Posts Tagged judge

Visit From the Sugar Plumm Fairies

We all know that red roses are the queen of Valentine’s Day, and chocolate is king. If you read my blog, you know just how much I like chocolate. Although I never heard of them before this weekend, I am thrilled to introduce Sugar and Plumm, the Purveyors of Yumm!

Chef Pichet Ong spoke to our intimate group about the delicious creations they are whipping up. Perhaps best known as a judge on Top Chef: Just Desserts, award-winning corporate pastry Chef Ong is the whimsical creator behind the sweet and savory confections of Sugar and Plumm. He combines the fond flavors of his childhood with modern cooking techniques to create culinary offerings that are seasonal, pure, light, and delightfully experimental, yet nostalgic.

After introducing us to the brand, he was kind enough to treat us to their For The Love of Chocolate gorgeously packaged box of some of their finest chocolate creations. It is an amazing assortment of hand-crafted artisan chocolates with origins from around the world. This box included two white chocolate blueberry and six pure dark Mexican chocolate ganache. However, the pleasant surprises didn’t end there. Hidden below were chocolates with flavors and aromas consisting of raspberry, vanilla, coconut, hazelnut praline, jasmine tea infused ganache, ginger, milk chocolate and pure dark Peruvian. On top of allowing us to sample some of their finest chocolate creations, we were also give a pair of their brightly colored, delicate French macaroons. It was all I could do to keep myself from digging in immediately.

When I untied the ribbon and opened my brightly colored box, I was blown away by the impeccably pristine chocolates before me. They were almost too pretty to eat. Luckily, that would not stop me. What did stop me was the thought of my boyfriend waiting for me at home. There’s something incredibly romantic about fine artisan chocolates that makes it sinful not to share with a loved one.

On our anniversary, the day before Valentine’s day, I told my boyfriend I had a surprise for him. I told him to close his eyes and open his mouth. After a bit of trepidation, he complied, and boy was he glad he did. His face lit up from ear to ear as he savored his first bite of the dark chocolate ganache-filled heart. I sampled the white chocolate blueberry-filled heart. I’d never tasted anything so complex and exquisite. It was heaven. I was reminded of the first time blueberry wine touched my lips, and I had to have more. The combination of blueberry and white chocolate was pure genius. I forced myself to put the box away so I could savor these the little bits of chocolate heaven for a few days; I simply did not want the experience to end!

There was no way I could possibly ignore the fresh macaroons waiting the ultimate demise. Although there were two, I wanted the best of both worlds. As it’s rather impossible to split a macaroon, I simply bit half for myself and passed the other half to my boyfriend. We made long extended moans as we enjoyed these incredible indulgences, and that was just the vanilla macaroon. I repeated our ritual with the strawberry poppy-seed, and the moans of happiness only grew louder. The flavors transported me back to the beach with my parents snacking on strawberry Twizzlers.

It was amazing how incredibly nostalgic Sugar and Plumm’s confectionaries were. How could so much be contained in such a small morsel?

I was shocked to learn that Sugar and Plumm serve breakfast, lunch, dinner, weekend brunch, and every craving in between. I was expecting a purveyor of sweets, but they create works of art from homemade ice cream and macaroons, to house-smoked salmon and Berkshire pulled pork, our team of master chefs, bakers, and chocolatiers are purveyors of all things delicious and delightful. The bake shop even makes everything handmade, from scratch. The only problem you’ll find is deciding what to order (and possibly that top button on your pants).

Although it’s too late to place an order for Valentine’s Day delivery, if you’re looking for that perfect way to show the special person in your life just how much they mean to you, this is a perfect for Valentine’s Day — Or any of the other 364 days of the year. The have gift boxes for every budget and an in-store experience you won’t soon forget! This Upper West Side spot with Parisian charm and a downtown vibe is sure to knock the socks off anyone who enters and will certainly not disappoint!

For more information, visit the on Facebook.

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The Milkman

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

Periodically I get slightly outlandish requests from men on Grindr. Some want to pay me to suck on my toes and lick my feet. Some are looking for very kinky things. Some just want to give a bl*wjob. To be honest, this was never something I have ever craved giving. It’s part of my bedroom repertoire, but it’s never something I’m just really itching to do without getting some reciprocation. This isn’t always the case with Grindr, adam4adam and ManHunt men.

