Posts Tagged grocery store
Separate Battle Camps
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 29, 2013
After spending a nice night at CK‘s apartment, I had a very hard time waking up the following morning. CK was fully motivated and had to be at work early, so he persisted in waking me up. This was quite the role reversal, as I was often the one dragging him out of bed (sometimes physically). I just wanted to spend the entire day in his bed wrapped up in his arms. Going to work was the last thing I wanted to do.
Things were improving on that front. I was making a lot of headway with my social media endeavors, and I had two interns to help me with this massive roll-out. I was developing a presence on Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest, WordPress, Instagram and SlideShare while revamping our presence on YouTube and Twitter. That being said, I still wanted to stay in bed all day.
CK finally motivated me to get out of bed and into the shower. I always enjoyed showering together, and today was no different. As I slowly emerged from my slumber under the warm jets of water, I began to fully appreciate CK’s body. I pressed it against mine while my soapy hands explored all his crevices. Being a water conservationist certainly had its benefits. I think CK was starting to regret waking me once he realized I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I was awake, and I was horny. I tried to get some action, but CK was on a mission to get ready for work. I needed a release. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate the entire day at work.
I laid down on the bed and began to take care of myself. CK immediately noticed and inquired what I was doing. I explained my situation, so he decided to pitch in on the effort. While I manually stimulated my member, he got to work on my prostate. Turned out, my libido was contagious, as CK began to pleasure himself as well. After a few minutes, I climaxed, only to be followed close behind by CK. Now, we could finally go about our day. I felt like I was awake, and I finally had a clear head (literally and figuratively). Nothing quite motivates you like a good morning orgasm.
We finished getting ready and were out the door rather early. We swung by our favorite place to grab breakfast before heading to work, Pick-A-Bagel. It sounds incredibly cheap, but it never disappoints. After we grabbed our food and coffees, we made our way to the subway. His train always came first (or I would narrowly miss mine), but today was my day. We parted ways, brown bags in hard, with a kiss as he waved goodbye from the subway platform.
That night after work, we planned to hit up yoga on the pier. As the day progressed, I learned CK probably wouldn’t be able to make it since he had to work late. I was still committed. I tried to encourage other friends to join me, but it was no use. Regardless, I still went and had a great workout. On my way home, I swung by the grocery store to get a few things for dinner. On my way into my apartment, I noticed a package for me. Like most people, I love getting mail. It always makes me feel special for some reason — The novelty has never worn off. When I got upstairs, I immediately opened my package.
It was the highly anticipated package from aussieBum. I’d been anxiously awaiting its arrival ever since they promised to send me some of their best underwear and bathing suits so I could review them on my blog. But, however large my excitement, I put the package aside and began working on dinner immediately. I wanted to food to be ready when CK arrived from a long day at work.
When he arrived, I showed him the package, and he grew quite excited. “I want a full fashion show when we’ve finished dinner!” he exclaimed.
As per usual, we ate our dinner in front of the TV, exchanging stories about our days. When we finished, we moved to my bedroom to lounge about. While he laid on the bed, I began to strip so I could model my new wares for him. As I moved from pair to pair, CK must have felt left out and asked if he could try some of them on. I asked that he not do so. I knew I’d want to include pictures of myself in them for the post, and I didn’t want anything to happen to them until I had time to snap the pictures. I’m not sure why, but this put his panties in such a bunch (pun intended).
I didn’t understand where his frustration was coming from. I thought my request was completely reasonable. He’d done nothing to deserve the underwear. They were not his. Why was he getting so bent out of shape. This, of course, led to an argument, and now, something so fun as modeling new underwear had now turned into a fight.
I’d had enough. I left the room with him in it so he could be miserable by himself and went back to the couch to watch TV. I know I was being as childish as he was, but I’d had enough. There was no reason we should be arguing about anything so fun. Sure, I could have just relented and let him try on the underwear. But, I wasn’t in the mood. If he was going to be so miserable, he could do so by himself.
That night, we went to bed not speaking to each other. There was no sex and no cuddling – All over a few pairs of underwear. Rarely had my California King felt so big, but that night, we might as well have been sleeping on opposite sides of the Hudson.
Things Heat Up
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 15, 2013
In the summer, my company offers half day Fridays. It’s an amazing perk, and I take full advantage.
I live for my weekends, so if there was anything I could do to make them better, I did. I utilized my free Friday afternoons to run my errands so Saturday and Sunday would be all mine. I tried to clean and do laundry, run to the grocery store, etc.
This Friday, I was very successful getting through my list. I stopped by my allergist for my weekly shot. Since I left work at 1:00, I decided to eat lunch at McDonalds (never a good decision). While sitting there, I noticed two men walking holding hands across the street. I was a bit surprised. I immediately thought, “We do that in Hoboken?!” In the six years I’d lived in Hoboken, only once before had I seen two men holding hands. I was thrilled to see the courage and the progress.
