Posts Tagged Manhattan

Cooler Heads Prevail

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…

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An Evening Matinee, Pt. 2

The party was in full swing. Matinee had a huge turnout, and some of my suspicions were already confirmed. I was in for a long night.

As the evening progressed, CK ran into a handful of people he knew. I was very leery of many of these people because I assumed the majority were previous hookups and fellow circuit party enthusiasts. My guard was up. No one was going to make a move on my man without me having more than a few words to say. One previous hookup in particular was starting to weird me out. I would catch him staring at CK across the crowd, which turned me into a guard dog. I wasn’t going to let CK out of my sight.

I still had a lot of anxiety after he told me he didn’t go to the last circuit party because he wasn’t sure what might happen. It was honest, but it didn’t exactly instill confidence in me. I wasn’t holding it against him, because after all, he was forthcoming. But, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be hypersensitive.

Speaking of infidelity, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of one of the newlyweds I’d met earlier in the night with his tongue down another man’s throat. I scanned the crowd for his husband, and he too was sucking face. My heart sank a little. I was so thrilled to have met a gay married couple because it is something I long for. But, judgment aside, after witnessing their definition of marriage, it brought the idea I would never find a man who shared my own definition of marriage back to the surface.

Since Hip was still recovering from hip replacement surgery, he needed periodic breaks from all the dancing. I can’t tell you how happy I was to have him there. Every time he took a break from the dance floor, I joined him. I needed a break as much as he did. While we stood on the sidelines, I complained, “When is this lozenge going to kick in!?” We chuckled a bit while watching CK search the crowd to try to find us until I finally got his attention.

Hip wasn’t the only other guy I knew there. I’d been texting with my ex, Broadway, who I am still friendly with. We rarely see each other anymore, but when we do, it’s completely platonic. I learned he’d be attending, so I suggested we at least take a minute to say hi. I also wanted to introduce him to CK so they could both put a face to the name. We managed to find each other in the crowd over the phone and exchanged a hug. He introduced me to the guy he was there with, and I introduced him to CK. It felt a little forced for some reason, so I didn’t dwell on the conversation, and we said goodbye.

As the night continued, I began to feel the effects of my lozenge. I was very happy because I mellowed me out. I was in a good state from there on out. That is until others in the group pulled out some of the stronger vices. It was my first time witnessing this. I don’t feel I’ve lead a sheltered life, but my friends and I just never put ourselves in those situations. I felt quite uncomfortable. A big part of that is the unknown — I knew very little about it. Another part of it stems from resentment. I feel a sense of, “Am I not enough that you feel the need to heighten the experience?”

I tried to turn a blind eye to it and get on with my night. CK really wanted to be there, and he really wanted me to have a good time. I wanted to give him that. I wanted him to see me enjoying myself, so that’s what I did. I worried about the things I could control and tried to forget the rest.

We danced and danced and danced. We had a really great time dancing. Natasha Bedingfield performed, and I even saw my favorite Twitter couple, @AustinWilde and @AnthyRomero. I pointed them out to CK, and he suggested I go say hi. I put myself in their shoes and refrained. They were there to have a good time, just as I was, and I didn’t want to bother them.

Another round of substances made a pass through the group, and once again, I was feeling on edge. This time I wasn’t as good at hiding my lack of comfort. CK was really good about checking in with me to make sure I was alright and having a good time. When I told him how my lozenge made me feel great, he chuckled and gave me a kiss.

The night was coming to a close. Sure, it was stressful as all hell, and when it was over, I felt incredibly relieved. Relieved and exhausted. It takes so much out of you to be so anxious for so long. But, looking back, I did have fun. After experiencing that and XL the night before, the next go around would be far less stressful. I would a least know what to expect. People began making their way back to the ferry to hit up more club parties in Manhattan. Before we left, CK and I snapped a few romantic pictures with the city skyline in the background. This part was easy. I could stop worrying and finally let myself be engulfed by the love I shared with CK. In the end, that was what mattered. When he was happy, I was happy. This was something he’d been looking forward to for months, and I hoped I delivered.

While we were away from the crowd, CK pulled me in to discuss our plans for the remainder of the night. Originally, we discussed going to Work (Peter Rauhofer was spinning) at Roseland, but to my surprise, he suggested another plan. “Baby, tonight’s been amazing! And I know Work’s gonna be off the hook, but if you’re game, I think we should go to a really exclusive after-party. Getting on the guest list is nearly impossible, but we’re on it.” Without another beat, he said, “Let’s go back to my place and make love till the sun rises. Words cannot express how welcome those words were.