On the night before St. Patty’s day in Hoboken, I received a bunch of Grindr messages from a guy who’d been asking to come over and give me a bl*wjob before work on numerous occasions. I was laying in bed watching TV and saw no harm in a little oral pleasure. As the conversation continued, he went dark, and I went to bed.

As per my usual, the next morning, I woke up horny. I had multiple messages from “The Milkman.” I conversed with him on the subject for a little bit. He apologized for dozing off the night before and never coming over. He seriously wanted to make it up to me. “I’ll make up for last night. I swear! You won’t regret it. I’m that good!” He was at his apartment waiting for his friends to wake up. They spent the night in anticipation of the local holiday. I told him I was still in bed and was horny. He immediately offered to come over and service me, but he wouldn’t be able to do it until 12:30. By then, my roommate would have my apartment filled with her friends. That would prove to be a logistical nightmare to sneak him in. Not that I need to sneak him in, but I don’t need a bunch of fresh college grad girls running their mouths about me.

He continued to push me to figure out a way to make it happen. “You can drink a beer while I do it,” he added. He had to wait until 12:30 because that was when his group was heading to the bar. He would double back and come over to my place. I explained the party and told him I’d have to sneak him in the back door. He seemed to be game with the plan. I questioned what I’d have to do for him, and he immediately told me nothing. He just really wanted to service me. He wasn’t the best looking guy, but he wasn’t ugly either. I was okay with the situation as long as I didn’t have to service him.

We started getting graphic, but also discussed safety. We didn’t really know each other. We didn’t want to do anything too risky. I was all riled up and having a hard time not finishing myself off right then and there. I told him to just come over then, but he wouldn’t sneak out on his friends. I was so horny. “I can’t. My girl is here. Wait. You’ll get it.” WHAT!? His girl? Guess he had a girlfriend. That was none of my business. If he wasn’t doing it with me, it’d be some other guy. It was obvious we weren’t going to form a relationship out of this, so it was no skin off my back. I did question him on it, and he explained it was a terminal relationship. It was already on life-support. He told me not to touch myself. “Think about baseball or grandmas,” he added. With that, I went and took a shower to pass the time before his arrival.

When he got to the door, he texted. I buzzed him in and he climbed the back staircase. It took a few attempts and close calls before I opened the door and he came straight into my bedroom and closed the door. When I told him a girl just walked past the door, he responded, “This is crazy bro.” Everyone was finally in the kitchen, and I assumed I pulled it off.

We chatted a bit about our previous conversation and our plans for the day while we shared a beer. He seemed like a reasonable guy. Very down-to-earth and realistic. He wasn’t the most fit guy, but he was a fun character. He was also very anxious to get my pants off.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I sat on the bed, and he pulled my shorts down. He was very pleased with what he saw, and he went to town. I took the opportunity to use my hands to fondle him through his pants. He quickly became aroused, which further increased my arousal. He continued for some time before I moved up on the bed. He came around my side, and I undid his pants so I could really feel him. It didn’t take much longer before I was on the edge of climax. He back his head away and began to use his hand while I finished in quite a fountain show. I think we both loved every second of it. He really was as good as he made himself out to be.

While I toweled off, I asked him about his girlfriend. He told me he was ready to dump her. He also mentioned many of his friends already knew he was gay. I wasn’t fully buying any of his stories. They all seemed just a little too convenient.

The conversation then turned on me. He told me how good-looking I was. He enjoyed my strong features. I complain about my nose quite often and am seriously considering getting it fixed. When I mentioned this, he heavily protested. “You have a very strong Roman nose. Don’t change a thing about it,” he protested. I told him that was the nicest way anyone has ever described my big nose before. We both laughed. “No. But really. It’s great. That and your strong chin. You’re a very handsome man,” he added. I was blushing.

Shortly after, we snuck him back out the door when the coast was clear. Five minutes later, I received a text from him: “Thanks! You’re a pretty rad guy!… And stop picking on that face. You’re a f#ckin’ knockout!” This was the first time anyone had ever thanked me for them giving me a bl*wjob. I replied, “If anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.” He told me any time I wanted him to come over, he’d be all over it. “I’d love to have a regular thing where I swing by in the morning before work a few times a week,” he said. He really was like the milkman.

