Posts Tagged issue
Preparing to get ready for the Scissor Sisters concert was a sh*t show and a half. This was twice now CK and I fought before going to an event. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever be able to go to these kinds of events without it turning into a fight. I had finally grown more comfortable with the crowds at these events, but I was growing uncomfortable with the idea of going with CK to them. Living up to what I thought were CK’s expectations was a lot of pressure to deal with.
CK and Hip were ready, but the tickets were nowhere to be found. After quite some time, Hip managed to find the tickets behind the couch. It seemed like he happened to know where they were in a moment of clarity. At this point, we quickly made our way out of the apartment to see if we could salvage what was left of the concert. Like the flip of a switch, CK began apologizing to me and asked me to come along and be happy. His main concern was getting to the concert, not whether or not we were okay. It was incredibly selfish, and it hurt a lot. We quickly hustled the ten blocks to the venue, but I skulked behind a few paces every turn we made. I was really hurting deep inside. Things weren’t going very well between us the way it was, but this took things to a new level. I wasn’t saying anything. I was in shock about what had transpired. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what I was still doing there.
I’m not good at putting on a smile and bearing down. I may have been present physically, but mentally, I was in a whole other world.
When we got to the doors at Terminal 5, a large mass of people were walking out the door. CK cut through the crowds heading in the exit only to find the concert had ended. Everyone was leaving. I stood on the street with my arms crossed because I knew there was no hope. I also wasn’t about to chase CK through a mass of people. When CK finally realized all hope was lost, his anger returned. Hip continued to apologize over and over again, but CK wanted none of it. I wasn’t upset in the slightest because I was in no mood to go to a concert. The three of us managed to find each other, and we all agreed we were starving.
I was pretty wasted, and we stumbled back towards his apartment searching for somewhere to grab food. We didn’t pass anything along the way, and CK mentioned getting take-out delivered. When we got back to his place, I hopped into bed immediately. I was hungry, but more importantly, I was drunk and upset. I wanted to go to bed to escape what was going on around me. I fell asleep in CK’s bed still fully clothed.
I woke the next morning to the sound of Hip knocking on CK’s door. Originally, we planned to go to the cloisters in north Manhattan, but those plans would never come to fruition. For some ungodly reason, Hip was wide awake with lots of energy. I, on the other hand, was incredibly hung over. Everything was too bright, too loud and too real. I just wanted to go back to bed and sleep off my hangover. Hip sat on the foot of the bed talking about the night before and asking a lot of questions. Apparently, he had even more to drink than I did. He kept asking if we actually ever made it to the concert, and this was really the last thing CK wanted to hear. Every time he brought up the previous night, it made CK grow more and more frustrated.
At one point, Hip excused himself to use the restroom. CK and I took the opportunity to chat while he was absent. I was still quite upset, but I wasn’t going to make a scene. This was the perfect opportunity to talk. I brought up everything from the night before and explained how none of it was okay. I point blank asked him what Hip handed him the night before. He responded, “I have no clue what you’re even talking about.” When I pushed the issue, he denied any recollection of it emphatically. After my suspicions and insinuations, he detailed how the only substances he partook in the previous night was alcohol. Based on his reaction and emphatic response, I believed him. I was not okay with how he acted or how he treated my, but I did believe him. I put my worries aside and took his word for it. I had no reason not to believe him. After our previous conversations on the subject, I wondered if maybe I had finally gotten through to him.
I told him if he ever lays a hand on me like that again, we’re done. He didn’t hurt me physically, and I did loved him. But, this was not something I would tolerate. The next time, I was actually walking out the door, and I was never coming back. I made sure he understood how serious I was about this. I wasn’t afraid for my own safety. I was more afraid for both of us. I didn’t know what would happen if things escalated out of control because we both had short tempers. I stressed this point numerous times. Again, he apologized emphatically. I could see his apology was genuine, and I accepted it. He loved me, and I could see it pained him to know how much he hurt me. He apologized for everything and I forgave him for everything. “Forgiven, but not forgotten. We will not go through this again,” I added.
We literally kissed and made up, but things didn’t stop there. He was very sweet in his remorse. Apparently, he was feeling a bit frisky. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started to make out, and when I pointed out Hip just on the other side of the bathroom door, he didn’t stop. As per usual, I woke in the morning raring to go, and CK took advantage of this. We were making out and my hands were exploring his entire body under the comforter. He was straddling me, and he reached down with his hand and sat on top of me. It was incredibly hot, but I was still a little self-conscious about the whole thing.