When pointed out how I felt bad abandoning Hip, I suggested we get back to him. Of course, I was thrilled to learn he met an aussieMan on the dance floor who took quite a shining to him. They were having a great time together, and I couldn’t have been happier. While I loved having Hip there, I worried he felt like a third wheel with CK and I. That doesn’t go to say he should have. I loved having him there. To be honest, I don’t think I would have made it through the night without him. He is an amazing guy, and he really deserves an amazing man to make him happy. It also just so happened the aussieMan had an extra ticket to Work, so Hip became his plus one.

We all rode the ferry and the subway together until we reached Hell’s Kitchen. After an exchange of hugs, we parted ways. CK and I walked home blissfully hand-in-hand. CK may get a little bent out of shape when I say this, but that was my favorite part of the night. I was always happiest when it was just the two of us. True, we are both social beings and love being surrounded by people, but there’s nothing quite like some quality time with my man! I really did love him!

When we got home, we were both quite exhausted, however, we weren’t too exhausted to take advantage of each other before dozing off. But, that’s another story for another day…

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An Evening Matinee, Pt. 1

CK and I had a fun afternoon promoting the circuit party we were attending that evening. When we got back to CK’s apartment, CK, Hip and I relaxed listening to music and chatting before getting ready, however we didn’t have all that much time before we needed to go to Governor’s Island for Matinee.

I watched from the sidelines while CK and Hip played dress up. My work in that arena was done. I had to decide what I was wearing the day before when I packed my bag for the weekend. I witnessed CK try on roughly 30 different permutations of outfits before he finally got every detail just the way he wanted. Meanwhile, I was stressing about how I could make my outfit gay enough so I wouldn’t stand out but normal enough to feel comfortable in my own skin. Hip didn’t have much work to do either. Originally, he wasn’t planning to go, so he pretty much had the clothes on his back with a few embellishments from CK.

I wasn’t thrilled with the shirt I originally chose, and the shirt I got from promoting seemed like it would work out well for me. Apparently, CK had the same thought. We were worried we’d look like twins, but Hip assured us it was cute. After carving up his own t-shirt, he insisted on taking a scissor to mine, but I asked him not to. He surmised that he had better judgment than I did, but I stood my ground. I wanted to go to this thing feeling like myself. I wasn’t going to change that just for some event.

Sure, I was trying to fit in, but I wanted to maintain some level of individuality. Of course, since I was already on edge, this started an unnecessary argument. I was shutting down. He was making me feel even more anxious about the night, and that was the last thing I needed. Things got pretty heated until he realized what was going on. I was going to add a few more cuts in my shirt, but I wasn’t going to wear the strands of fabric he turned his into.

We finally settled on attire and were headed to the bar knowing drinks would be expensive at Matinee. I wasn’t thrilled with POSH, the location choice, as Broadway always called it Poor Old Sad Homos. I didn’t want to hang out with a bunch of creepy old ‘mos, but I’d never been so I didn’t really protest. We had a quick round of drinks before venturing to Governor’s island.

We walked across the island of Manhattan until we found the right subway stop to get us downtown to the ferry. My anxiety was getting to me, and on the way to get cash from the ATM, CK and I had a small breakdown. He pulled me aside to make sure we were cool before we got on the ferry while Hip made himself scarce. He managed to reassure me everything was going to be all right, and we were going to have a great time. I kinda needed that to snap me out of it. I was getting into my head once again, causing all kinds of problems. Sometimes a vivid imagination can be a curse. After that, things were better, and CK and I were actually talking to Hip about how we discussed what a marriage between the two of us might be like, such as the wedding party. Hip was thrilled to hear he would be included in this.

After a quick ferry ride, we were there. We made our way through the line and posed for a picture as we entered the party. When I noticed a Grindr Pride sign, I insisted CK and I snap a picture in front of it. We’d been joking about contacting them to do a testimonial like eHarmony commercials.

This was it. I was making my circuit party debut. As we came around the bend, the festivities came into view. It was a sea of shirtless men. I may sound stupid for saying this (and I wasn’t the only one to think this), but when CK told me it was a “water park,” I was expecting a lot more water. I wasn’t expecting water slides or anything, but I wasn’t expecting the entire party to be on sand and dry land.

