Posts Tagged Hispanic
Spring Fling
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 8, 2012
SPRING! The first day of Spring finally arrived. We didn’t have a very rough winter, but I was certainly ready for spring. I had no work obligation, so I rang in the new season from the comfort of my bed watching TV.
About 1:00 am, I got a booty call. There was a guy I had been in touch with for over a year and never met. He was a very sexy Hispanic man who it seems swam in the same circle as me. This wasn’t just any random booty call, however. He was over at a friend’s place, and they were looking to have some fun.
They didn’t want to have a threesome in the sense I’d recently been in. They were more looking to watch porn and jerk together with some light fun. Things got particularly uncomfortable when he asked if I party. I am NOT into drugs mixed with sex. It’s not my thing. I was pretty clear about this. I don’t feel comfortable around it at all. I told them if partying was in, I was out. They were fine with that. They didn’t think I was coming, but in the end I agreed to come by.
I quietly snuck out of my apartment and hopped on the motorcycle. I made my way in the chill of the night over to Jersey City where his friend lived. When I got there, I couldn’t figure out where to enter the building. I finally found it when the Hispanic guy came down to meet me. I finally got to meet him in person. He was hot and was an impressive presence. He was well-built and very tall. I shook his hand and rode the elevator up with him.
When we entered the apartment, I was greeted by a gorgeous dog. It was the Hispanic guy’s dog, and he put him in the bedroom so he wouldn’t be a bother. It was a gorgeous apartment. The owner was sprawled on the couch in front of the porn playing on the big screen TV. I was introduced and removed my jacket. I was encouraged to make myself comfortable. All three of us began to strip. I wasn’t attracted to the owner of the apartment at all. He wasn’t attractive, and he had a very distant look in his eyes. He kinda creeped me out. I had my suspicions he had already partied. He had a beer in his hand, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the culprit.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. The three of us laid on the couch watching porn together exciting ourselves. Then the kissing began. I started kissing the hot one while the ugly one started kissing all over my body and began orally pleasuring me. He was constantly going deeper to the point of making himself violently gag. I was petrified he was going to vomit in my lap. I tried to concentrate on the hot one. He was very normal and enjoying himself.
The ugly guy was almost like a dog on me. He kept climbing on me, and I really wanted him to go away. The Hispanic guy kept making comments about him and to him. He, however, wasn’t speaking at all, only grunting. “She’s a big old bottom,” the Hispanic said. I fully understood that by him nudging his hairy a$$ toward me constantly, but I was not interested. He wanted me to penetrate him, but I was not going anywhere near that, even with a condom on. I was cordial to him, but I never purposely engaged him in any way. He kept getting in the way of me enjoying time with the hot one, whimpering by my face waiting to suck on my mouth.
A few times I contemplated leaving. I never did anything I wasn’t comfortable with, but I wasn’t really enjoying myself. Periodically, the porn would freeze to buffer, and the “dog” would have to fix it. It was a nice reprieve from him being all over me.
After some time, the hot one decided it was time for him to head home. He needed to get the real dog back and settle in for the night. If he wasn’t staying, neither was I. I stood and told them I was heading out as well. I started to get dressed. The ugly dog on the couch was confused by all this and still in a haze. The Hispanic guy asked if the other guy could give him a ride home. After some confusion, he agreed. I was very happy I wasn’t in that car. I wasn’t sure he’d be ok to drive. I waited for the other two to finish getting ready and dressed to head out.
The Hispanic with the dog told us he needed to go downstairs to let the dog relieve itself. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being left in the apartment with just him. I stood by the door, and the other guy got ready quickly. We ended up all riding down in the elevator together. When we got downstairs, we all said goodbye. I hopped back on the motorcycle, sped home and hopped in the shower.
When I got back to my apartment, I got a text from the Hispanic guy. “Sorry. I think my friend was into you. I felt kinda out-of-place. LOL.” I responded back after I got out of the shower, “Hey dude. Great body. Seem fun. No offense, but your friend isn’t really my speed. Sorry. Not sure if you had fun with me, but feel free to hit me up sometime.” That’s when I got the full story between the two of them: “Him and I hooked up when we first met and no more after that. Sorry if I came off rude. I had fun with you. Definitely. But, he was trying to have you for himself. I got the hint. He’s my bud, so I was trying not to f*ck it up. I wasn’t sure if you were into him or not. You were kissing each other. Plus I had my pup with me.” I explained to him the confusion: “I was more just letting him play. Didn’t want anyone to feel left out. LOL. I was trying to get more of you ;)” He told me, “I would chill again whenever.” I quickly responded, “Cool dude. You have my number. Anytime. Trying to go on a Grindr diet… Obviously failed tonight.” He finally added, “It’s cool. Had fun. Finish some other time. ;)” With that, I hopped into bed.
I finished myself off and passed out. I didn’t set an alarm since I had nothing to wake up for early in the morning. This post should have been titled I have no willpower. Hopefully the next day I would be able to stick to my new diet.
Follow @onegayatatimeA Colombian Night
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on April 23, 2012
After a very nice date Wednesday, I was pretty happy. It had been a while since I had a good first date. I spent a lot of time having strings of bad first dates or finding guys to simply have fun with and send on their way. Nothing was fulfilling, but for the first time since PR, I was hopeful.
Thursday nights are always my volleyball nights. It’s the one night of the week I get to fulfill my competitive edge and work out some of the frustrations that have built up over the week. I always look forward to it, and I almost always commence the night at my favorite watering hole, McSwiggans.