Just as I predicted, Hip emerged from the bathroom with CK still straddling me. I didn’t know what to do, but we didn’t immediately separate either. We both turned our gazes to meet his with a guilty look upon our faces. He knew exactly what was happening, but he went about his business accordingly. We all laughed at the situation as I slowly removed myself from CK. It was necessary to break the tension in the room.
We continued to lay around for a majority of the morning chatting and relaxing. Before Hip got back into the previous night, CK pleaded, “Can we talk about anything other than last night please?” After some time, we were finally able to motivate ourselves to get out of bed and face the day…
Another Fourth of July, and another night of disappointment. I’d gone to bed that night contemplating my relationship. Was I strong enough to continue to deal with this? I looked to the future and ran numerous scenarios in my head. I asked myself, “Is this worth it? Should I get off this train now before it’s a complete train-wreck?”
When we woke in the morning, we discussed what happened the night before. CK apologized. He told me he didn’t know I was so black and white on the issue. That’s when I laid it all out for him. It was not okay nor would it ever be okay. We’d had this discussion before, and I wasn’t going to continue to have it anymore. I made it clear: I wasn’t going to stand by on the issue. He had a choice to make. He took that to heart and told me he would do whatever it takes. “I love you with all my heart, and I will do anything to keep you in my life,” he added.
It appeared we were finally on the same page, and we both went to work. I had a half day at the office, so when I finished, I went home and hit up the gym. I was finally getting back into the swing of things. I’d injured my shoulder lifting in the gym months prior, so it was difficult to motivate myself to continue going when I wasn’t able to lift to my full potential. When I hopped in the pool, I was able to get back into shape with low impact on my shoulder. This was my way to finally get back in shape while my shoulder healed.
When I finished at the gym, I went home and packed a bag to head back into the city. CK, Hip and I were all going to see Scissor Sisters in concert that night. After the argument getting ready for Matinee, I asked CK ahead of time to help me come up with an outfit to wear. I didn’t want this to turn into another fight. It worked out much better this time because I was able to pack my bag with confidence. I wasn’t nearly as self-conscious as I was last time. When I was ready, I hopped on my motorcycle and made my way to Hell’s Kitchen.
When I arrived, CK and Hip were prepping a pitcher with drinks to head to the roof to share a cocktail. They both seemed a little loopy, like they’d been drinking for quite some time. We grabbed the pitcher and made our way upstairs to watch the sunset. Within a half hour, we polished off the entire pitcher. When we ran out, we made our way back downstairs. I was in a drinking mood, so Hip and I ran out to get more libations while CK hopped in the shower. We came back and mixed up another pitcher. I sat on the bed with Hip watching while CK tried on about twenty outfits and permutations of accessories.
As I watched CK while we listened to music, something about him didn’t quite to add up. He wasn’t being himself. I grew suspicious and my attention was hypersensitive. I was noticing everything. Hip put on Cedric Gervais’ Molly. The song continued asking me if I can help her find “Molly,” and I began to wonder if the two of them had already found her. When Hip handed CK something small, and he placed it in a box on his nightstand, I grew even more suspicious. Who knows what it was, but everything wasn’t adding up in my mind. Nothing I saw was concrete. But, I still couldn’t shake the notion something was up. I felt it in my gut. Were promises being broken already?
We continued getting ready for a few hours. This was all new to me. I never went to concerts and got ready with friends. I was just taking it all in. That’s when CK insisted I change my clothes. He wanted me to join in. I told him I was already wearing my outfit, but he wasn’t satisfied. He insisted I try on his jeans instead of my own. He felt they were more suitable, and I was embarrassed. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I protested, but he continued to insist I at least try on his jeans. When I couldn’t get them past my thighs I pulled them off and put a stop to the whole conversation. I was already on edge with my suspicions. I insisted I was going to continue to be myself. I had my own individuality, and I didn’t need to compromise that for him. “Are you embarrassed by me? I’m not just some Ken doll you can play dress up with,” I protested. I got dressed again and made my way to the living room. He successfully put me in a bad mood, and I was really tempted to tell him to go without me. I wasn’t looking forward to this concert at all.