The first thing we did was head to the bar to get a drink, and boy did I need it. Of course, as we predicted, the drinks were not cheap. I immediately wished I brought more cash. While I knew there were be an abundance of illicit substances, I wasn’t planning to participate. (I’m probably going to come across like a complete goodie-two-shoes here). I was, however, planning to get pretty hammered to loosen me up. I wasn’t going to be closed-minded, and if I felt comfortable partaking, I would. That being said, I’d never done anything other than pot before, and I was already out of my element. I thought one anxiety-causing experience at a time was plenty.

Alcohol wasn’t going to be the only thing to get me through the night. My friend D supplied me with a lozenge from a medical facility in San Francisco after his last trip there. I didn’t quite have any use for it until that night. I thought it would be the perfect thing to mellow me out. He told me all the hang-ups, but the benefits seriously outweighed any of the possible negative effects.

I unwrapped my lozenge and waited for it to kick in. D told me to suck on half, and save the other half for later, especially since it was my first time, but half way through, I wasn’t feeling a thing. I kept sucking on it until there was nothing left.

In the meantime, I was dancing and trying to have a good time with Hip and CK. We met a lot of new people, including one couple that recently wed. I was thrilled to hear that, as they were the first married gay couple I’d met in person, but I’ll circle back to them later.

While CK and I were dancing, a cute young blond boy came up and started dancing with us. It was plain to see he was feeling some sort of high. CK was facing me, and the boy came up and started dancing up on his backside. I wasn’t thrilled with this, and my heart started pounding out of my chest. I tried to be cool and remain calm. I don’t know why I get so worked up about these things, but it’s like a trigger. CK wanted to open my mind and suggested I get in the center. I would later learn, he thought I might enjoy being the center of attention like that, however I explained to him that was the last thing I wanted. It started off innocent enough, but then the guy began thrusting himself against CK’s backside, and I nearly lost it. I wasn’t going to go off on the kid or anything, however, I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop NOW! I think CK got the hint from my face and gently shuffled the kid away. Minutes later, the kid came up behind me and started dancing against my backside, but I turned around and politely shook my head no and said, “Sorry.” I could see it in his eyes — This kid was in another world.

It was then I knew I was in for a long night. I wasn’t necessarily worried what CK would do. I was more worried what others would do with him. I had a feeling our definitions of what was acceptable differed. I was petrified of witnessing something he thought was innocent, and I thought unacceptable. Everyone was in an altered state, just as I suspected, and I wasn’t exactly from the “anything goes” camp many of the other attendees were a part of. I needed to find a way to calm down, or I was going to drive myself clinically insane…

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His Mother’s Day

The day after my birthday, CK and I made plans for me to meet his mother while she was in town. I celebrated my birthday the day before without him, but I still managed to have fun. I was incredibly excited to see him. I was also incredibly honored to meet his mother. I couldn’t believe he felt comfortable introducing me to her exactly one month from the date we first met, however, we’d grown extremely close in that short period of time.

There was a plan for me to meet CK, his mother, and three of his friends at Essex and Beauty on the Lower East Side for brunch. It was Mother’s Day, so I knew wherever we were going was going to be a sh*tshow! I was slightly anxious. I was more nervous about meeting the one friend I’d never met before than I was about his mother. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t feel any pressure there. I was pretty relaxed about it. Either way, I was missing my Superman terribly.

I arrived a few minutes late for our reservation. CK and his mother were still in transport, but the three friends had already sat at the table. One of them came to the front to greet me and take me to the table. I’d met him before when we all went to see Avengers together. As we ascended the staircase to our table, he informed me of a problem in the kitchen. He mentioned something about a leak and having to shut the kitchen down. There was new immediacy to our plans.

Per usual, CK was running quite late. I learned they were in a cab, but they were on the other side of Manhattan, however, he shared the good news he finally found a new apartment. It wasn’t in Brooklyn. It wasn’t on the Lower East Side. It was in Hell’s Kitchen. I was thrilled!!

We learned they wouldn’t arrive in time for us to order, and one of the friends began to protest in uproar. He argued with the staff until he learned of the true nature of the problem. The maître d’ offered to walk us over to their sister restaurant, The Stanton Social to ensure we got a table and were served quickly.