Before riding home on the motorcycle from volleyball, I checked Grindr to see if I had any messages. A few started flowing in as soon as I opened the application. Where I play volleyball is a hotbed for Hispanic Grindrs and it seems they flock to me like a moth to the flame.
When I got home, I started chatting with one guy who seemed nice enough. When I told him where I lived, he was confused why I showed up so much closer. I explained to him why I was in his neighborhood. He was disappointed to hear I’d already left the area. “We could have grabbed a drink or something.” I told him it wouldn’t have worked out since I had the motorcycle and was disgusting from playing three games.
I did, however, invite him to come to Hoboken and join my friends and I at the bar. I had already texted a few friends and told them to meet me there. Two of my friends were already in the process of getting ready to meet me.
He entertained the idea for a few minutes before finally accepting my offer and dragging his roommate along for the ride. I was going into this arrangement mainly thinking this would be a friendly drink. I made it clear I had friends with me so he wouldn’t think I was asking him out on a date.
I arrived at the bar at the same time my friends did. We grabbed beers and sat at one of the tables. I informed both my friends a guy and his roommate would be coming by to hang out. My male friend looked very leery, but I told him this was just a friendly drink thing. I think he was worried he was basically going to sit through one of my dates. After some time passed, my Hispanic Grindr friend and I started texting. He arrived and was sitting at the bar. I had walked up and ordered right next to him without noticing him there.
I immediately walked over and said hi to him and his roommate and introduced myself. I called my two friends over to introduce them as well.
It wasn’t long before my male friend’s comfort level dropped, and he decided to meet other friends at another bar. My female friend, P, was hitting it off with the guy I met through Grindr. They are both Colombian and were sharing a few stories. The other guys seemed very nice and decently cool. We started with the small talk and then got into more of a discussion. It was nice, but I wasn’t really attracted to this guy at all. This was purely going to be a friendly drink. We talked for at least another hour, and more than a few rounds later, we decided to head out.
He was a really nice guy, and we all left at the same time. P lived uptown and in the direction they were heading to go home, so they offered to give her a ride home. They were parked in the direction of my apartment, so I agreed to walk them to their car at the least before heading home. As we got closer, the convinced me to hop in and let them drop me off. I finally agreed.
When we got to my apartment, it was slightly awkward because I could tell this guy wanted a moment alone with me. Maybe he wanted a kiss out of the night. I don’t know. I reached up and tapped his shoulder and said, “Thanks for coming down here. It was fun. We should connect again sometime soon.” He smiled and agreed. It was my subtle way of letting him down easy without getting his hopes up for a “date.”
Finally, I was making gay friends without overcomplicating things with hookups or sex. I needed to do more of this. I had one local gay friend, and he was all but married with a serious boyfriend, an apartment, a shared dog and a shared car. This was something I looked forward to, but maybe I needed to find a wingman to help me find the right guy first.
Follow @onegayatatimeLate Night Quickie
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on April 11, 2012
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.
Follow @onegayatatimeMiami Vice
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on October 7, 2011
Roughly one block away from my date with Dr. Nice, I began texting another guy I had on standby for a date that evening. I wanted to see if I could use my time wisely and see two guys on my free Friday evening. It would help cut down the roster if they weren’t quality guys. The story I told him was that I was out to dinner with clients, and I would get in touch with him as the dinner was ending.
We found each other a few days earlier, and we agreed to meet in Hell’s Kitchen, but never picked a specific location. As I walked south on 9th Avenue after my first date, I found out he wasn’t far. I told him to head north on 9th Avenue, and we would meet in the middle. We could pick somewhere in the neighborhood to grab a drink.
As I was walking, I realized how bad that idea was. We never met before, and there was a good chance we would walk right past each other. I picked a bar, Nizza, and told him to meet me in front of it.
He walked up with a smile from ear to ear. He was somewhat attractive, and when he opened his mouth, his Latino background was screaming at me. I have nothing against it, but I also don’t have much in common with the typical culture.
We grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a few cocktails. I ordered a Dark and Stormy Float. It was a very interesting drink with the twist of Rum Raisin ice cream. I love Dark and Stormys, but I wasn’t thrilled with this concoction. My date insisted I order something else, but I insisted I would finish it. He enjoyed his drink while we talked about what brought him from Miami to New York. He was working as a producer on a Hispanic television news show, and was looking for a change. He wanted to move to New York and was afforded a job transfer.
It was interesting to learn he was in the city only four months, so he hadn’t yet experienced the changing of the seasons. He wasn’t quite used to the phrase “the end of summer.” As we talked, the conversation began to take shape as me giving him advice on how to adapt to New York City and less about us and any future we may have.
He told me all about being brought up in Miami and how he is going to miss being so close to his family. However, he was thinking about his career and needed to move up in this world. Surprisingly, he was living in New Jersey as well. I knew this bit of information earlier and asked him to meet on the other side of the river, but he explained where he lived and how it would be difficult to meet over there since he had no car.
The date was very pleasant, just as my date earlier that evening, but I wasn’t feeling a spark. When this date ended, I would not have a burning desire to see him again.
We closed our tab, and I agreed to walk him to Port Authority. I was heading there myself to go back to Hoboken for the night. Before he hopped on one of the shuttles, we exchanged hugs. He suggested we find the time to meet up again. I told him we would be in touch and manage to figure something out in the near future.
Of course, he was yet another man who would fall by the wayside due to lack of interest on my part. He was a nice enough guy, but there was nothing there to really draw me in.
It seemed I was back to my old ways of serial unsuccessful dating. I needed my luck to change, or my self-esteem was really going to land in the crapper…
Follow @onegayatatimeExcuse Me Mr. Officer
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 29, 2011
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…
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 