Posts Tagged Hunger Games

Dating The David

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.

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Deep Passionate Love

It had been some time since I got to spend some alone time with Clark Kent. I didn’t see him Monday, but the following day at work, we texted each other constantly counting down the minutes until we’d be together again. I was going to his place after work. I knew he was horny, but I had a long day at work. I was a bit tired and waited to relax and lay around together. That wasn’t the case.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We fooled around in bed for some time before he asked if he could f#ck me. I got into position, and we went at it. Something was different this time. He was going much deeper than usual. This didn’t hurt or provide discomfort. It actually felt good. When we were finished, we hopped in the shower to clean up.

Afterwards, we returned to the bed, and this time, it was my turn. He laid on his stomach with his back arched waiting for me to mount him. It was incredibly hot. The sex this time was a bit different as well. I was going deeper inside him. He expressed his pleasure derived from this and commented on how hard I was the whole time. The sex that night was purely amazing. We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and each other. Our chemistry was right on that night.

The plan was to spend the night in Hoboken. I had a Groupon to use up for a restaurant on the waterfront, Trinity, so we stopped there on the way back to my apartment. The conversation over dinner was great. We were both feeling very casual and catching up on everything we missed being separated over the weekend.

In the middle of one of our conversation I accidentally slipped the phrase “my kid.” I was hoping to gloss over it, and he wouldn’t notice. When I finished my sentence, he inquired, “You want a kid?” I explained that I did, but the timing was still to be determined. I turned the question on him, and he expressed the desire to have a kid. That’s when I told him my plan that would work should we decide to raise a child together. We both had sisters. I proposed that if his sister donated an egg, and my sperm fertilized it, it would be of the blood of both our families. That way, neither would be detached from that child. It would be a part of both of us. The same would work with his sperm and my sister’s egg. It does create the Aunt Mommy problem, but I still think it’s a great idea.

Everything just felt right. This guy was great. My mention of having kids one day didn’t even scare him off. If anything, he said it turned him on. Where did he come from? What did I do to deserve him? He was purely amazing.

When we finished, we walked home to my apartment. We talked about the sex we had earlier that evening. We discussed the deep penetration and how much pleasure we both got out of it. I loved our frank conversations. We could talk about anything.

When we got home, he passed out immediately. I stripped him of his clothes and got him ready for bed. I wasn’t quite ready yet. I had something to say first:

I said, “I have a word that is on the tip of my tongue. I find myself wanting to say it on numerous occasions, but I’m just not sure if I’m ready for it yet. We only know each other for a month, and I’m not trying to rush things, but I just wanted you to know where my head was at. I’m exceptionally fond of you. I love spending time with you. I love being with you. I love getting to know you…”

In a few moments, after dozing off, he woke again. He turned to me and had something to say. He stopped himself short. He wasn’t sure if I’d said something to him or if he dreamed it. He didn’t want to say it aloud in case he did dream it, but I insisted he tell me. I know he was analyzing what I’d said earlier, and I wanted to be sure he heard me.

Sure enough, it was what I’d said before. He asked me if it was real or not real, a line from The Hunger Games. I assured him it was very real. With that, we exchanged a passionate kiss, turned out the light and went to bed.

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Ladies and Gentleman, My Boyfriend

The morning after my “wild night,” I woke early. I was happy to realize I didn’t have a hangover, but I had a lot to do. I sat at my desk and went through circulars to make a grocery list, I went over my to-do list, I cleaned my bedroom, did two loads of laundry and sorted through my clothes to get rid of some of them. It was a very productive morning. The only thing I didn’t get done was to make it to the gym.

Around 11:00am, CK called. I didn’t want to call him because I was afraid of waking him. I knew he wasn’t a morning person. I was happy to hear his voice. He told me he needed to do laundry and wouldn’t come to Hoboken until about 2:00. I was fine with that. It allowed me to finish what I needed to get done for the morning.

I planned to head over to the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival around 2:00. That’s what I told P and my sister. As I was walking out the door, he called to apologize for running late. He was just walking out the door to hop on the PATH. Obviously he wasn’t going to arrive at 2:00. I told him I’d be at the festival, and I would make my way to him when he arrived.

I managed to find P, my sister and her friend without much effort. P had her dog, Baby, with her and needed to find her water. I told them I needed to make my way to the PATH to get CK, and they were welcome to join me. They all followed. We waited at the PATH for some time before he finally arrived. It was close to 3:45 before he finally arrived. He was running late as usual. I happily introduced him to the three of them, and we made our way back to the festival to find lunch.

