CK and I were having a very long holiday weekend, and we were only half way through it. As CK wanted to go to the Scissor Sisters concert on Friday, which ended up happening on Saturday, I wanted to spend the weekend with my friends as well. We made plans before the weekend kicked off, and we were going to try to stick to it.
Early Sunday morning, CK and I woke up and quickly got ready for the day. We hopped on my motorcycle and made our way to Hoboken. We were catching a ride with K to her parents’ house on Mohawk Lake. Since it was an hour drive, K wanted to leave early. Of course, we made it back to Hoboken and finished getting ready just in the nick of time to stay on her schedule. K’s roommates, D and G, and D’s girlfriend were also joining us. The five of us were spending the day on the water, tubing, swimming and lounging in the sun.
When we arrived at the lake, we visited with K’s mother before prepping the boat. We all piled in, along with all the proper refreshments, and shoved off the dock. I was excited for a nice relaxing day on the lake. The weekend was off to a bit of a chaotic start, and I needed a day to hit the reset button. Everyone else was drinking, but that was the last thing I needed. For me, the sun was all I needed to be happy. I just wanted to lay out on the back of the boat and work on my tan.
Before breaking out the tube, we drove to the far side of the lake to drop anchor and hang out in the cove. The water was smooth, and there weren’t many people out on the lake. In usual fashion, wherever CK went, so did his music. We weren’t even out of the dock before he was plugging in his music. I wasn’t opposed to music in general, but he was playing all the songs we’d heard the night before. I could also tell, Scissor Sisters weren’t exactly my friends’ cup of tea. However, this was not something I was about to engage in. I found my happy place, laid out a towel, and tried to drift off in the warmth of the sun.
When I got hot, I decided to hop in. Everyone else had already taken a dip. It was the perfect Sunday. Everyone was relaxing and just enjoying themselves. We all talked about our weekends and caught up with each other. I’ve always liked this group of friends. They all felt like my “Seinfeld” crew. On top of that, I had my man with me. That always makes me happy.
When we were all hungry, we drove to the other end of the lake to grab a few slices of pizza for lunch. When we all finished eating, we snapped a few fun and patriotic pictures on the boardwalk of the lake.
Once we all managed to digest our food, it was time to break out the tube. K was an experienced whip cracker. Everyone took turns riding the tube with a partner. It was a blast. In her usual fashion, K was relentless when I was on the tube. I think I frustrate her sometimes, and she uses that time to take all those frustrations out on me. However, I usually manage to hold on for longer than expected. That being said, she always finds a way to get me off that giant rubber floating donut.
I especially had a lot of fun riding the tube with CK. We made a great team, and my friends snapped quite a few great shots of us both. I was happy to have such a nice day after how bad our Friday night was. We really needed a nice day together.
It wasn’t all smooth sailing however. Over the course of the day, I noticed K getting frustrated with CK. She was not only the owner of the boat, but also the captain. He wasn’t listening to instructions very well. When she was ready to hit the throttle, CK was standing on the back of the boat. When she’d need to maneuver to circle back to pick someone up who fell off the tube, he was standing to change the music. I was worried we wouldn’t be invited back again. Or worse. I would be, but I wouldn’t be able to bring him back again. I asked him to be more conscientious about her directions. “Whatever she said, goes,” I added.
When we were all sufficiently exhausted, we made our way back to K’s parents’ dock. We had a bit of a drive ahead of us.
D had his new car with him since he drove separately. I had yet to be in it, so I suggested CK and I ride with him, leaving the other two to drive together. On the ride home, we all planned to hit up D, K and G’s apartment for a bar-be-cue. It would be our last hurrah of the holiday weekend before heading back to work. D dropped us off at my place, and we got ready to head over to grill up some burgers. I quickly made a pasta salad as well because I didn’t want to show up empty handed.
I wasn’t originally aware, but we were also going to meet K’s new man. He is much younger than the rest of our group, and as a result, he spent the better portion of the evening trying to impress us. That’s a surefire way for me not to be impressed. I like genuine people, not people who put on airs and say what they think I want to hear.