When I finished eating, I swung by the salon for a haircut and hit up the gym to lift and swim. After my swim, I called CK from the roof deck of the gym. Although we made tentative plans for Saturday night, we hadn’t discussed plans for that night. It was our anniversary. He automatically assumed I was spending the night in the city since he came to Hoboken the previous night. I was not under the same impression, so I explained I did not want to spend both Friday and Saturday night away from place. I told him to pick one. This of course turned into an argument. He complained about the trek to Hoboken, and I resented this. I’d made the trip back into the city to be with him many times after a long day at work, and I did it without complaint. He always made it seem like torture when he had to traverse the Hudson River. The argument grew more and more heated until he threatened not to come at all. I wasn’t having any more of this, so I hung up on him.
I was tired of this game we were playing. I didn’t want to argue anymore. In addition, my testosterone was already flowing after a solid workout, and my blood was beginning to boil with every complaint.
After I got home and a few minutes passed, he called back (He always was good at playing the role of peacemaker). He told me he’d come to Hoboken, but it wouldn’t be until later. We discussed the argument calmly, and both apologized for getting out of hand. He explained he had assumption I was coming there all day. The idea of him trekking out to Hoboken on a bus wasn’t all that thrilling to him after having those expectations all day. I explained how one of us would always have to make the trek to the other. There was nothing we could do about that, at least for now, so the more fair and balanced we could make it (and the less complaining), the less burdensome it would feel. He agreed.
Since I had a fair amount of time before his arrival, I continued with my to-do list and swung by Shop Rite and Target. When I finished and returned home, I was still a bit depressed from the bad news I’d received at work that week, so I plopped down on the couch and watched TV until CK arrived.
Hours passed, and I heard nothing from him. I felt he was dragging his feet and as every minute passed, I grew more and more annoyed. He told me he had to shower before coming over. He obviously wasn’t still showering. I was sure he was just lounging about, which is fine. But I wanted him to be lounging about with me.
This wasn’t just any night after all. We were supposed to be “celebrating” our three-month anniversary. I finally got so annoyed I sent him a text: “Maybe tonight would be better spent apart. I’m in a really cranky mood now.” It was already past 10:00. At this point he was coming over to sleep and not much else. He called and told me he was already in a cab on the way to the PATH. I encouraged him not to doddle before saying goodbye. I needed to cool off before he arrived, or it was a guaranteed fight the moment he arrived. It seemed all the smallest things so easily got under my skin. I was all wound up. Work was stressing me out. Life was stressing me out…
Finally, at 11:00, he arrived, flowers in hand to make up for the botched night. Honestly, I would have preferred he came three hours prior, but the gesture was utterly sweet. And, I forgave/thanked him immediately. I tried to be cool with everything and have a nice time with him since it was a special night. There was no use being miserable.
It wasn’t really his fault either. Work made me a miserable son-of-a-b*tch. He asked me how my day was. I further explained my new predicament and fretted over the possibility of being unemployed in the near future. I was very pessimistic about the whole situation.
I certainly will hand it to him. He remained positive and tried to assure me everything would be fine. This is why I loved him so much. NO matter how much of a Debbie Downer I can be, he always picks me up and dusts me off. In spite of my pessimism, he was always optimistic.
We also learned to collaborate professionally. We were helping each other bolster up our positions in the social media realm of our jobs. He taught me things I didn’t know about, and through my recent vigorous research, I taught him a thing or two as well.
When I’d had enough talk of my job situation, we agreed to order Chinese food for dinner. I was too tired to cook. While we waited for the food to arrive, we smoked to relax.
He told me about his day at work and the stellar presentation he delivered to the powers that be. He was proposing a new initiative that was well received by the decision-makers. I was happy for him, but also jealous. Sure, I realize how horrible that is to say, but I’m nothing if I’m not honest.
The rest of the night was much better than the evening had begun. Eventually, I forgot all about our fight and my emotions were back in check. We ate our food while watching TV in each other’s arms on the couch.
I finished eating, but CK was still chowing down as he poured some of the General Tso’s sauce onto on his plate. After a few minutes, he started fretting. Apparently, he’d eaten something quite hot. After investigating, I realized he ate a whole chili pepper. Tears were streaming down his face as he rinsed his mouth over and over again in the sink. Next he tried a glass of milk and a few pieces of bread. That didn’t seem to be helping. He even took to wiping his tongue with a napkin. Nothing helped. It was all I could do to maintain my composure, but after a while I couldn’t hold back. His face wasn’t the only one wet from tears. I was hysterically laughing so hard I was crying.
After a good laugh, interspersed with failing advice, I consulted Google for a better solution. We’d tried everything in the book. When I told him someone suggested eating another one, he looked like he was going to throw me out the third-story window. I was still getting a chuckle out of all this but certainly at his expense. It was torture for him, but he had no idea the gift he was giving me. He delivered exactly what I needed that night — A good laugh.
Eventually the pain subsided, and he forgot all about the incident. As our eyelids grew heavier and heavier, we moved to my bedroom for the night. As tired as we were, our appetites weren’t quite satiated.
We were pinning each other down for the count before we counting sheep. As hot as things were for him during dinner, things in the bedroom were even hotter. We tired ourselves out between the sheets before he finally drifted off to slumber wrapped in my arms. That night taught me something very important. No matter how much we fought, this was the man I loved, and there was no changing that.