On the walk over, we happened upon CK and his mother getting out of their cab. He was in the process of calling me. I said hi to him and was introduced to his mother. She wasn’t what I expected at all. I’m not sure what my expectations were, but she certainly surpassed them. She was gorgeous and very lively. I immediately loved her spirit and energy.

We continued to the other restaurant. Not only did we get a table quickly, we were also served champagne to start. They more than made up for the inconvenience. On top of that, I feel we upgraded restaurants, not downgraded.

His mother took the time to hug all the other boys and say hi. She knew two of them from Miami, where CK grew up, so there was some catching up to do. CK was rather reserved in regards to PDA. We didn’t kiss, but I got a hefty hug. He whispered in my ear how much he missed me. We held hands under the table nearly the entire meal.

It was very nice being with everyone. The conversation flowed, and there was rarely an awkward moment. Our food was excellent, and we all enjoyed our meal. I was worried I’d feel like an outsider, not because his friends wouldn’t include me, but because they all already knew each other. I was the new guy. I didn’t know the stories. I didn’t know the inside jokes. That would take time. Generally, until I’m comfortable, I get quiet. I was worried they would think I was antisocial, which clearly isn’t the case.

If they hadn’t done enough to ensure we had a great experience, our lovely waitress brought us a plate of complimentary donuts to make up for what happened at Essex and Beauty.

I really loved watching CK and his mother interact. She had a nickname she called him, and I found it adorable. They shared a lot of the same mannerisms. I watched her keep him in line (and made sure I took mental notes). They were incredible together, even with the hell they went through over that weekend to find him a new apartment. It was obvious the copious amounts of love they shared.

When we exited the restaurant, his mother returned to go to the bathroom. He took the opportunity to pull me in and give me the biggest kiss. It was quite a scene, but we didn’t care. His friends made comments, and he pointed out how he wouldn’t kiss me in front of his mother. Apparently, it made her slightly uncomfortable when he “flaunted his homosexuality.” I thought this was funny, because it’s the kind of thing I could hear coming out of my mother’s mouth.

I also learned that when I went to the restroom while we were eating, his mother expressed her approval to him. “He’s really cute,” he told me she added.

When she came back outside, we made plans to go back to his place and spend the rest of the evening on his roof watching the sunset. We stopped for a bottle of wine and some beers and went up to the roof with the batch of cookies I baked for his mother. Before heading up to the roof, CK and one of his friends were talking in the kitchen. That left myself and his mother in his living room to chat. I learned about all her dogs, as well as CK’s dog all living under her care. She told me how early she had to get up to take care of them the morning she flew out. We talked about what it takes to raise a dog and discussed CK’s desire to get a dog. He was constantly trying to take me shopping for a dog, but I couldn’t take care of one on my own. I wouldn’t have a dog until I lived with someone who would help me raise it. Maybe CK could fill that roll one day.

We spent a lot of time talking about cooking. CK’s friend was an avid cook, so we had a lot to chat about. I showed him my massive digital cookbook I created. I learned where CK inherited his lack of cooking skills. Apparently, his mother was a self-admitted non-chef. She barely cooked, so the two of them discussed their lack of skill in the kitchen, however, each had their specialty they could cook. I expressed my plan to teach CK how to cook, but ensure he wouldn’t cut his finger off again under my supervision.

After a while, a guy CK used to hook up with who lived in the building joined us. CK privately made a comment to me when we were downstairs how he may have seen us all through the window. He mentioned inviting him to join us, and I didn’t protest. My guard was up however. I had no idea how he’d treat me. After all, I was the one who got the man he had a crush on. They were almost roommates until it came to light he had a crush on CK, who told me he did not share the same feelings.

In the end, this guy was pretty cool. He wasn’t combative toward me in the slightest, and we actually got along. The conversation continued through the night. When this guy left, CK made an attempt to set him up with the friend who joined us from brunch. I really liked this guy. He seemed to get it. He was very realistic and had a great sense of humor. Of the friends I’d met so far, he was the one I felt I would get along with the best. When the old hookup left, CK’s friend called him to set up a date. This also killed two birds with one bullet. The old hookup would be tied up and would stay away from my man. Yes, I was getting territorial.

CK’s mother told us stories about him when he was a child, and I was really enjoying getting to know him, his mother and his friends. It was starting to get late, and CK and his mother still needed to get dinner. I needed to get home and get ready for work the next day. I too needed to eat something other than cookies. I said goodbye to CK’s mother with a big hug and CK walked me to the door.