Dinner was nice and very relaxing. It was the perfect end of the holiday weekend. My weekend started off very crazed and chaotic, and it ended very relaxing and serene. When it was getting late, CK and I said our goodbyes and made our way back to my apartment. I agreed to spend the night in the city at his apartment, so I quickly packed a bag before we hopped on the bus.
When we got to his place, neither of us had much energy. We quickly settled into bed and mentally prepared for the workweek coming up after having quite a few days off. CK tuned into The Rachel Maddow show while I shut my eyes and tried to fall asleep in the arms of the man I loved.
That night, when we got home from the lake, we both collapsed in a pile on my bed. We barely had any energy left in us. We had a blast on the lake all day, followed by a belly full of lobster, clams and more. It was one of those summer days we will never forget.
We laid cuddling on my bed for some time. Both of us had our eyes closed. Regardless of how tired I was, my restraint was no match for my libido. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Holding CK in my arms and feeling his body against mine immediately made me hard. I couldn’t help myself, and I couldn’t keep my hands off his amazing body.
What started as innocent kissing quickly escalated. Slowly, but surely, we were stripping each other of articles of clothing until we were embracing and pulling our naked bodies tight against each other. We began to find our rhythm, and the grinding ensued. There was no penetration at this point; we were sensually rubbing key components against each other.
We couldn’t control ourselves, as was common for us. We began rolling and wrestling on the bed. One minute, I was on my back, and in the next minute, he was. The passion was off the charts. We hadn’t had foreplay this hot in quite some time. Eventually, he whispered in my ear, “I want you inside me.” “Yea?” I responded. With that, I opened the top drawer of my dresser and pulled out the lube. I worked over his areas while I teased myself with my lubricated hands. I rested his legs against my chest and shoulders while he guided me in. I could see the ultimate love in his eyes. As I slowly slid inside him, they got wide with excitement.
With every thrust, the love-making grew more passionate. Two things can be truly said about my sex-life with Superman: We have both truly become versatile in bed, and we both fully own the positions we find ourselves in. Whether I top or he tops, it’s epic, and the same goes for bottoming. I love the synchronicity of this type of sexual relationship. We are both getting every experience out of our sex. There is nothing holding us back from fully enjoying each other’s body. Neither of us is pigeon-holed in a position either. When we get into bed, neither of us has any idea who position we’ll be taking. It all happens naturally, and it’s simply epic!
We continued some time before I finished expelling my seed. From them on, Superman was my whole world. My only concern was getting him off, and without pause, he was finishing right after me. I reached down to the bottom drawer of my nightstand and grabbed him a towel. It was just what we needed after a long day on the lake. I was so horny all day staring at his package in his bathing suit. CK is no small man, trust me. It’s absolutely gorgeous, however, it’s torture to see the outline of it through his white trunks without the ability to do anything with it because we’re in public. It’s such a tease. All that built up to equal our romp in the sack that night.
We both laid there drifting in and out of consciousness until we were both out cold. We woke a few hours later. We had to head into the city. CK didn’t have things with him to go to work on Monday morning, so I packed a bag for the following day, and we made our way into the city.
That night, we slept soundly. I fell asleep in his arms, my favorite place to be. Nothing mattered when I was in his embrace — Nothing besides him.
The following day, while at work, CK texted me to see if I would be interested in going to see a performance piece entitled Confessions of a Cuban Sex Addict. At first glance, the joke was there to be made that it was somewhat autobiographical of CK, but I resisted. I wasn’t entirely feeling it. CK was going through a cleanse, and I was strictly watching my diet in solidarity. As a result, we were both particularly cranky. But, when he posed the idea of going (with free tickets) as research for my blog, I agreed to go.