One Relationship, Two Locations
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 16, 2012
Since Monday night was spent at CK’s, as per usual, we decided to spend our Tuesday night in Hoboken. Tuesday night in the summer is a big night in Hoboken.
CK and I had begun hitting up free yoga on the pier every Tuesday after work. It was a great way to hit the reset button and recharge for a new week. I found myself looking forward to the group outdoor session more and more. We’d even begun to make a few friends in the class.
I got out of work on time and made my way home to grab our yoga mats. CK had to work a little later, so he was going to meet me on the pier. I invited many of my other friends who had hit up yoga once or twice, but no one took the bait. I arrived just barely on time and reserved a spot for the two of us. CK finally arrived a few minutes into class as we continued our poses and relaxing breathing.
Earlier that morning, we planned to attempt to go to the movies that evening as part of Optimum’s Triple Play free movie night in Hoboken. I myself don’t have the service, so I have to borrow a friend’s card and hope he has no intention of going. When I learned we wouldn’t be able to get ahold of his pass, we decided to forgo the movies. Instead, we swung by the grocery store on our way home to share a home-cooked dinner for two.
We enjoyed our food on the couch in front of the TV, relaxing for the rest of the evening. It was nice to cuddle up next to him and watch TV. It was beginning to feel like a routine. Even though we still lived in separate apartments, it felt like we were living together. We spent nearly every night in each other’s company. The only difference was we had two residences.
We’d talked about moving in together. Neither of us was thrilled with our current roommate situations. Mine were simply disrespectful and unappreciative, and his… Well, we could be here all day. Every day was a new shady dealing. He needed to get out, and his lease was scheduled to be renewed in November. We didn’t make a concrete decision we would live together at that time, but we both began entertaining the idea.
I know many of you are shocked by the timeline there. Come November, we’ll have been dating for eight months. I know that sounds like a very short time to be together before moving in together, but like I said, it was almost as if we already lived together. Not much would be different. We both agreed this would be a goal for now, not a definitive date.
When bedtime arrived, we made our way to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Things took a bit of a detour when CK began seducing while I brushed my teeth. From there, things only got better. The sex was great. We were back on our game. And, true to our fashion, we flipped. That seemed to be how things went for us. Neither was a top, and neither was a bottom. We both experienced all the parts of sex. Our sex-life was very healthy and diverse. I’d finally found my match both inside and outside the bedroom. He managed to satisfy my physical and emotional needs. I was truly happy.
I thought about all the others before him. They seemed a distant memory. None of them came close to my relationship with my Superman. Many of them treated me poorly and didn’t deserve my love. Some of them attempted to love me, but the connection wasn’t there. I didn’t regret a single one of them, for they all brought me to where I am today. Sure, I was still carrying around some of the scars, but I was a stronger man for them. Those were my battle wounds. Those were my war stories. I didn’t miss any of them, but cherished their presence in my life — Even the a$$holes. I was truly in love, and I didn’t want it to end. The road I’d taken had led me to CK, so looking back, I wouldn’t have changed a single direction.
The next night was spent apart. I was supposed to be getting my review at work, but my boss rescheduled it twice that day, and then he had to schedule it for the following day. I was frustrated and needed to take those frustrations out somewhere.
I hit up the gym to lift and swim to calm my nerves. While there, he calls finally, telling me he’s working late and probably can’t come see me. Once again, I felt disappointed. He asked if I would mind coming into the city, but I wasn’t up for that. After not hearing from him all day, I made alternate plans. I was meeting up with my old roommate for a drink. I suggested maybe we needed to spend the night apart. He agreed.
More and more, I was realizing maybe we had been spending too much time together. Small things were getting on each other’s nerves. I wondered if I was losing my individuality. Now that I was back in the gym again, I was feeling better about myself. I relished my workout time. This was something I put on the back burner after meeting CK. We both needed some “me time” every once in a while.
As time progressed, we would find that balance. We’d only been dating four months. We were still figuring everything out. But, I knew, in the end, we’d figure it out together.
Technical Difficulties
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.
Equilibrium
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 23, 2012
After our week in the “country” house, as CK liked to call it, it was time to utilize our city abode. It was in no shape, however, to be lived in. Sure, the new bed was delivered, the delivery of which was a bit of contention between us, but the bed was surrounded by towers of boxes.
The day the bed was delivered followed a week straight with CK. There were errands I needed to take care of I never got to do when we were together. Because of this, I dropped CK off for the bus and told him I would meet him in the city later. I was trying to be productive with my time, rather than waiting for the bed to be delivered with him. Looking back, we probably should have just done them together, but at the time, I didn’t want to subject him to my boring burdens.
We were both eating dinner when I cooked at my place, so there’s no reason I should feel guilty dragging him to the grocery store. Going forward, I learned to shed that guilt quite easily. But on the flip side, this meant I would be going to the grocery store with him on the other side of the river. That seemed like a much better arrangement. I was beginning to resent that I had to do the responsible duties while he had all the fun, but that wasn’t fair to him. He never turned me down when I asked him to help me, but in reality, I never asked him in the first place. I couldn’t resent him if I didn’t give him the chance to delight me. There were lots of not exciting things we would both need to do, like cleaning our apartments, that while not fun at all, they could be completed much faster with both our efforts in tandem. Our lives were blending together, and I loved it. It wasn’t smooth, but I loved it.