Before he arrived, I had a worry in the back of my head. We were used to showing affection openly, but not in Hoboken. I still wasn’t out to everyone I knew around town, and I had my reservations about PDA. I was trying to get over it. There was no reason I shouldn’t feel comfortable being myself. But, I can’t lie. I was very nervous.

That being said, I greeted him with a hug, and we spent a large portion of the day holding hands and our arms around each other. This was a first for me. I did relax a bit and began to let my guard down.

We found the steak sandwiches I’ve gotten many years in the past and hopped in line. My old roommate (also my favorite roommate) was making his way toward us, so I told him where we were. I introduce him to CK, and he reminded me I’d met the girl he was with in the past.

As we ate, we walked uptown chatting. He mentioned wanting to do something special for my birthday that Friday. He asked if I’d be able to get out of work early, and I told him it shouldn’t be a problem. All I knew about this surprise was that it would cater to my adventurous side. I thought it was incredibly sweet of him to plan something special for me.

When we reached the north end of the festival, I was ready for dessert. I hadn’t passed anything along the way I really wanted, so I decided to hit up Ralph’s for some cream ice. I ordered the peanut butter cookie dough, and we shared it. It was utterly amazing.

P, my sister, her friend, CK and I were all heading to City Bistro to grab a drink on the rooftop bar since it was such a nice day. We found a seat and relaxed. I could tell one of the guys on the roof was making comments about CK and I, but I didn’t care. I continued resting my hand on his leg or putting my arm around him. I noticed two guy I thought might be gay and informed CK of the “Pickle game” I’d learned from Boston in Miami. We agreed they were gay.

The time came for us to head out. CK wanted to go for a ride on the motorcycle, and I needed to start dinner. We had to stop at ShopRite on the way home for supplies, and it was a bit of a walk home. CK wasn’t happy, but he did it — Not without complaining most of the way.

When we got home, we cuddled in bed for a few minutes before I told him I wanted him to help me with dinner. As I put the beef roast in the oven, I asked him to slice the potatoes for the scalloped potatoes on the mandolin. I warned him quite pointedly to be careful since the blade was so sharp, and I’d already cut myself pretty severely on it once, as did my mother. When he was cutting the last potato, he sliced his finger pretty badly.

I immediately ran to his rescue. He was bleeding pretty bad, but not enough for stitches. He sliced off a small piece of the tip of his thumb. He was now the third person to cut themselves on that mandolin (Him, my mother, and myself). He couldn’t believe how well I was handling the blood. I told him I was a lifeguard for seven years and had my own share of accidents involving a lot of blood. “Awww. Baby, you’re my lifeguard,” he said. I bandaged him up, told him to hold his arm above his head, gave him some painkillers and told him to sit on the couch. Maybe asking him to help was not a good idea. I thought it would be romantic, but it turned out tragic.

When dinner was ready, we ate in front of the TV. He raved about how good dinner was. We watched the shows I normally record on a Sunday night. It was really nice to have him fit so nicely into my routine. That was a sign our relationship had a solid foundation.

When we got tired, we made our way to my bedroom. He must have been really tired, and he kept dozing off. I wanted sex, but it was quite obvious that wasn’t going to happen. It’d been quite some time since we had sex, but I would have to settle for some cuddling instead.

He was out cold, so I brushed my teeth and came back to bed. I must have roused him, because he too got out of bed to brush his teeth. We turned out the light and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It’s rare to find me happier than when I wake up next to him. It’s impossible not to have a smile from ear-to-ear. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. As per usual, he began to give me a bl*wjob. It was one of his favorite morning activities. He told me he wanted me to finish for him. This is an immediate killer for me. I begin to concentrate on that alone. (I really need to see someone about this!) After a while, I told him it was time to shower. I scooped him up and carried him to the shower. He began bl*wing me outside the shower as well. I was too distracted in the bathroom, so I grabbed his hand and led him back to the bed. He felt amazing, and when he began teasing my boys with his tongue, I used my hand to get me over the edge.

“Baby. You taste so sweet today!” he told me. I was a bit shocked to hear this considering N told me I tasted awful. This made me like CK so much more in that moment. Seconds later, he exploded all over his own abdomen. It was incredibly hot to watch.

We went back to the shower and cleaned up. That morning, we joked about water sports. He threatened to pee on me in the shower. I told him if he did, I would certainly be returning the favor. When I saw his warm stream hitting my feet, I delivered on my promise. Both of us immediately got weirded out, and that ended immediately. “Yea. That’s definitely not going to be a thing!” I exclaimed. He nodded his head in sever agreement. Afterwards, I bandaged his finger once again and gave him a band-aid for the road.