I arrived at the theater earlier than CK. I waited outside for him to arrive. I greeted him with a big kiss, and we made our way inside just in time. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but when the performance began, I was entranced. It was incredibly erotic and intriguing. The story struck a chord deep within me. I had never experienced anything like what the author had gone through, but I knew that vulnerability of sharing one’s story with the public. As he continued his monologue, the lead encouraged us to follow him on the short journey deeper into the performance space itself. It was incredibly raw (and by raw I mean emotion, not literal sex). We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We met the author on our way out, and we thanked him for sharing his story with us. We were both a little taken aback by what we just witnessed. It was a very powerful performance piece acted out by incredible thespians. You could feel the raw emotion throughout the entire performance.
We hopped in a cab since we were quite far from his apartment. Along the way, CK and I started kissing, and I bit CK’s lip harder than I meant to. I have to admit, I did mean to bite him, just not that hard. He had been biting me for some time, and I hated it. I told him, yet it continued. Because of this, I decided I would do it back to him until he stopped. I meant to be playful, but he took it completely the wrong way. He flipped out on me, and it was more than I could handle. I blew up at him. He had a lot of nerve. He was constantly biting me, and every time I protested. Now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine, and it turned into a huge ordeal. I couldn’t stomach the hypocrisy, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time. I let him have it. We argued the whole way back to his place, and the argument continued on the sidewalk in front of his building. He was not understanding where I was coming from. He just kept making excuses for why it was okay. This wasn’t something I would just drop for the sake of arguing. I wanted him to stop biting me. Finally, I got through to him, and he understood how much I hated it. I also apologized for the blowup. We were both at fault and both needed to apologize.
The one good thing about CK and I is that we can fight and move on. I never fought with the other guys I dated, but looking back in hindsight, it was not a sign of a strong relationship — It was a sign of the lack thereof. We fought, but we never went to bed angry with each other. We hash it all out, and we move on. I was actually happy to see us fighting periodically. No one truly enjoys fighting, and I rarely go picking fights I don’t really care about, but I realized we fight because we care. It was healthy. It was then I knew I was on the road to a long and healthy relationship.
After the day on the lake with D, K, and D’s girlfriend, we all decided to go out for Mexican. It seemed this had become my new favorite cuisine considering I had it twice in the days prior on my date with Pillow and the Fire Island bartender. At dinner, I was scolded for being on Grindr. I really tried to limit my time spent on it when I was with friends, but it was a catch 22. If I spent time with them, I was not in a location where I could meet guys. We always went to straight bars. And, I was fine with this. In fact, I preferred it, but my friends would have to be tolerant of my Grindring.
I told D, “Just pretend I walked away from the group to talk to a guy when I’m on Grindr,” because that’s essentially what I’m doing. He suggested I physically walk away, but that was not something I was going to agree to. I asked him to be more understanding. I wish there is an easier way for me to meet men and still spend time with my heterosexual friends, but I have yet to find it.
After dinner and a quick pit-stop at a friend’s apartment to show face at his party, we made our way to the new Hoboken Biergarten. I wasn’t exactly in the most cheerful spirit. That morning, I never got a response from Pillow regarding his attendance to the lake. He didn’t take the time to text or call. I was starting to wonder if he just wasn’t into me. We had a great date the day before, and his texts following acknowledged that. But, I just had a feeling he wasn’t putting as much effort to get to know me as I was putting in to get to know him.
That night at the Biergarten, I noticed he was on Grindr. I’m not exactly sure why I sent him a message, considering he didn’t respond to my text messages, but I did. “Hey stud,” I sent. He responded, “Hi.” After not getting back to me at all, that’s all he had to say? So I said, “Did you go to Musikfest today?” His only response: “Yeah.” Well, that was over. So much for small talk. I said, “Well, have fun.”
After that, I figured I wouldn’t see him again. He obviously wasn’t interested, and it really started to get to me. I had been going on dates for a month and a half since breaking up with N. And, I went on A LOT of dates, almost all of which were failures. I thought this guy had a lot of potential, and I thought we were starting to click. I thought this was finally a success. He was part of an elite group — One of five guys with whom I’d gone on a second date with. Ever. I was feeling really low, and it showed.