On the flip side, since we were spending so much time together, I was finding it hard to make the time to work out. My body was paying the price, and as a result, my self-esteem plummeted even lower. I needed to start running again. I needed to get back in the gym and start lifting again.
This posed the challenge of a delicate situation. CK proposed that we work out together. I knew I was a far better runner than CK was. That’s not a dig against him at all, but put simply, I ran cross-country in high school and swam in college. In order for me to get results from my workouts, I needed to push myself, and I needed to push myself hard! I wouldn’t be able to do that if I was holding back to run at CK’s pace. I didn’t want to insult him or his abilities, but I wasn’t sure this was something we’d be able to integrate.
Regardless of this, I decided to make an effort to give it a shot. When I told CK I wanted to go for a run one night, he wanted to join me. We both got ready and walked over to the west bank of the Hudson to run along the trail. As I predicted, we clocked a pace much less effective than I was hoping. I decided I needed to speak up. I was met with the response I had dreaded. He took insult to my comments that I needed to run faster. I didn’t know any way to navigate this without creating a conflict. He took it personally that I was insinuating he was holding me back.
As a result, he played the role of the martyr and told me to take off. The result of running at our own pace was what I was hoping for, but the hurt feelings and passive-aggressive response was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I tried to talk to him about it to make it a discussion so there would be no hurt feelings, but he wanted none of it. He’d rather I just go, so that’s what I did.
While I ran, I thought about how to deal with the fallout of this. It made sense to me that we work out together, but we needed to do it in a way that benefited us both. I was going to resent it if I wasn’t getting the full potential out of the workout, and that benefits no one. That’s when I came up with a solution:
When we ran together, we would start out together at a warm-up pace. When I was sufficiently warmed up, I would pick up the pace and run ahead of him. When I felt I was half way through the workout, I would turn around and pick him up on the way back. When I overtook him, I would slow down to a cool down pace. I thought it the perfect solution.
It’s also basically what we were doing. When I turned around, I quickly came to find myself right behind him. As we ran, I proposed this new idea, but he still wasn’t having any part of it. I realized I was in a losing battle, and this would have to be addressed later when his ego healed.
Working out in the gym was also a whole other battle. When I go to the gym I like to be by myself. I do not treat it as a social excursion. I am there to work out and go home. I don’t even like spotting someone when they ask me for help. I resent it because I am there for my workout, not theirs. I don’t ask anyone else to spot me. I am not a trainer or an employee. Why should I be “working” at the gym? I know this sounds very antisocial, and that’s exactly what it is. I’m not the biggest fan of lifting. I see it as a necessary evil. I want to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.
When CK asked me to lift with him all the time, I was very hesitant. I loved him, but I was so used to lifting by myself. I knew if we did this together, I would get cranky, and it would start a fight. I was trying to save us from that. I also liked to go to the gym during my lunch break at work, so when he would ask me to hit the gym with him in the morning or the evening, I wouldn’t want to. I would want to use that time for far more fun things.
It was going to be a delicate balance, trying to integrate our lives, but eventually we would find equilibrium. Both sides would have to make sacrifices and concessions, but both sides would benefit from each other as well. Needless to say, CK was the first guy I’d gone to these steps with. It was new territory for me, but it was certainly exciting as well!
Follow @onegayatatimeDating The David
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 22, 2012
After a relaxed night, including dinner, cuddling and a dream-filled night sleeping together, CK and I woke early feeling frisky. It was six am, but we were both turned on and wide awake.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started fooling around. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I was pulling him in tight and hugging him with all my might. I never wanted to let go. I lifted my hand, and gave him a smack on his backside. He always liked this — I was somewhat obsessed with his butt. It was amazing — Like The David amazing.
He put his mouth around my member and went to town. I laid back and enjoyed all the sensations. It was all I could do to hold out from jumping on top of him and slipping inside. After some time, my wish was granted. We changed positions, and I was on top of him. I slid in slowly, savoring every stimulation sensation I felt as I did. I started slow, and the pace only picked up from there. We changed to many other positions that morning.
We continued until neither could take it anymore. He finished, and we made our way to the shower to clean up. The fun didn’t end in the bed. We continued molesting each other while we showered together.
After we dried off, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I wanted more sex. We were already late from fooling around in bed all morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate all day at work if I didn’t finish. He began to blow me once again, which morphed into mutual oral pleasure. I still couldn’t finish. It was getting late, and we weren’t making much progress, so we stopped. I would simply save it for that night.
We got dressed and made our way to the PATH to head into work. We both read the third book of the Hunger Games series, Mocking Jay. I had only a handful of pages left before I finished. I was at a part of the book that was very emotionally charged and describes a loving relationship my boyfriend and I often mimicked. I was very happy with the ending, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Reading the book made me fall in love with him even more.
I texted him throughout the day to tell him how much I missed him. All day long, he would ask me, “Real or not real?” — a line from the Hunger Games books. This was definitely real. I was falling in love with this amazing man every second of every day.