I sat in the living room while they continued to get ready in the bedroom. Time was passing quickly, and it was getting later and later. I was continuing to refill my glass while I waited. I figured if I was in a bad mood, at least I could get a little drunk to put me in the proper state of intoxication for a concert. When they finally decided on an outfit and realized it was past time to go, they couldn’t locate the tickets.
I made an effort to look for the tickets with them. CK insisted he left them in a specific spot, but they were no longer there. I remembered seeing them in that spot, so it was obvious someone moved them. After being accused of moving them numerous times by CK, only to respond declaring my innocence, I decided to stop looking. I sat back and watched the frenzy. This was not my problem. I never touched the tickets, let alone having them in my possession. I didn’t even want to go to the concert at this point. First CK was insensitive about my attire, and then he insinuated I lost the tickets he misplaced.
As time passed, CK got more and more agitated to the point he started throwing things around his bedroom. His accusations became more and more pinpointed on Hip and I. He was taking no responsibility for misplacing the tickets that were in his possession. As his frustration level rose, so too did mine. I wasn’t going to stand there and take his verbal abuse when I was 100% sure of my innocence. It was clear he was intoxicated, and I wanted nothing to do with this situation. It was time for me to go home. I began to gather my things to leave when the situation got physical.
When he started to get aggressive, Hip intervened at my request because I wasn’t going to get into a shoving match. I had my fill. I wasn’t going to fight with an irrational man. I was just going to leave.
As I made my way to the door while CK got in my face and shouted hurtful things at me, Hip separated us, pulled me aside and managed to convince me to stay, but after all that, I was done. Against my better judgment, I stayed. I sat on the couch and waited for someone to find the tickets. I was in for a miserable night. Regardless of what was to come, I chalked the night up to a complete failure…
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 @onegayatatime
Today, I am bringing you a tag team post created for you by myself and another one of my faithful Australian readers, J. Argenta. I hope you enjoy.
Recently, I posted about Bonobos. As a result, one of my readers, J. visited the site and did a little shopping.
“I’m one of his avid readers and couldn’t help but check out the Bonobos site after he spoke so highly of it! I found some great stuff on there, but when I got to the checkout and it was $91 to get stuff shipped to Australia! — More than the pair of pants I was going to get. I was basically a stranger and hoped what I was about to ask wasn’t too strange, but I asked if he wouldn’t mind placing the order for me and sending it over for me? I offered to transfer you the money to cover it all and do so before he placed the order. I just don’t happen to know anyone in America and figured the shipping would be cheaper this way. I knew it was a long shot, but I hoped he would be comfortable with this.” – J. Argenta
This posed many challenges. I wanted to help him out. I was totally game to do whatever I needed to do, but this would certainly force me to give up anonymity. He would need to know my name and address to mail me payment. I didn’t feel comfortable breaking down the fourth wall.
I thought about how else I could help. I knew as a blogger, I had a certain level of power. I could reach out to the Bonobos PR team and see if there was anything they could do. I sent them an email:
Hey there Bonobos PR team.
I am one of your biggest fans (I bought the Shortboards – Lapis Lazuli and ABSOLUTELY love them! and have since bought some pants and hats because I love how everything fits me well. I digress) I have an odd request to make. I am a blogger. My blog mainly (but not limited to) attracts a specific audience, but one that fits well with the Bonobos brand — the gay community. You can check out my daily blog at onegayatatime.com. That being said, I love Bonobos products and am not shy about telling my readers about this. In one of my posts, I mentioned your brand and how much I enjoy it. Afterwards, I received an odd email from one of my readers in regards to your products.
[I attached his original email].
I’m not 100% comfortable making this transaction for him, but I was hoping maybe by reaching out to him I could help him solve his high-priced shipping problem. I told him I would reach out to you and see what you could do for him. I work in media, so I know the value of word-of-mouth. You can expect me to continue to speak positively about your products in my blog and can be assured I will make special note if you find a viable solution for my reader. Thanks for your assistance with this issue.
I look forward to hearing from you!