A majority of the night, D looked my way and asked me why I was so gloomy. I told him I just wasn’t in a cheerful mood. He said, “I love this group, and I’m having a good time. Snap out of it. We’re having fun!”
I didn’t want to be a “Debbie Downer,” so I figured I’d step away from the table for a bit to try to clear my head. I had a hankering for a cigarette, so I went in search of someone from which I could bum one. I found a Good Samaritan who was willing to part with a cigarette. I relished every puff as a few raindrops fell on my skin. It was working it’s magic and relaxing me. I took the time to people watch. Everywhere I looked, I saw couples. Everything the cigarette gave me was just ripped from me, and I was back to feeling depressed. Dating was really starting to get to me. I’m a catch! Why couldn’t I find a good guy to realize that?
I went back to the table and tried to put on a happy face. I was successful for some time, but I was fading fast. I snuck away again to hunt for another cigarette. After I finished it, I walked home with two of my friends. I explained my issues to them both. They tried to console me, but I don’t think anything short of Bradley Cooper or Matthew McConaughey asking for marriage would have cheered me up.
When I got home, I poked around on Grindr. I found a guy who was two blocks away and looking for a good time. There was one issue — We are both tops. I told him we could just fool around and invited him over. He was an older man in his mid-thirties, but very attractive and had a great body!
We both undressed and had a good time. When we both had our fill, he began to get dressed. He expressed how much he enjoyed himself. He casually mentioned the possibility of a repeat, but we never exchanged numbers, so it would be completely left up to chance. Yet another casual encounter to add to my list.
This was the challenge I faced. I constantly wanted the instant gratification I knew I could conger up on-demand, but I also needed to stop destroying my emotional state following each of those casual encounters with men. It was a delicate balance, but I needed to figure it out so I would stop feeling so awful about my dating life…
Life was good. I had a man who enjoyed spending time with me. I had two roommates lined up to live with me, and I didn’t have to move. I was getting back in shape for the summer. I went from being depressed and feeling alone to utter happiness. It couldn’t have all come along at a better time. Life was good.
That Saturday, I woke early and made coffee for N and I. He was still passed out on the couch from the night before. The day before, we made plans to go to my friend’s lake to help her put her boat in the water. We were hoping for better weather. It was pretty miserable outside — very humid and at time sprinkling rain.
I was still on a high from the night before when N told his friend about me. It validated me in my mind. He really did care about me. I was also happy because he was willing to spend so much time with me. I genuinely enjoyed every moment I spent with him. He was willing to come with me and one of my best friends to help her get her boat ready for the summer, even if it was a crappy day outside.
We got on the road around 9:30, grabbed breakfast on the way and ate in the car. I introduced them to my favorite Hoboken cookies, and they were in heaven. It wasn’t a bad ride because traffic hadn’t gotten into full swing yet. When we arrived at the house, we were greeted by her mother and father. We immediately went to the marina to see if the boat was in the water yet. When my friend went in to talk to the men at the marina, N and I sat in the car talking to her mother. It was interesting to see how he spoke to her. He was genuinely a great guy.
When we got to the boat, the three of us hopped in while my friend’s mother drove back to their house. We drove around the lake for a short bit. N was very happy and looked like I did the first few times she took me out on the boat. I loved seeing him smile that much, especially because of the dimples that formed in his cheeks when he did. Such a turn on!
We drove back to the dock because it began to drizzle. We just sat on the boat for a while under the canopy chatting and relaxing. It was nice. When we started to get tired of sitting around, we went inside, and her mother made us sandwich wraps. N requested so many ingredients, she couldn’t even close the wrap. It was comical. This proper British woman was apologizing for her wrap making skills.
After helping her mother assemble a tree trimming apparatus she purchased to thank her for her hospitality, we decided to get on the road. Shortly after departure, N fell asleep in the back seat, and I talked to my good friend about how things were progressing with him as if he wasn’t there. She could tell how happy I was and was happy for me.
We made a few pit stops on the way home to get a few supplies. I planned a bbq that evening so my two new roommates could meet each other and a few of my friends.
Life was looking up, and the night was just getting started…