We talked about how much we couldn’t wait until his mother left, not because either of us were tired of her, but because we were hungry for each other. We hadn’t slept together in days, and our animal instincts were growling. I said goodbye to him with a big kiss and made my way to the PATH to head home.

It was a very successful weekend. I had a great birthday, and apparently, I was a hit with CK’s mother. The whole day was a big success. I was all the more excited to be a bigger part of CK’s life, and I couldn’t wait for the next moment.

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Closing the Gap

Thursday morning I said goodbye to CK in a rush to get him to work on time. I wasn’t going to get to see him that night, but that didn’t stop us from texting each other. Thursday night, between two of my volleyball games, I text him, “Missing you hard babe.” He was on my mind, even though I was concentrating on the game at hand. He responded, and when the game was over, I told him I was off to the bar that sponsors us to celebrate.

While at the bar, around 10:00, I text him: “Do I get to see you tomorrow?” I stepped outside to call him, but I got no answer. I left him a sweet message, but got no response. When I got home at midnight, I called again, but he didn’t pick up. I did a little stalking to see if he checked in anywhere on Foursquare or if Twitter would give me any leads, but no dice. I went to be disappointed and a bit worrisome. Apparently, much to my chagrin, I’m carrying trust baggage from previous relationships.

I woke in the morning to find a text message: “Hey my baby! Sorry. Bloody phone died last night =/. Of course you get to see me. I kinda need to see you. And hold you. And kiss you. And bite you. Sleep over =].” It helped brighten my day. I responded back asking if he’d rather come to my place, and I could give him a ride back into the city in the morning. I wanted to surprise him by baking cookies since his mother was coming. I thought we could bake them together, especially since there were no sharp objects involved. He texted back explaining he really needed to stay at his place so he could get ready for his mother’s arrival. I said, “Okay.” He responded asking if I wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

I called him to explain and ruined my surprise. He told me how sweet I am. We made plans for me to head home after my coworker’s sendoff, bake and come back into the city. He also told me the bad news he received that he didn’t get the apartment in Brooklyn. He was so disappointed. I have to secretly admit I wasn’t all that disappointed. I felt bad for him because he was so excited about the place, but it would have been tough for us. The island of Manhattan would have separated us, not brought us together. Selfishly, I did a little research on one-bedroom apartments in Hoboken and sent him a few links.

I didn’t have the best day at work. For starters, I had to say goodbye to one of my favorite coworkers. Luckily, she wasn’t going far and would be working with CK. On top of that, my coworkers neglected to celebrate my birthday. I myself don’t really celebrate my birthday, but as a department, we always do something nice for birthdays. This was the second year in-a-row skipping mine. And lastly, when everyone went for send-off drinks, I had to stay behind and finish work.

When I finished working, I met everyone at the bar a few drinks in. I met my freshly ex-coworker’s gay roommate and told him my Grindr story. He was all too familiar with Grind and said, “Awww. Now I want a boyfriend!” It was cute and nice to have a gay man to chat about my man with.

When I had my fill, I left to head to CK’s. When I got to his place, I asked if I could vent for a few minutes. I told him about my bad day and my coworkers’ neglect on the part of my birthday. He comforted me and managed to greatly cheer me up. He gave me my birthday card. I read it, and I was nearly brought to tears. It was incredibly sweet and thoughtful. We only knew each other a short period of time, but he completely knew me at my core. For my birthday, he bought us a session to learn trapeze. I jumped up and gave him the biggest hug. I pulled him in and deeply kissed him. I was so happy to be with him. He was an amazing man, and I was incredibly lucky.

The other part of my birthday present was him. He offered up his body for me to use any way I wanted. I was so turned on by his thoughtfulness and his passion. We climbed into bed and began groping and making out and our bodies intertwined as we stripped our clothes off.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. He laid on his back, and I pulled out the lube. When we were both prepped, I climbed on top of him, and the passionate lovemaking began. He felt amazing. This was a special birthday present — One I wouldn’t soon forget. I was incredibly happy just to spend my birthday with him, but to also get birthday sex was truly the icing on the birthday cake.

When we both finished, we laid in each other’s arms cuddling. As it often times was the case with him, the cuddling was almost as good as the actual sex. I always felt safe and comfortable with him. I was crazy for this guy, and I wanted him to be mine and mine alone.