We got ready and made our way to the PATH. I had to say goodbye to him in Hoboken to get my allergy shot, and he hopped on the PATH.

Monday, he called me as I was picking out a wedding card at CVS. He wanted to know if I was still in the city so we could meet up for a bit. I’d just gotten off the PATH five minutes prior. He was hopping elevator, so he told me he’d call me when he got up to his apartment, but I didn’t hear back from him.

I sent him a picture message of a t-shirt saying “I would cuddle you so hard.” He didn’t acknowledge the message. When I called later that evening, he seemed weird. He told me he was reading Hunger Games and sounded like I woke him up. The conversation was very short and awkward, so I just said goodnight and went to bed.

We made plans for Tuesday, but work got in the way for him. I proposed getting together Wednesday night at my place for Revenge again instead. I also left work early to pick up my new custom-made bed. I was so excited! I brought it home and assembled it. It was amazing. I sent him pictures, and he responded, “Can’t wait to break it in!” He also asked me if I would be interested in a show at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. I told him that sounded great. Later Tuesday night, I texted him, but got no response until 12:30, just after I dozed off.

The question of fidelity did cross my mind for a hot second. I wondered if we needed to have the exclusivity conversation or was that covered under the can I be your boyfriend conversation? It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but my mind can run wild at times. I was just going to keep it in the back of my mind until I decided whether it was necessary to bring it up…

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Seems Fishy

Clark Kent and I tried to find a way to be together over the week, but it just didn’t seem to work out. We tried Wednesday, but he had to work late on a pitch. Thursday was out because he was supposed to be going to the hospital to visit his friend who just had his hip replaced. He didn’t even get to do that because work had him there late. We settled on spending Friday together once again.

Friday morning when I arrived at work, two of my team members were walking out of the building. I asked them where they were headed, and they told me to check out the shuttle flyover on the Hudson. I had nothing on my plate for the morning, so I joined them. We staked out a spot and waited for the shuttle to arrive. I realized this was something CK would probably love to see, so I texted him asking if he was checking it out. He worked near the Hudson River and could be there within five minutes. He was completely unaware, so I told him to hurry up.

Unfortunately, he missed it, so I sent him pictures. I made my way back to work and got started with another slow day at the office. I spent a better portion of the afternoon working on the blog to get things squared away for the rest of the Friday releases.

In the middle of the afternoon, CK texted me. “How’s your day going baby?” I told him it was great. “I scoped out the shuttle, and now I’m out to lunch with one of our old interns and the rest of my team. I also have some fun news to share with you.” I learned that morning; one of the girls from my team was going to work at his agency. I couldn’t wait to tell him since she was one of my favorite coworkers. “I could use some fun news,” he added. I replied and told him I was “so excited to see you!”

He replied, “Me tooooooooo. Can’t wait :). What do you wanna do tonight baby? I’m home. Left office early. Gonna go with [his friend] to see [his other friend] in Brooklyn. Can we please do something free/cheap, yet priceless/memorable? That’s the sweet spot I’d like to hit. Well, one of the sweet spots… and by no means the sweetest ;).”

I quickly responded, “Yes. Glad to hear you get to go see him! How bout movie/Revenge night on the couch? You can come to my city oasis. Popcorn, wine, ice cream…” He immediately shot back, “#purrrrrrrrfection. You have no idea how happy you just made me =].” And to add the icing on the cake, I told him, “And, I didn’t shave for you today.” He loved when I had stubble. He liked the way it felt against his skin and liked how I looked with scruff.

When he finished at the hospital and was walking to the subway, he called me. He spent more time there than he expected. His friend was released and they took him home to get him settled in. He needed to go home and freshen up, and then he’d make his way to me.

I’d been sitting around since 6:00 waiting for him to arrive. I prepped the fillet mignons and the chicken for the grill, peeled the carrots and put them in a pot, and I even baked a pineapple upside down cake. After that, I laid on the couch waiting for his call in my motorcycle gear. Around 10:15, I finally got a text from him. Apparently he wasn’t paying attention and rode the PATH back into the city to 33rd street. He was so engulfed in his book, he completely missed the stop.

I was slightly annoyed because I didn’t fully buy his story. The PATH doesn’t simply arrive at Hoboken and turn right back around. It sits there for at least a good ten minutes without moving. He was obviously doing something else before coming over. At 9:45, he tweeted, “I saw the movie before starting the book, and I gotta say, the adaptation translates incredibly well.” He was referring to the Hunger Games he was reading. He was supposed to be in Hoboken at 9:30. How was he tweeting from under the Hudson River? Sure, I was stalking him a little, but I was always waiting for him. I was trying to figure out where he was. He wasn’t aware I was checking out his Twitter account, and I wanted to keep it that way. If he was going to cut me off from Grindr access (he blocked me), maybe I could find another way to check in periodically. (Yes, I’m aware how psycho I sound!)