I was CC’d on an email to the Ninjas who take care of this, and they replied back, “Done. Thanks.” I was surprised how brief the response was, but I decided to wait and see what they sent to J. Argenta. I also asked them to keep me up-to-date with what they were doing so I could share the positive story. I got an email in response:
Sure no problem. Sorry about the curt email. Your message was forwarded to us from the PR team so I though I was giving her a direct reply. My apologies if that came off as short. I can definitely keep you updated. I didn’t know your friend/fan’s name but I shot him an email outlining our international shipment options (we actually pay for outgoing shipments but have to do it manually due to shipping negotiations and site shortcomings).
Thanks for reaching out on this.
“I told O.G.A.A.T. they offer free international shipping, but because of ‘how the young program is and various logistic negotiations/planning/tweaking,’ Bonobos covers the cost of shipping manually in the form of store credit. Nick also said I would have to cover customs charges, but I’ve never had to do this with other international orders from other sites. I’m not sure if other sites maybe cover this cost or just include it in their selling price.” — J. Argenta
I emailed the Ninjas again and told them the issue:
Because of this, I think you may be losing a sale and a customer, and I am disappointed in how this problem is being handled. I was hoping to report a viable solution on my blog with a happy story of great customer service to match a great product, but as of now I can’t do that. A store credit of $91 doesn’t sound like a viable solution to me. The problem would just represent itself when he attempts to apply said store credit. I would hope you would further investigate this issue or possibly escalate it to a higher level. I look forward to hearing a happy ending to this story.
Thanks for your help!
This is when Nick really went above and beyond to clarify the situation and make sure he had a satisfied customer. He quickly sent me a reply:
Let me start off by saying that I don’t think your friend will have to pay duties. Sorry about the confusion here. I think maybe there was a miscommunication on our part. Basically the deal with customs is that we (or any company/site/vendor) have no control over duties and customs charges. These are determined solely by the host countries and reimbursing recipients for customs/duties is a legal ‘iffy’ area.
[He then went into detail on international shipping and customs policies, as well as breaking out costs and examples].So basically our feeling was since we lack the ability to predict or control customs costs in other countries we would make it up to the customer by not charging them for international shipping a la the store credit option. I think the confusion here might have been due to when and how the store credit is applied.
The idea was that the most viable way of compensating for our systems/logistics shortfall was to offer a free shipping service until we could finalize a partnership with an international shipper.
Sorry for the long-winded email, I just wanted to make sure I was specifically answering your concerns in regards to, “The problem would just represent itself when he attempts to apply said store credit,” since the store credit actually resolves the problem of shipping costs, not make it worse.
I know it’s a bit of hassle if you’re an international customer which is why we really do try to do as much as we can at the moment given the resources available to us. It’s a big headache on our end as well as we would love to develop an international customer base (pants = the universal language). It’s just proven to be a much bigger bag of worms than anticipated and therefore has been much slower going in terms of negotiating with a shipping agent.
The short answer for your friend is that he will only pay for his clothes, we will cover shipping, and as far as I can tell he won’t have to pay for duties (though again, my knowledge of Australian customs law is cursory at best). The only catch is that he has to shoot us a quick email or give us a call so that we can drop the credit to cover shipping into his account.
If you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to shoot us another email or give us any feedback. I always love talking shop.
All the best.
I was duly impressed, and I let him know:
Hey dude. Thanks for the explanation. I indeed appreciate the long-winded email. You know your sh*t. I also appreciate the time it took to write and explain. I’ve passed along the info to my reader. I will continue to give nothing but rave reviews going forward of Bonobos and will not the extra effort you made to make a customer (and myself) happy.
He replied once more:
No problem dude. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. We’re definitely a little behind the eight ball when it comes to international shipping so your (and your friend’s concerns) were well founded and we appreciate you keeping us honest. We’ll be in touch and feel free to give us a holler any time you have a question.
I relayed this information to J. Argenta to make sure he knew how this would go down.