We laid in bed that night watching TV until we fell asleep together with my arms wrapped around him. He was my perfect little spoon. I always slept soundly with him. This was turning out to be quite a special relationship.

I woke in the morning to quite an alarm. Without warning, he removed my boxers and began blowing me. It felt INCREDIBLE! I was already naturally excited, with my morning wood at full staff, but his mouth felt amazing that morning. This was one of the best I’d ever received.

After some time, I took control and began to stimulate my manhood with my hand. The saliva left on it provided amazing lubricant for me to get myself to the edge. While I was doing this, he was busy manually stimulating my prostate with his finger inserted inside me. It didn’t take him long, but he found my spot. It’d been almost a year since someone found that spot and treated it just right. It was a matter of seconds before I exploded all over while my body writhed in spasm. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even think. I was incapacitated. This was the best orgasm I’d had in a loonnnnggg time.

When I tried to upright myself after laying paralyzed in the bed for some time, I could barely walk. My legs had gone limp and weren’t able to support my weight. I would have nearly collapsed if it wasn’t for the doorframe for me to grip for support.

My old roommate texted me to wish me a happy birthday that morning. He couldn’t believe I was awake that early. The plan for that day was to head to the pier, and he wanted me to head there early. It was 8:00am. I wasn’t heading there that early.

That morning he had to early because his mother was arriving at LaGuardia Airport. He had mentioned his desire for us to meet while she was in town, and I was quite excited by the prospect. This was a big deal, but it wasn’t. I was pretty relaxed in these types of situations, so it wasn’t stressful, but meeting his mother was no small deal. It showed he really cared about me enough to introduce us. I didn’t take it lightly and hoped it would come to fruition.

I said goodbye while he hopped in a cab to the airport and made my way back to Hoboken to get ready to celebrate another year on Earth.

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Vintage Closet

Before my trip to Washington DC, I started chatting with a few guys on Grindr. It was bad timing for the trip to come right after “meeting” them, but it would have to do. On my way back home, I made plans with a few guys over text for dates to get to know them.

One of the guys I was talking to was a bit older. He seemed like a great guy, and he was very interested in me. Of all the guys I started talking to, he texted the most. He seemed sweet, caring and attentive. While away, he asked how the blossoms were. He genuinely took an interest in me. He was texting me like a high school girl. I wasn’t annoyed. I was flattered. We made plans to grab a drink Wednesday evening after work.

Since Southern Drawl didn’t want to go to The Breslin, I proposed he and I meet there for a drink. It wasn’t far from my office, and it was pretty centrally located in Manhattan. We set a time, and I stayed at the office to kill time until he could make it there.

He ended up arriving early, and he texted me to let me know. I quickly left my office and speed-walked the ten blocks to the bar to meet him.

I wasn’t sure what I’d be meeting that night. From his picture, he looked like a very mature man. He had white hair, and he told me he was possibly getting a haircut before we met. I encouraged him to keep his longer hair since I liked it, but it was his hair. I didn’t know which hairstyle I’d be meeting.

I walked in to find him standing leaning against the wall. It wasn’t too difficult to pick him out of the crowd, however, he looked much older than I originally expected. I invited him to follow me to the bar and ordered us drinks. I managed to snag two bar stools just as someone was getting up to walk away.

We dove right into conversation about work. We both worked in advertising at one point, so we discussed that for a while. The more we talked, the more relaxed the conversation became. I didn’t see this conversation growing into a relationship, but he was a really nice guy. There was no reason why I couldn’t share a few rounds with a nice guy. I really didn’t think we were compatible.

Somehow we got into philosophical conversation talking about life in general. He really liked my outlook on life. I wasn’t putting on a show or anything. I was just being myself. He really responded well to this.

During our conversation, he came clean on his age and informed me he was 36. That’s how old Smiles was, so it wasn’t the issue for me. He did, however, look more like he was 42. I wasn’t sure if I believed him about his age. I wondered if he was lowballing it.

We started talking about family and his family house in the Hamptons. We got on the topic of coming out, and I told him how fresh I was to the gay world. He responded well to this and told me he was new himself. He came out to a few of his high school friends, and apparently it didn’t go well. For them, it became a problem of an identity crisis. They didn’t know who he was anymore. I told him how positive my experience was coming out and conveyed my sympathy about his experience. He also told me his family didn’t know either. It appeared I was more gay mature than he was. This was a first. This was a 36 year-old man who was still living in the closet. I didn’t think I could handle that. If he couldn’t accept himself by that age, the road was only going to get rockier as we went along.