I also took the opportunity to ask him if he liked lobster. I was thinking we’d go to the grocery store and pick up some cheap lobsters for dinner. He was totally onboard.
He needed to stop by his place before coming to mine. Since it was only a few blocks from my office, he encouraged me to swing by before heading to Hoboken. I told him this wouldn’t be an extended thing. I explained I still needed to go to the grocery store to get the lobsters before cooking them. I didn’t want to get sucked into a post-work romp before heading back to my place.
We finally made our way to my apartment. We hopped on the motorcycle and hit up ShopRite in Hoboken. I have to tell you; the seafood guy there is the coolest. He knows so much about seafood and will always suggest how to cook things. We even took the opportunity to snap a picture of him weighing the four lobsters we bought. It was then and there we decided to go home and play with the lobsters. We were going to have Hunger Game reenactments. We were like a bunch of teenage girls.
When we got home, we put all the lobsters on the counter and cut the bands off their claws. I grabbed the whiteout so we could paint them to denote who was who. We even bought pitas to represent Peeta. CK had the great idea to use the Video Star app to make a music video set to Lana Del Ray’s parody of Video Games, Hunger Games.
While he filmed with his iPhone, we moved the lobsters around and made them fight each other.
When we were done playing, we dropping the lobsters into the pot and steamed them. We each had our own lobster, and I froze the other two to use for other recipes down the road (Yes, I keep lobster on hand to use in recipes). They were delicious. When we sufficiently made a mess of the entire kitchen and had our fill, we cleaned up and made our way to my bedroom. We watched a little TV before we both dozed off.
Things were starting to feel routine with him, and not in a bad way. We were so comfortable together. This is also when we both realized just how comfortable we are with each other. While in bed, he let one rip in front of me. I laughed hysterically. We’d finally reached the point we could comfortable fart in front of each other. I too squeezed one out in an act of solidarity. I told him how many farts I’d already buried in the bed with him in the past. We talked very openly about it from then on out. He asked questions about holding it in, and I explained I would always let them go when I left the room and even brought up how one slipped the first night I spent at his place. We both had a hearty laugh about it all.
He made me so happy. I found myself spending my entire day looking forward to seeing him again. Work was simply something I did between my time off — Between the time I’d get to see him again.
Follow @onegayatatimeGlued to the Bed
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 5, 2012
Waking up with one of the sexiest men I’d ever met, Clark Kent, in my arms would make any morning spectacular. On top of that, I had no obligations to fulfill that day. It was Saturday, and I was ready to lounge around. Sure I had plans to go to the gym and grocery store, but that would wait until much later. Right then, there was a gorgeous specimen of a man in my bed, and I wasn’t going to let him go to waste.
I cuddled and snuggled with him. It was finally 11:00am when I was conscious enough to remain awake for more than a few seconds to shift our spooning positions. I don’t think there was a moment we weren’t in contact with each other throughout the night. Even when we were sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, my hand was on his thigh.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke, things started slow and progressed rather quickly. We were both naked before we knew it. Eventually, we found ourselves in a familiar position. I had my face buried in his backside. He always derived great pleasure from this, and I wasn’t shy about delivering. I even pulled out some of the tricks I learned in the Tickle My Tush book once again. Oral penetration eventually led to full penetration. He felt amazing, and I was not in any hurry to stop. Every thrust was better than the last, however, whenever I slowed the pace to both give myself a break and to enjoy the friction, he would protest, “DON’T STOP!” I picked the pace back up again and pushed as deep as I could go. He let out constant moans of pleasure, this time at a decent volume until he needed to stop to catch his breath.
He immediately turned over to face me with a look of exhaustion/excitement in his eyes. “Baby! You feel AMAZING!” he exclaimed. I dove on top of him and began to kiss him passionately. I told him how great he felt as well between zealous kisses. I took his legs and lifted them high and began to penetrate him again. It felt incredible. When I finally stopped, he said, “I love when you take me from behind, but this way… I dunno. You just hit the spot every time!”
We laid intertwined with each other enjoying the moment. We had great sexual chemistry. It had been such a long time since I’d shared that on top of chemistry outside the bedroom. Standard issue seemed to be one or the other as of late. CK was the full package.
After considerable amounts of cuddling, he climbed on top of me while I arched my back and gave him everything he wanted. I knew that morning my roommate’s friend slept over. I’d already heard them up and talking. I was a bit reserved in my morning romp with CK out of slight embarrassment. While I didn’t care if they knew I was having sex, I didn’t want to be overly loud about it. I buried my face in the pillow and let out my grunts and moans through a heavy down filter. When the moment hit, he pulled out and finished on my back.
Most straight women don’t understand this, but when a guy finishes on you, it can be incredibly hot, not something to turn your nose up at. It is a sign that you truly excite them. For me it’s validation, and it’s an incredible aphrodisiac. Many times, seeing a guy shoot is what it takes for me to finish as well. He asked where I kept the towels, but I was incapable of words. Only grunts came out. I tried with all my might to use my arm to reach down to my nightstand drawer, but no matter how much I concentrated, I could not move. I finally gave in and just lay there accepting defeat. “I’m glued to the bed,” I told him. “You will be glued if you roll over onto your back,” he added through a laugh. My body was in full orgasm. After about ten minutes, I regained composure and handed him a towel to wipe my back.