“I finally understood what they were talking about. It all sounded good! All this for a pair of pants! But, I thanked O.G.A.A.T. for being so persistent and placed my order. It’s nice to know there are people out there willing to help out a stranger in need (of some new pants).” — J. Argenta
I was happy to hear the transaction come to a positive outcome. I am happy to bring the story to you and highlight Bonobos customer service on this issue. They once again proved they are a company with not only top notch products but also top notch service. They really went above and beyond to help an Ozzy out who needed a pair of pants…
I’m Jason by the way. I live in Australia, obviously! Hello! I’ve got a blog as well — Not one that I advertise much at all, but I’ve sort of been branching out a bit with it lately. Not sure if it would be your type of thing — It’s a bit random really, just about everyday goings-on, and things that I find interesting like racism and gay-related things. I wrote my own little gay life story a few posts ago after coming across so many gay-related blogs. Anywho, check it out if you like — jaargenta.blogspot.com – and I’ll look forward to hearing from you!Follow @onegayatatime
When Smiles and I spoke on the phone Sunday night on his way home from a party in Connecticut, I asked him to come to my apartment for a special dinner Monday night. He told me he had to work, but he was going to leave early and we’d just eat a little later. I told him this was perfect since it would take some time to cook the roast after work.
I’d told Smiles about my standing rib roast before, and he didn’t quite get what it was. I explained to him the similarity of it what one might be served at a carving station at a wedding reception. He got a clearer picture, but it still wasn’t crystal clear.
I had a rib roast in my freezer with our name on it. I finally had a chance to cook it for us, and he was on-board. I was excited. It was a plan.
Monday morning, before work, I took the roast out of the freezer to thaw for that night. I planned out the accoutrements as well. I was very excited for our romantic night. It’d been a while since we spent time together. I wanted a night of beef, wine, couch, and bed. The thought sounded spectacular to me!
What excited me even more was the idea of my sanity back. I planned to ask Smiles that night where we stood. I didn’t need a title. I didn’t need to be his boyfriend. I just wanted to know where his head was at.
Much to my chagrin, at 1:00 that afternoon, Smiles sent me a text with some bad news. “Looks like I have people coming tonight so I’m not going to be able to sneak out. I don’t think dinner at 11:00 would be the bet. Do you want to have an early dinner here in the city before he show?” Very disappointed, I agreed with a “Sure.”
I was p*ssed. It wasn’t his fault, but I was a little crushed since I was taking so much care to plan out the evening, and it all went to sh*t. He suggested we do it another night, but came up with a consolation prize. He suggested I come over to his apartment for dinner instead before the screening. I begrudgingly agreed to the idea since it’d been so long since I’d seen him, and I sent my roommate a text asking him to put the roast back in the freezer.
When I finished work, I made my way downtown to his apartment. When I arrived, I was shocked to be received with a nice big kiss. Maybe he missed me. Maybe I wasn’t just a seat warmer in this relationship. There was actually emotion behind that kiss. I was happy.
I was a little anxious because I was still planning to ask him where we stood that evening.
He told me he had food in the fridge to make and suggested we cook that instead of going out for dinner. He preferred that since he wasn’t feeling well, and he was exhausted. It made no difference to me. Asking him my question in the privacy of his apartment sounded like such a better idea than in a restaurant anyway.
I ended up cooking the pork chops and asparagus for the two of us since Smiles wasn’t quite himself. We sat and ate — Him at his computer chair working while he ate and me on the couch. Not nearly the romantic meal I planned for the evening. When we finished, I helped him clean up and put the leftovers away. He started getting ready for the rest of his night, and we talked about my plans. He asked if I was planning to spend the night. “Well, I guess the first question I should ask is if you were planning to come to the screening tonight,” he added.
This was the first I was hearing this. I was quite open to the idea, but I told him, “I have nothing for work tomorrow. You were supposed to be coming out to Hoboken, remember.” “Right,” he responded. I reminded him I’d seen the movie twice now, but if he wanted company, I would come with him. I asked if he actually watches the movie, or if he does other things during the film. He told me he usually watches most of it. Things remained unsettled as he made his way over to the couch to take a quick nap on me.
That was my opportunity to ask him my burning question. Every moment I tried to open my mouth, I froze. Nothing would come out. I was suddenly transported back to when I sat on the couch trying to tell my parents I was gay. The anxiety was making my heart pound out of my chest. I tried over and over to ask him, but I couldn’t muster the courage. I’m not sure what I was afraid of, but it was driving me insane.
After a half hour of this, it was time for him to get up. I asked him if he wanted me to sleep over, or did he want to get some rest alone. We made a final decision. It was better he get some uninterrupted rest that night since he was so exhausted as much as I wanted to spend the night with him. He told me, “It’s very sweet of you to offer to see the film again to spend the night with me.” I liked hearing that. He recognized the sacrifice I was willing to make to spend time with him.
