Posts Tagged loud
Glued to the Bed
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 5, 2012
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.
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Is This Really Working?
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 22, 2012
Since my last date with Southern Drawl, he had been bothering me for another date. I was trying to take things slow with him. I wasn’t gaga for him by any means. He was growing on me a little, but he still left a lot to be desired.
We made plans to make plans after work Tuesday evening. I left work when he was about finished after trying to bang out a blog entry and made my way downtown to his office. I waited for him on the street corner to finish work for about ten minutes when it began to drizzle. I had not expected rain at all and had no umbrella. I was growing impatient. I called him, but he didn’t answer. Finally, I noticed him walking up to me at a very slow pace with his headphones attached to his phone.
Normally, I would greet someone I’d gone on this many dates with a kiss, but not him. He was too self-conscious. He was not out and was not comfortable with public displays of affection. This bothered me. I needed someone who could love himself enough to not care about everyone else.
We decided to walk downtown on the High Line. I climbed the stairs, and he walked behind me. We took a nice stroll south to find a place to grab dinner. We didn’t have a place in mind, but we had a neighborhood — the West Village. We talked about our days while we walked. Once again, he made a crack, and I didn’t respond well. It was always hard to gauge his sense of humor. We never seemed to be on the same page. If I joked back, he would tell me I was getting defensive and loud. It was insulting. He obviously didn’t get my sarcastic sense of humor.
When we reached the end of the High Line, we descended the stairwell and walked to find food. We passed more than a few places that looked good, but they didn’t have any available tables. They were either too crowded or they appeared non-desirable. We finally came to Frankies 570. I had been there, and the food is amazing. I hesitated going there for a solid second because I already had memories with Smiles there. We shared a really nice meal there one night after work. Then I thought about it, and it made more sense for me to expunge those memories. I could overwrite them with new ones. I didn’t exactly have positive associations with him. I felt used by him as a meal companion.
I suggested it to S.D., and we perused menu before going in. He agreed on the spot and was seated by the front widow at a nice table for two. We ordered drinks and chatted casually. It was nice to sit and relax and just talk about things and my day. We discussed his coming trip home. He was very excited. This would be the last time I saw him before he left. He told me he’d be sending me a lot of pictures from home and would call periodically.
Throughout dinner, he was much more demur than usual. There were no overtly sexual comments and no innuendoes. It was kinda nice. He asked a lot of questions as well. Usually, he was just talking away. It was nice to talk about our upbringings and his home, however, his sense of entitlement was still shining through. He spoke about politics and slavery. He told me stories of his family and how they basically still had slaves. He certainly wasn’t winning me over. I was never all that thrilled with the South’s way of doing things, and he was certainly perpetuating the stereotype in my mind. I also learned how important money is to him, and it was a real turnoff.
Slowly but surely, I was realizing this guy really wasn’t right for me. We had so little in common. I was simply enamored by someone paying attention to me and being interested in me. We were in a downward spiral.
On the positive side, my meal was spectacular. I ordered the rabbit ragu and enjoyed every bite. My drinks was pretty amazing as well.
When we finished eating, we sat there talking a bit more before heading out. When we finished our drinks, he accidentally spilled his water all over me. It was a bit humorous because we were just joking about it, and it embarrassed him immensely. The table next to us took notice of the large commotion this caused, as did the wait staff. We paid our tab and made our way out into the street.
He walked me to the corner to say goodbye. I could tell he was very uncomfortable. I was a block from the PATH and ready to head home. I was not going to a second location, and I was not going home with him. I think he was itching to hang out more, but I wasn’t interested. Just as I was about to go in for a kiss, he turned his head. I was partially p*ssed and partially happy. This was creating an out for me. I scoffed at him and began to walk across the street to go home. He chased me and stopped me on the other side of the street. I told him what he did was not cool at all. As he went in for a kiss, I played along, and at the last second, I too turned my head. Just then, a man was crossing the street and witnessed this. He began to chuckle to himself, and I pointed this out to S.D. He was embarrassed. It served him right. If he thought he had a chance with me, he’d have to sack up. I wasn’t about to date a closet case. I’d moved past that.
We said our goodbyes, and we finally did share a kiss. There was nothing magical. He was still self-conscious. He may have made a good friend, but I couldn’t see myself with him in a relationship. I finally came to see the light. I said goodnight and hailed him a cab. I put him in the cab and said goodbye. I wouldn’t see him for over a week. This would give time for things to settle and fizzle out. I wasn’t going to end things over the phone across state lines, but I wasn’t going to make myself available while he was gone.
After all, I was back out there searching for a real prospect. I needed a real man who could make me happy. I didn’t need to settle on a guy like this. I live in NYC. I fired up Grindr to check my messages on my walk home. There are great gay men everywhere. Now, they just needed to find me…
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Finding the Piece of My Heart I Left in San Francisco
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 1, 2012
Wednesday night arrived. It was “date night” for San Francisco and I. We were meeting in the Castro to grab a drink and maybe some dinner together. It had been a while since I’d seen him last, and we were due for a catch up.