We rotated and lay in each other’s embrace. I was enjoying everything about him. He was witty. He was fun and adventurous. He was smart. He was incredibly sexy. Most of all he was passionate and caring. He was exactly what I needed – Exactly what I was looking for. We enjoyed the embrace for some time before he finally began orally pleasuring me – One of his favorite activities.
This time it felt amazing. I closed my eyes and concentrated on how good it felt. I imagined penetrating him and his mouth being his insides. It felt amazing. I thought about how good it would feel to explode inside of him, and that’s when it finally happened. I gave out a warning, and began to explode like a fountain. CK was greatly excited by this and took advantage. “Wow! You really weren’t kidding. Hidden talent indeed,” he added. I simply smiled and began giggling from his gentle touch tickling me.
I was so incredibly relieved. I’d finally finished with him. I didn’t want him to take it personally or worse, think I was broken. I told him early on of my issue, but he seemed to be quite understanding of it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t bring it up periodically, further stressing me on the issue, but regardless, I finished and made him happy.
We made our way to the shower, where the fun only continued. We quickly found ourselves back in bed together sans clothing or towels. We just lay intertwined for almost an hour. We’d already spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon together in bed. He was answering texts on his phone periodically and showed me a text from his mother. It mentioned being at [One Gay At A Time’s] and her reply was: “Hoboken sounds nice. Why don’t you look for a place there?” However, he told me he couldn’t afford any studios in Hoboken. I was touched he’d mentioned me to his mother and was excited he actually entertained the idea of living in Hoboken.
When my empty stomach couldn’t take it anymore, I suggested I make us breakfast. I told him to stay in bed while I whipped something up. I took some of my world-class pork and apple sausages out of the freezer, scrambled some eggs with cheddar cheese, and buttered some toast. I returned to the room to get his coffee flavor or choice and let him know breakfast was ready. He emerged shortly thereafter and joined me for breakfast. “If you’re trying to win me over, you’re going about it all the right way!” he said after shoveling some of the sausage into his mouth. This was the second time I’d heard him say this.
After we finished eating we made our way to the couch. We were both shirtless the entire morning and afternoon. My roommates and their friends came and went and we paid them no attention. We watched TV and movies all afternoon. When it was getting to be about 4:00, he admitted defeat and suggested he just stay. He wasn’t going to make any progress finding an apartment at that point, and he much rather stay with me anyway. With that, we both smoked a little and enjoyed each other’s company in front of the TV.
We ordered Mediterranean for dinner, opened a special bottle of Malbec I’d been saving for the right guy and had more of the pineapple upside down cake for dessert. We watched Bridesmaids and other movies the rest of the night. We stayed on the couch all day until we both passed out. When he finally woke me, it was 1:30am, and we made our way to bed. I was exhausted, and I’d done absolutely nothing all day long. It was some of the best absolutely nothing I’ve ever done. Every last second of it.
Follow @onegayatatimeShout From the Rooftop
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on April 9, 2012
Today is a Fast Forward Monday!!!
Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!
Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…
After spending the day with The Navigator at the beach and then sharing a pretty spectacular relaxing evening together, I slept great. There was a sexy naked man in my bed, and I knew just what to do with it. We fell asleep spooning each other. When I woke in the morning, I couldn’t stop smiling when I realized it wasn’t a dream.
I still had to bring myself back down out of the clouds to keep myself in check. This wasn’t going to last forever. I didn’t care. Right now, there was a man in my bed, and he needed to be cuddled.
I rolled over and pulled him close to me. He was still slipping in and out of sleep. As he woke up, we picked up just where we left off the night before. Everything we did was fun. We were constantly ribbing each other and joking around. When we ended laying face to face, I said to him, “I just want to climb up to the roof and shout, I love my best friend, [The Navigator]. Boop!” as I reached my finger out and tapped him on the nose (an homage to Super Bad).
We both laughed for some time. We continued to cuddle all morning. I didn’t care if I stayed in bed all day. I was happy.
We were interrupted by a call from his roommate. I’d already learned he was a really good friend, and he liked to placate his friends. While he was on the phone, I took out my camera and snapped a few pictures of him lying naked in my bed. I don’t think he realized what I was doing because he had his back to me, but I wanted some souvenirs to take home with me.
Turns out, his roommate wanted to go to the grocery store that afternoon. They share groceries, so he regrettably turned to me and told me he had to go with him that afternoon before we went hiking. I was very disappointed, but I wasn’t going to make a stink about it. I quickly hopped in the shower and got ready for the day while he packed up his things and got dressed. As we walked out the door, I pointed out the Marilyn Monroe portrait saying, “My week with Marilyn.”
I drove him home and dropped him off. I was already sad to see him go even though I knew it was a matter of hours before I’d see him again. I grabbed some lunch and made my way back to the pool. I relaxed with some light reading. I needed to finish off the Tickle My Tush book so I could write my review.
When most of the afternoon passed by and some noisy kids arrived at the pool, I texted him to see how he was progressing. He was on his way home, so I decided to go get ready to go hiking and make my way over to his place.