With that, I said goodbye, and he made his way to the screening while I made my way to the PATH — Without my answer.
I was so p*ssed at myself for getting so worked up about a stupid question. What was wrong with me?! Obviously, I needed someone to talk to. I tried Boston, my therapist. I needed him to talk me off the ledge and help me make sense of the situation. I couldn’t do it on my own. We talked it over for over a half hour and he convinced me I had no choice but to blatantly ask him where we stood. We even helped me nail down the phrasing.
When I got to the other side of the tunnel in Hoboken, I got a text from Smiles telling me he was on his way home. His friends never showed. My blood was boiling. We cancelled our dinner plans for NOTHING. I still had no closure on where I stood with Smiles. It certainly was going to be a toss-n-turn kinda night…
And, like any morning I wake up next to a sexy man after a solid night’s sleep, I was ready for sex. Smiles, however, was not. I didn’t want to wake him, so I snuck out to the kitchen to brew coffee and make breakfast.
Shortly thereafter, Smiles joined me in the kitchen. He came up behind me while I was making eggs and sausage, wrapped his arms around me and planted a kiss on my neck. Now, this is how I like to spend my morning. He grabbed a stool and sat at the counter while I finished preparing breakfast. He detailed for me his back pain, so I did my best to massage it out. It was no use. The knot was huge and not going anywhere anytime soon. Smiles called his energy specialist and made an appointment for that afternoon.
After we finished breakfast, we hopped on my bike and made our way into the city. We were in a bit of a rush to get him to his appointment on time. I dropped him in front of the building and told him I’d join shortly. I was going to poke around the shops in Limelight since I’d never been. He looked a little disappointed I wasn’t coming up, so I made it a point not to dawdle in the shops. I walked up to the “office” and entered the door. I had no idea what to expect since I did not utilize these types of services. I barely even go to a regular physician.
When I walked in, an attractive man who I can only compare to Matthew McConaughey by the way he was dressed greeted me as I explained I was there with Smiles. He invited me into a room with six massage tables occupied by people of all ages and types. I sat on the couch while Smiles had his energy “fixed” watching this man work his magic. He took the time to explain and demonstrate things to me while he worked. I feel he felt the need to prove something to me as a skeptic.
When Smiles finished, he joined me on the couch. I have to admit, while a skeptic, I felt the knot before his energy session, and I also felt the absence of a knot after. It was impressive. When he composed himself, we got ready to leave. The specialist said to Smiles, “You didn’t tell me you were dating Ed Norton.” I know it was meant as a compliment, but I wasn’t sure if I saw it as one. Regardless, I smiled and said goodbye.
We hopped back on the motorcycle and made our way to Smiles’ apartment. He needed to shower before continuing with his day, so I sat on the couch waiting for him.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When he was done, he walked towards me in a towel, and I took the opportunity to seduce him. I grabbed the towel and pulled him closer. The towel almost fell off, but instead just exposed his manhood to me while we kissed passionately. I took hold of his exposed member and began to pleasure him.
He backed away and said, “C’mon,” as he walked to the bedroom. He stripped off my clothes, and we hopped into bed. We were FINALLY having sex again. We rolled around between the sheets until he found his way on his back. Not only were we finally having sex, but I got to top again. With his legs on my shoulders, I told him I wanted to see him finish because I knew it was something that usually excited me enough to get me off.
Of course, this wasn’t the case once again for me. He expressed his desire to make me cum. At that moment, I knew it was going to be nearly impossible for me to finish. We talked shortly about the issue. I assured him it was through no fault of his own. I laid next to him and attempted to finish myself off, but I couldn’t conquer the pressure. After what felt like five minutes, I gave up and apologized.
Smiles rinsed off in the shower, and I followed shortly after. While he was in the shower, I tried to see if I was able to climax without him in the room. I wasn’t successful. But, while in the shower, I filed through my mental spank bank and was able to climax. I never told Smiles about that out of embarrassment and the struggle to figure out what was preventing me from fully enjoying sex.
I was still trying to get over the shame of my embarrassing moment while still trying to enjoy the fact we had good sex after a dry spell. I got dressed, and we discussed our plan for the day. We were heading out to Brooklyn to run some errands, but I was mostly concerned with trying to enjoy the day without harping on the afternoon’s uncomfortable exchange…Follow @onegayatatime