Finally, he made it. I arrived minutes after him to scoop him up on the motorcycle. No longer would we be taking the long way home. I was slightly annoyed and starving! I hadn’t even begun to cook yet.

When we parked the bike, I tore my helmet off and planted a big kiss on him. We continued to kiss on the street a few minutes before I persuaded him to come upstairs so I could work on dinner. I took everything to the grill and began to cook it while we lay in bed making out. When I started to strip his clothes off, he asked, “We’re going to have sex before we eat?” I explained things needed a little time to cook. “Not sex, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fool around first,” I added. With that I pounced right back on top of his naked body.

In the middle of making out I realized I needed to tend to the grill. I sprang out of bed, threw on a pair of shorts and ran outside. I caught it just in time before becoming a charred disaster. I gave CK a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to wear. We made our way to the kitchen and filled out plates. We sat on the couch and ate off the coffee table while we started Revenge. We’d already both seen it, but I was in the process of delofting my bed while doing so. Some of the show would still be fresh to me.

We spent the remainder of the night on the couch in front of the TV in each other’s embrace while the rest of my roommates and their friends prepared for a night on the town. It was such a nice change when they all vacated the apartment. We started to fool around a little on the couch, and eventually we made our way back to my bedroom, where some of the fun just began.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started slow, but things quickly progressed. Before long, I was penetrating him. He was incredibly loud and the window was open. I was expecting to hear one of the neighbors yell out. I was also afraid my roommate or her friend who was sleeping over would wake up. His moaning could have woken the building up. I was happy to learn the bed was holding up quite well and not making a ruckus this time. When he needed a break, the make out session resumed. Then things flipped and I found myself on my back with my legs in the air. Before long, he got excited and finished on my chest. I cleaned up, and we lay there a bit in each other’s embrace. “I really want you to shoot all over me like that,” he said. That was all it took. That psyched me out enough that all I could concentrate on was finishing. It was sure not to happen. After long, we were spooning. “Should I turn out the light?” he asked. With that, we dozed off intertwined like a pile of TV cables.

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Superman Returns

Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.

I barely knew him, but I could already tell we were quite a match. On top of that, we weren’t even done the first date before he planned to see me again. It was his suggestion for us to catch The Hunger Games Saturday morning while we had breakfast.

I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.

I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.

He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!

We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.

We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.

We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!

When the movie was over, we made our way to the street and discussed the film while we walked. This was his second time seeing the movie. He expressed interest in reading the book, and I strongly encourage him to. I was already part of the way through the second book in the series of three.

We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.

When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.

He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.

We stopped by Pinkberry on the way back to his rooftop as per his request. We ordered ice cream and shared spoonfuls with each other as we walked up the street. When we got back to his place, we headed straight to the roof.

We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.

After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.

Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”

Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.

I told him it was a very long time for me since any guy had been inside me. I told him he’d have to go VERY slow. He began to slide in when I gripped his leg and implored him to stop. He told me to relax and just hold it there, but I insisted he pull out. I needed a break before we could continue. I know he thought it would be better if he simply held it there, but I was being painfully stretched. He wasn’t exactly a small guy — Quite the opposite. He pulled out, and I could see the disappointment on his face. He thought that was it, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I just needed a second to relax again. He began kissing me in a caring way. It was as if it was his way of saying, “I never want to hurt you again.” When I regain composure, I directed him to begin again. Delight spread across his face at this news.

This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.

He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.

We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?

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Never-Ending Date

I’d begun an amazing date with a spectacular man, and I couldn’t wait for what was to come next. Although I had been to Frankies 570 multiple times before with multiple dates, this time was special. I had an amazing guy to share a meal with. Ironically, my meal from days prior was so good, I ordered the same the again.

Conversation over dinner we great. It flowed like water downhill. We were both very flirtatious and chatty. On many of my other dates, there were long awkward pauses, but not on this one. Everything was just so easy. When I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, he leaned in requesting a kiss first. It was incredibly sweet and adorable. I really liked this guy. He was everything I was looking for.

I was just taking extra care to make sure I didn’t get ahead of myself. I had a history of falling for guys who would hurt me or not be interested in pursuing anything further. While in the restroom, I looked in the mirror to keep myself centered. All I could do was smile at my reflection like a giddy schoolgirl.