I pick him up, and we take a short drive to the base of the mountain. I grab my camera and we make our way up the trail. When we get to a decent height, he suggests we climb back down part way and hit up another trail that had a much better view. We were having fun just being together. On our way back down, he pointed out a shack along the trail: “I wanted to surprise you, but this is going to be where we live when we get married. :)” While he said this, he took hold of my arm. I knew he was completely kidding, but it was also a sweet gesture.
When we got to the top of the other trail, we had quite a view. We could see LA and Burbank off in the distance. He took my camera from me and took some pictures of me. Again, I thought this was a sweet gesture, as were many things he did. He was just very conscientious. You didn’t have to ask him to do things; he just anticipated it. I was falling for him more and more every minute, but I still maintained my mental state.
I then turned the camera on him and snapped a few pictures. I wanted to remember the great guy I met in LA. I hoped we’d remain friends even after I returned to New York. It would certainly be nice to have a friend on the West Coast. Maybe I could even come back to visit some time.
We climbed back down the mountain and made our way to Burbank. We joked about PDA. We both agreed we weren’t really into it, but at one point he casually reached out his hand and grabbed my junk while looking the other way. I pointed out to him that just because he wasn’t looking at it doesn’t mean other people wouldn’t see it as well. We both laughed and continued to joke about other things. We walked around for a little bit and grabbed some ice cream. He was cold, and I was trying to do my best to keep him warm without making him feel uncomfortable. That’s when he broke the bad news to me.
He’d already prepared me for the possibility he’d have to go to work that night at 1:00am. He was on call, and they hadn’t gotten back to him yet. He needed to go home and nap before that shift started.
My heart sank a little. He wouldn’t be spending the night in my bed again. I needed to be a big boy about it though. I drove him back to his apartment and said goodbye. We talked about seeing each other the following day since it was my last day there; I had a flight out at 10:00pm.
I returned to my hotel room and watched TV in my bed. I knew he was napping, but it was make or break for me to ask him if he would come with me for my ride up the Pacific Coast Highway. After debating for some time, I decided to text him: “Lonely here without you already 😦 haha. What are the chances you’d wanna ride up the PCH with me after work tom?” I really didn’t want to take that ride alone. I loved his company, but I seriously feared a disappointing answer.
The Navigator wouldn’t let me down like that: “LOL. I know. I wish I were cuddling with you!!!!! That sounds like a swell idea.” I was thrilled. I was prepared for the worst, and I got the best. I was looking forward to tomorrow’s road trip so much more now that I had my Navigator! “Marylyn Misses you too,” I added.
Shortly after that text, he requested I send him some pictures of myself. “You’re most handsome ones,” he added. “Whom are you showing me to now?” I asked. Apparently, he wanted to show off his “super long first date” to his roommate and his other friend.
I was pretty crazy about him, but reality wasn’t absent from my brain. It did, however, bring a big smile to my face to know he was showing me off to his friends. It made me feel special and gave me hope I would have a longtime friend from what started as weak Grindr banter…
Follow @onegayatatimeOnly the Beginning
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 19, 2011
Friday afternoon, I had a pitch in the New Jersey suburbs. When the meeting finished, I hopped in my car service home. It would be nice to get home earlier than a normal workday after many late nights at work that week.
Smiles and I made plans to spent the night together. Since I finished early, I took the opportunity to call Smiles and ask him to come over. He wasn’t busy, so he began to get ready and make his way to Hoboken.
When I got back, I wanted to do a few things. I wanted to make a quick run to the grocery store to grab some food to make for dinner, but I also wanted to get a haircut. I was in desperate need of one. I didn’t have time to do both, so I decided to choose the haircut.
I hopped on the motorcycle and hit up my usual spot to get my ears lowered. Of course, I had less time than I originally expected. He began calling the second I sat in the chair. I texted him and asked him to hang out at Starbucks until I could make it down to meet him.
All the while he was waiting for me at Starbucks, I was getting the worst haircut of my life. She completely removed my sideburns. I was not a happy camper, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I quickly paid, hopped on the motorcycle, and made my way down to meet Smiles. He was sitting in a comfortable chair sipping his coffee when I arrived. I hung out for a few minutes while he finished because it doesn’t exactly work out well taking a coffee on the back of the motorcycle. While we waited, I pointed out my new botched haircut. He didn’t sugar-coat it for me, and he told me what he thought.
When he finished, we hopped on the bike and went to my apartment. We walked in to find my roommate finally cleaning up his mess in the kitchen. We left him to his work, and we sat and watched TV until we decided what to do with our Friday evening. I introduced Smiles to my new favorite show, An American Horror Story. I was curious how he’d feel about it because he used to be a television producer.
I posed him a decision about food for the evening. I told him I no longer had the energy to cook dinner, so we could grab takeout/delivery, or we could go out for dinner. He suggested we go out for a nice dinner since he’d never really gone out in Hoboken much. I made a few suggestions and showed him them online. We decided on Dino & Harry’s, a great steakhouse I’d actually gone to with N when we were dating. We took a casual stroll up there around 7:30. I knew there would be a long wait since it was such a popular weekend dinner spot. When we arrived, Smiles spoke to the hostess and got an estimated wait for a table. It was 45 min. to an hour. We decided to check out a few other options. We weren’t thrilled with the other options, so we decided to head back to grab a drink at the bar while we waited.
