’d been a long time since I last saw Boston. I was very excited anticipating his arrival. I hoped we could hang out while he was in town. We’d both gotten rather busy, and we found it hard to make sure we kept in touch. However, he wasn’t arriving until the weekend.

Friday morning, I woke up to the sound of CK’s alarm blasting while he laid sound asleep. I roused him to turn it off, and I was wide awake. I motivated us to get out of bed and toss around the medicine ball while watching TV and eating breakfast. When we finished, my blood was flowing, and I was feeling rather frisky. I attempted to seduce CK, and it worked. We had less than little time since we’d already leisurely worked out and ate, but I could tell he was also feeling frisky. I didn’t have to go to work because I had a random day off, but CK did. He conceded to having sex, but insisted I give him a ride to the PATH on my motorcycle before we continued. It was a deal.

With that, I pounced. There was little I enjoyed more than morning sex. I was almost always horny and raring to go first thing, but after working out, I certainly needed a release. We had GREAT sex that morning. It was passionate and rough and gentle in all the right ways. I couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t keep my hands off him. As amazing as it was, the clock was ticking, and CK had a meeting to get to at work. We needed to stop. That certainly wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I knew it was the right thing to do. We hopped in the shower, and he finished getting ready for work.

When he was ready, I drove him to the PATH and kissed him goodbye. I sped home and finished myself off. It was all I could do to last that long. He really got me going, and like I said, I needed a release. After all the foreplay and sex with CK, the explosion was quite forceful and bountiful. It was a shame he wasn’t there to witness it.

CK texted me from work asking me if I wanted to see Magic Mike that night. I figured it’d be a really fun experience for us to go, so I was definitely in. What I wasn’t aware of was that he was planning to invite his old fling, Old News. I wasn’t thrilled with this idea, but I went with it because he was a friend. What I was thrilled with was Hip and Old News setting up a date, but when I learned that never really took off, I was disappointed. I didn’t really have anything against him. He was a nice guy, but he was a nice guy who happened to like my man. This was going to be part of growing for me. I needed to learn to trust him. But, it wasn’t really CK who I didn’t trust — It was Old News. In the few interactions I had with him, it was clear to me he wasn’t over CK yet. He wanted more, and I was clearly in the way of that. When CK opened up movie night to other friends, I did the same. I reached out to P to see if she wanted to join us, and I was thrilled to hear she would be joining us.

Before we went into the city to meet up with the other two, I prepped P. I asked her to do me a favor. I asked her to watch the interaction between CK and Old News. I wanted someone else’s perspective on the situation. I needed to know if it was just my imagination or something I needed to keep an eye on. She agreed to observe and report back.

P wasn’t the only one to whom I’d brought attention to my issue with Old News. CK knew I thought he still had a crush on him, but he was in denial. He didn’t agree with me. He pointed out the frank conversation they’d had in which CK explained to him extensively their friendship and nothing more. I wasn’t convinced, and that night, someone else would determine for me once and for all how to proceed with Old News.

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Late Night Quickie

Sunday night in LA, I took quite a blow to my heart. I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable goodbye, but I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’d driven all over LA trying to connect with The Navigator, but he wasn’t responding.

I faced facts and drove to the airport. I had no idea what else to do with my time, so I just drove to the car rental lot and returned my car. I figured I could at least use some time at the airport to blog a bit. I sat int he airport diner and ate my dinner alone.

My flight home was awful. First off, it was a redeye. I was set to land at 6:00am Monday morning. I had to go to work later that day so I tried my best to sleep on the plane. It was also awful because I was crammed in a widow seat towards the back of the plane. My airline status with United got me nowhere. I barely fit in my seat, and I wasn’t able to stretch out and walk around because the two men next to me were sleeping the entire flight.

I managed to sleep for two hours, but woke up after that. I had no feeling in my ring and pinky finger of my left had. Apparently I slept on it funny. When a fair amount of time passed, and I never regained feeling, I became worried. Maybe I had a blood clot or maybe I’d done some nerve damage. I tried to think about other things and distract myself, but I really started to get worried. I took out my laptop and did some more blogging, but even that was a challenge with two numb fingers. I was really starting to worry, but the feeling didn’t return the rest of the flight. (Four weeks and a doctor appointment later, and I finally regained feeling — I had a nerve impingement — Cubital Tunnel Syndrome).

I was exhausted all day at work Monday. I’d only gotten a few hours sleep on the plane and about one hour in my own bed before work. When I got home after work, I was still horny from my rambunctious trip. I was on Grindr, and a cute guy from the city wanted to come over for some fun. I didn’t turn him down since he was hot and said he’d wear his jockstrap.

When he arrived, I realized he was a redhead. He also had a slight Hispanic accent. He was also quite a presence clocking in at 6’4″. He was not born in America, but had been here a majority of his life. He was decent on the eyes, but nothing you’d run to your friends about. When he arrived we went straight to my room. He slowly got undressed and comfortable until we were both laying on the bed, me in my boxer briefs and him in a jockstrap.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I found the jockstrap very sexy. I’ve always been attracted to the athlete types and find locker rooms to be one of the sexiest places. They just turn me on. Always have.The jockstrap really gave him the leg up in my book. He was looking for a hot top, and I agreed to fill the position, literally. I broke out the condoms and lube, and we have a good time. Sometimes it was a little weird and awkward, but sex is never perfect! He really seemed to be enjoying himself. I did as well, but I could already tell this guy was going to linger. He was a gentle spirit. This would be no wham bam thank you man. I was going to have to sit through some pillow talk.

He started talking about his grandmother and how she is sick. He was flying home the following day to see her before she passed away. It wasn’t looking good. I started to feel bad for him, but then my emotions became distracted when he mentioned things like sleeping with her in her hospital bed. He looked like he was ready to cry, but all I could think about was this strange layout in a hospital room. I understood he was close to her, as she was responsible for raising him, but some of the things he was saying with his accent seemed very strange to me. There was obviously a cultural divide.

After we chatted some more, and he asked if he could use my shower. Now he was really pushing it! I obliged the request, but after that, he was gone.

He showered and toweled off. He began to get ready to go home. He talked about getting together again when he got back. He mentioned how heartless a lot of the other guys he’d hung out with were, and how sweet I was. He said how much he liked me. He wanted this to be an ongoing thing of friends with benefits. He told me his real name and that the name he gave me, Keith, was completely made up. Someone was a little paranoid. I felt like I found a stray puppy who wanted to follow me home. There would never be a next time, but I told him to hit me up when he got back from visiting his grandmother. After about three weeks, he did of course text, and I of course did not respond.

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