When I returned to the table, the conversation picked back up where we left off. My hand was on his leg under the table. His body language was very positive.

Our meals came, and we shared them with each other. Both of us were very happy with our selections. When the meal ended, we agreed to order a dessert to share. We got the crème-brulee. I dug my spoon into it and fed him a spoonful. It felt incredibly romantic. He smiled as his mouth closed around the spoon. We finished dessert and began to chat about what to do next. He was dancing around what I can only assume were his true motives. He said, “We can go have more drinks.” I interjected, “I don’t want to drink anymore.” “We can drop our bags at my place and go out. We could grab Pinkberry…” he added. I cut him off at the pass saying, “You can stop dancing around it. We can go back to your place.” He immediately smiled and agreed that was the best idea.

I wasn’t thinking we were going back to his place for sex. I knew there would be making out and a lot of heavy petting, but I wasn’t planning to give it up that easily. We hopped in a cab back to his apartment. He asked if I wanted to go to the roof, and I told him I would default to him. We were on his home turf. He could run the show. I picked the bar and restaurant. It was his turn to drive. Before we got to his place, he warned me of the condition of it. He informed me he lived like a frat boy.

When we got to his place, we stopped in his apartment on our way to the roof. I didn’t think he was as bad as he let on. We began making out on the bed. This, of course, led to many other things. Slowly but surely, clothes started landing on the floor in scattered piles. Eventually, we fond ourselves naked and engaging in a myriad of sexual acts, but penetration would never occur.

He was a very passionate man. I have found it nearly impossible to find a man whose intellect, wit and sense of adventure outside the bedroom matched their passion in the bedroom. He was a diamond in the rough. I wasn’t going to let this one go without a fight.

I noticed he was very into music. It was like he needed a soundtrack. I liked it. Every minute I was learning something new about him, and it was all making me like him even more.

We never made it to the roof. We ended up passing out on top of each other’s naked body. In the middle of the night, we both woke up. It was around 2:00. He offered for me to stay. I was under the impression that was already happening. I assumed I would just stay the night. We cuddled some more, and he turned out the lights.

When we woke in the morning, things weren’t awkward at all. I felt very comfortable with him. We talked about how we didn’t have sex and how that made us both happy. We didn’t need to rush things. I mean, I was spending the night on a first date, but I was happy true sex didn’t occur. I was also thrilled he was the type of guy who would just bring that up and not keep it inside for fear of saying the wrong thing. He spoke his mind. I needed to get back to that. Being with him might help me get back to that.

He was amazing. There was no question about it. We were both starving and decided to get dressed to hunt for some breakfast. We stopped by a few places before finally settling on Jimmy’s American Grill and Bar. We grabbed a table outside and picked up the conversation where we left off the previous night.

I let my freak flag fly. I felt so free with him. I told him all about me and my idiosyncrasies. I explained my Christmas Bash and all the work I put into it. He referred to me as Martha Stewart, and I expressed my hatred for that referral. I didn’t like that my cooking and entertaining had a feminine connotation. I told him I was more the Nate Berkus type. He laughed and agreed it was a better reference. I told him about my crazy coworkers and how we would make an amazing reality show. I told him about growing up on a farm. Everything I could think of, I brought out. He loved it all! I learned about where he grew up and his career in advertising. Every word made me like him more and more. He also told me about his friends. They texted him while we were eating to ask him to come to brunch 2.0.

Somehow, we got on the topic of The Hunger Games. I was reading the books, and he had already seen the movie. I told him I was looking forward to seeing the movie. He told me he would go see it again and asked if we could go see it Sunday. You could have knocked me over with a feather. He was already planning date number two before date number one concluded. I was thrilled and immediately accepted.

He walked me to the PATH to say goodbye before heading downtown to meet his friends at Elmo. We kissed each other goodbye and gave a long lasting hug. There was a homeless man panhandling next to us who said, “Get a room,” through a smile. He began laughing, and I started to crack up since I was the one facing him. I said to my amazing date, “That made my day.” Immediately, he replied, “You made my day.” I was in heaven. I said goodbye and went down the stairs to the train.

Later, I learned from checking his Twitter that when he checked in at dinner on Foursquare, he wrote, “Easy conversation + tasty food + hot boy = great date on a Fri night (@ Frankies 570 w/ 2 others)” and the next day at brunch, “When last night’s date becomes this afternoon’s brunch date (@ Jimmy’s American Grill & Bar). He really did like me. I was just finding it hard to take. It was like a dream. I couldn’t really believe it. I didn’t want to get too excited because I didn’t want to get hurt. But, honestly, who gives a f*ck. I was happy, and that was all I cared about.

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