We ordered the calamari appetizer and adult beverages while we talked. Before long, and after a little sweet-talking on Smiles’ part, we were offered a table. I could see in Smiles’ eyes, he was already feeling his drink. It was cute to see his tolerance in juxtaposition to my own high tolerance. I wasn’t turned off at all by it. In fact, I was enjoying it because he was being more playful than usual.
Throughout dinner we had great conversation. I was very happy. It was a very nice night together, and it was nice to be on my home turf for the first time in a while. We shared dessert and had our fill. This was one of the nights on the high end of the spectrum that seemed to make up for the nights on the lower end.
We paid our tab and made our way back to my apartment. The temperature dropped pretty drastically, so we walked as briskly as one can after consuming big steaks and desert.
When we got home, we hopped into my bed and cuddled while we talked for a while. I can’t remember what we talked about, but the conversation was very relaxed and casual. I finally felt he was comfortable with me and was opening up. This led to me removing his shirt and rolling him onto his stomach. I loved pleasing him, so I massaged his shoulders and back.
I wasn’t really in the mood for sex that night. We both had a fair amount to drink and it was a long day for me. I wasn’t going to push the sex issue since I wasn’t into it myself. I would attempt to jump his bones in the morning, the time I am usually at my horniest.
Instead, we both got ready for bed and dozed off. Tomorrow was a new day. Who knew what it would bring?…
Follow @onegayatatimeFillet Mignon and Baked Potatoes
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 18, 2011
After breakfast at the hotel, we got back on the road to my great-aunt’s house in Mount Vernon to drop off the keys and make our way home. It was surprisingly fast.
I was really disappointed I never got to chat much with the bride. It’d been years since I’d last seen her, and we only speak on the phone about once every four or five months.
During the whole ride, I had a lot of time to think. For me, this is deadly. When I have time to think, I crawl up into my own head and start digging around where I shouldn’t be digging — This is why I lead such an active lifestyle. Thinking depresses me.
A lot of thoughts about Smiles were going through my head. I was a little hurt and upset my advances were rejected in the morning. I also was very disappointed I didn’t get to grab brunch with him. Overall, I guess you could technically deem the weekend with him a success, but I still wasn’t thrilled. I was on unstable ground. I had no idea where I stood with him, and it was getting to me. As usual, I was over-thinking everything.
When we got back to Hoboken, we stopped at the grocery store. I decided to call Smiles to see if he wanted to come over that night. I wanted to make him a nice home-cooked meal since he never cooks for himself. We always go out for dinner or order take-out. He agreed to come by. I also had ulterior motives. I wanted make-up sex for Saturday morning when I was denied.
That evening, when he got off the PATH, I hopped on the motorcycle and rode down to pick him up. I was happy to finally get him out on the bike. He’d been on one before, so it wasn’t as exciting as the first time I’d taken motorcycle virgins on the bike, but it was nice to have him so close to me. We rode back to my apartment with his arms tightly around me. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I started us off with some artichokes while the fillets finished grilling and the rest of the meal finished cooking. I made more food than the two of us could possibly finish. When we had our fill, I cleaned up, and we made our way to my bedroom for the night. He asked if he’d be spending the night. “Of course you’re spending the night! Did you think I was going to kick you out now?” I responded. “I don’t know. Some people need their rest before Monday morning,” he said. I reminded him the size of the California king bed and assured him he wouldn’t disturb my slumber. If anything, he would enhance it.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I started getting frisky. After not getting any the morning before, I was even more geared up for some great sex. We undressed each other and jockeyed for position once again. I wasn’t making the same mistake again. I made sure I was in position to top this time. When I pulled out my night-stand drawer to get a condom and some lube, he made a comment about the large dinner and not sure it was a good idea. I surrendered, and we decided to use alternate methods. He climbed on top and used his hand behind his back. I was impressed with his ingenuity and his willingness to try alternate methods. However, it wasn’t quite enough for me. It felt great, but I couldn’t quite get over the final hump, as is my issue often.
We stopped and just enjoyed each other’s bodies laying next to each other before we both cleaned up and hopped into bed.
When I woke in the morning, I snuck quietly into my bathroom to shower so he could fall back asleep. If he wanted, I was going to let him sleep as long as he wished and just pull the door shut behind him. However, he had a few things he wanted to get to Monday morning, so he joined me on my morning commute.
We casually walked to the PATH and hopped on. When the time came for him to get off, we exchanged a quick kiss. A lot was going through my mind before that. I was a little afraid to do it because I knew all eyes would be on me as soon as he got off. However, I was the one who initiated it. It was subconscious, but I wasn’t going to let fear of others’ reactions rule my actions anymore. I didn’t care who knew I was gay anymore.
I rode the rest of the way to work not making eye contact with others. I wasn’t 100% comfortable in my own skin, but I was still growing with every day. Things were progressing nicely with Smiles, and they could only get better with added confidence.
Follow @onegayatatimeAt 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...
One Gay at a Time 