Since work was paying, and I was too lazy to learn the public transit system in San Francisco, I decided to take a cab. We arrive in The Castro neighborhood, and I witnessed the largest rainbow flag I’d ever seen in my life. The only thing I could compare it to (for the Americans in the room) is the giant American flags that adorn the poles in the parking lots of Perkins across the country. If you read my blog, you know how much I’m not a fan of the rainbow. However, I’m embarrassed to admit, the sheer size and presence of this thing actually made me a little proud.
I got out of the cab and met him on the street as we exchanged a hug and a kiss. We made our way to Badlands just up the street just in time for some happy hour specials. We caught up on the other’s dating life over the past few months. I learned San Francisco is currently casually dating someone. In the back of my mind, I’m very happy to hear this news. I didn’t want things to escalate beyond drinks for us, and this news was reassuring.
I told him the abbreviated story of Smiles and what I did on New Year’s Eve. He was a little surprised, but certainly didn’t judge.
As the alcohol flowed, his emotions escalated. He became much more affectionate, and even started to get a bit hot n’ heavy. I just went along with it. I had no emotions attached to these actions. I was fully over San Francisco. I tried changing the subject so he wouldn’t keep putting the moves on me.
He talked about the possibility of moving back to New York, but said it would be very different this time around. He’s a completely different person. Everything he was saying were basically the reasons why I ended things with him. It was as if he’d read the blog. (To my knowledge, he still does not know about the blog).
We started talking about his dream of opening a bar in Hawaii. We talked a great deal about even the smallest details in his dream. I suggested a name for his bar, and he immediately fell in love with it. He even went as far as to register the domain immediately from his BlackBerry. I told him how to do all this with my advertising background and knowledge and my recent experience of purchasing my own domain for this blog.
He then brought up the possibility of checking out a drag show that evening, but then he remembered it wasn’t my thing. Instead, he suggested we grab dinner at one of his favorite restaurants.
The meal was spectacular, and it wasn’t that expensive. I was also introduced to one of his friends who is a server there. As the night went on, San Francisco grew more and more inebriated. He wasn’t’ too much to handle yet, but he was drawing closer. He started growing louder and more indignant.
When the bill arrived, I think he thought I was going to take care of it. I think he thinks I have an unlimited expense account (which isn’t the case at all), when in reality I paid for his meal the last time I was out there because I wanted to thank him for hanging out with me that night. We split the check and made our way for the door.
The whole time, I was trying to send a pretty clear signal I wasn’t interested in hooking up that night. I was failing. He asked if we should go back to my hotel or hit up his apartment. Then he answered his own question when he realized how close to his place we were. Again, I just went with it. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t just go home. I think I thought I could get him home and then say goodnight.
While we rode in a cab to his apartment, he asked me about the stuffed animals and orchids he sent me for my birthday. I explained that was over nine months ago. I was lucky I kept the orchids alive for six months. As far as the stuffed animals, I told him I gave the mistaken monkey away, but I still had the bear (of much more significance) at my parents’ house.
When we got to his place, I met his roommate for the first time. One had only seen me on Skype and heard lots about me, and the other had never met me. Ironically, the other share the same unique name as me and joined on as a roommate shortly following our breakup. I’m not going to lie; I thought it was a bit weird.
When we finished tormenting the roommates with S.F.’s drunken antics, we went into his room. It appeared I was spending the night. However, it was just going to be that. I was not having sex with him.
Of course the makeout session ensued. I thought to myself, “At least he’s a good kisser.” Then the makeout session morphed into more passionate actions, and I found myself with no clothes on. S.F. put me in a position to begin to penetrate me, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. I kept casually squirming so it wouldn’t be possible. He kept gently trying, but I wasn’t going to give in. There was no way in hell I was going to have sex with him, but I also knew I was dealing with a drunk man. I gently whispered into his ear, “Let’s just spend the night together.”
With that, he rolled over into little spoon position. I curled up with him and went to bed. In the morning, when my alarm went off for me to head back to my hotel to go to work, I found myself with his mouth on my “morning excitement.” I had forgotten how good he is at that. It didn’t quite matter. I wasn’t in the mindset to finish with him, and we know how difficult that can be even when I am in the mindset.
I got dressed, and he remained in bed. I could tell he was disappointed, but I didn’t care. I was not going to revisit old territory.
I didn’t hear from him until much later the next day. He told me how hungover he was in the morning, proving to me how drunk he was. He asked what my plans were for the remainder of my trip, but we didn’t discuss meeting up again while I was there. I was happy to dodge that bullet.
I let things go further than I wanted, but at least I didn’t hurt his feelings too harshly in the meantime. In my mind things wouldn’t quite be the same for us going forward. No longer did I feel the urge to call him just to chat, which is sad. It appears I have collected what pieces of my heart I left in San Francisco…
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At the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
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