I polished off my beer and walked out to the kitchen. I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought. My male roommate and his girlfriend noticed him come in. They didn’t care and didn’t judge me. When I told them the full story, they actually gave me a high-five. I walked to the fridge and grabbed another beer. I had a long day of drinking in front of me…

 

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Breakfast 2.0

I continued my walk of shame north on Seventh Avenue. I was still dressed for a night out from New Year’s Eve the night before. I didn’t care if anyone judged me. I was in my own world. No one else existed that morning. I was utterly alone in a city of millions.

I continued to try to reach Boston through text and by phone, but no dice. Since I was going to be near his apartment, I thought I would reach out to Broadway. At the very least, I could kill time with a visit until Boston finally decided to get back to me. I called him, and he picked up after a few rings. I asked him what he was up to and told him I wanted to swing by for a visit. He was still in bed and said he needed a few minutes, but he told me to come by. I told him I was walking from the 20s, so there was no rush for him to get out of bed.

When I arrived, I walked right up to his apartment. It was like old times — A blast from the past. It’d been months since I’d been there, but it felt like yesterday. I knocked on the door, and he greeted me. I came in and sat while he finished getting ready for the day. We sat on the couch, and he asked how my New Years was. “Tell me stories. You always have good stories to tell me,” he added. I told him what I did the night before. I gave him the cliff notes because I didn’t want to belabor the point. The wound was still fresh and bleeding. He shrugged it off and suggested we go to the diner for breakfast. I kinda loved that about him. He knew how I felt about it, so he did his best to brush it under the rug.

I agreed to go to breakfast, but I told him I’d already eaten. I would keep him company, and we could catch up. It’d been since the summer since I’d seen him.

Breakfast was nice. He told me about the party he went to the night before and all the guys he was pursuing. As usual, he was very passive about it. “I dunno if I really want to see him again…” he’d say. He’d find something completely superficial to judge the guy about so he wouldn’t have to put in the effort.

Since Smiles’ birthday gathering, we gained a mutual friend. We learned this from Facebook. The guy who I palled around for the night had been at the party Broadway went to the night before. They interacted, but it wasn’t a positive interaction. Broadway was remotely interested in this guy, but apparently he gave him the cold shoulder. This really turned him off, but I assured him my birthday buddy was a really great guy. If I’d been single that night, I probably would have asked him for his number. Broadway wasn’t sold.

Ironically enough, Smiles and I were almost at this party. It wasn’t until Smiles learned of the over-priced charge to enter that he decided we were just going to the house party. It was crazy to realize Broadway, Smiles and I were all swimming in the same circles in New York City. Apparently the gay community was pretty tight, even in a big city. It put it all into perspective. It also made me realize the picture of myself I painted when I let a stranger suck on my neck and face in front of the guy I was dating.

I wasn’t feeling very talkative, so I did a lot of question asking and listening. When Broadway finished his breakfast, he asked for the check. He wasn’t feeling well, so he wanted to go back to bed. I checked my phone, and Boston still hadn’t gotten back to me. I guess I wouldn’t see him before he left the city.

I walked Broadway back to his apartment and said goodbye. Something I learned from him was it is okay to kiss an ex on the lips when you see them. When I first came out, I was fascinated by how often gay men kissed each other. This was completely foreign to me and not something I was comfortable with. Even if I travel in a big gay pack, I don’t think I would be kissing my gay male friends. But, I felt comfortable kissing a man who I had kissed over a hundred times. So we exchanged a kiss and a hearty hug before I made my way to Port Authority to snag a bus back to Hoboken.

While I walked to the bus, I texted Smiles: “Since I have the day off tomorrow, can we do something fun?” I was hoping I could do some damage control and get us back on a happy track.

It wasn’t long before I received a simple text in response: “I have to work tomorrow.” I was already picturing a Monday afternoon with me sinking deep into the couch by myself in front of the TV. I was very disappointed, but it’s not like I had anything to say. I was the one who royally messed up here. I was going to have to deal with the consequences.

Later that evening, I talked to Boston on Facebook. I told him what I did and how things played out. We didn’t talk long, but promised to come back to the topic when he had more time.

I had time all day to assess the situation. Why wasn’t Smiles mad? I realized I wasn’t happy about this. It hurt even more. It showed me quite clearly how little I meant to him. I didn’t see any way to recover from this. I was pretty sure our relationship was over. And, since I’m pretty much a high schooler in the gay dating world, I hopped back on adam4adam.com and Grindr that night to see what was out there. I wasn’t throwing my line into the sea, but I could at least swim around and see what kind of fish were out there…

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