After three rounds, the time came to go home. He expressed his desire to go on a second date, and I let on that this was a possibility. I didn’t want to lead him on and seem overly zealous about it, but I didn’t want to break his spirit. We walked to the corner and said goodbye with a hug. We exchanged a few texts after that, but obviously nothing ever materialized.

It wasn’t that late, so I decided to text M.E. and see if he wanted to come over. He did, and when he arrived at my apartment, we immediately went to the bedroom. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We stripped each other naked and got right down to things. There was a bit of foreplay and a lot of making out before I reached for the condoms and lube. Since being with him, I had unprotected sex with someone else. I needed to keep his safety in mind. While in DC, my results came back with no STDs and HIV negative, but I didn’t want to take any chances. We had amazing protected sex that night and fell asleep in a spooning position.

When we woke in the morning, we fooled around until we hopped in the shower. There, we had sex once again. I’m always horny in the morning, so this was even better than the night before. When we finished showering, we went back to the bed and had sex there. At one point, I even turned over and let him penetrate me. I felt I owed it to him. He was incredibly excited about it. This didn’t last long because, as he told me, he had a hard time keeping an erection after he’d been penetrated. I was okay with this, being as it’d been a long time since I bottomed.

We laid with each other, and I tried to finish myself off but to no avail. I had a dentist appointment to get to that morning, so I could no longer dawdle. I was already late the way it was. This was going to be a rough day. How was I ever going to concentrate on anything!?

M.E. gave me a ride to the dentist, and I gave him a kiss goodbye.

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Holiday Split

Thanksgiving came and went, and I didn’t see Smiles. However, it was too early in the relationship to invite him home to meet my family.

Home was relaxing and I was happy to see my family. I needed the time away from the craziness. In just a few days following Thanksgiving, I was moving.

On Thanksgiving, he called and left a message saying, “Heyyyy! What up? HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Call me later.” I didn’t get it until much later in the day because when I travel home, I am in a black hole of cell phone service.

I tried calling, but the phone rang unanswered. I decided I would try again later that evening. I was a little disappointed I couldn’t get ahold of him. I missed him.

On my way home from my aunt’s house, my sister and I decided to hit up Wal-Mart to get in early on the Black Friday deals. What a mistake! The one item I wanted was sold out in the first five minutes, and my sister needed non-Black Friday items. I stood in the front of the store witnessing the madness while she paid. I called Smiles once again, and this time he picked up.

He told me about his day and asked if I saw the pictures of the dogs on the beach he posted to Facebook. He told me everyone was relaxing and watching a movie after their turkey comas. I told him about my day with my family and my encounter with tryptophan. We talked about the insanity I was witnessing and about my shopping adventure coming the following day. He told me about his plans for the rest of the time he was out on Long Island.

My sister wanted to be back in Hoboken Saturday morning, so after a visit to my childhood babysitter for dinner, we made our way back. It was a long boring ride which I slept through most of. When I woke, we were nearing Hoboken. I called Smiles to see how his day was going.

He was home alone in front of a fireplace. Apparently his friends were all going to his ex-boyfriend’s place of business, so he decided to have an easy night staying in. I felt bad for him he was all alone, but I also knew he’d enjoy the rest and the full night’s sleep.

Saturday, I was trying not to think about Smiles. It was no use. I texted him, “Thinkin’ boutchu… Miss ya ;)” He responded with a picture of a very nice living room including a fireplace. “Dinner shall be served shortly. It’s a rough life.” I, in turn, responded with a picture of all the boxes I was packing in my room and added, “Thanks for rubbing it in. I too have a similar view ;)” “I see the resemblance,” he retorted.

Later that evening, I went out to the bar with a full pack of friends. I was trying to distract myself from the fact that I missed Smiles. It was working because I hadn’t seen many of them in quite some time. That doesn’t mean I didn’t send him a picture of the bar with the caption, “My new view.”

He sent me a picture of a dwindling fireplace with the caption, “Night time fire. Falling asleep.” With that, my phone started ringing. I walked outside so I could hold a decent conversation with him. He was home alone again and simply wanted to say goodnight.

I asked him if I could see him the following evening, Sunday, but he told me he was already booked solid. I was very disappointed because I thought I’d be getting to see him when he returned to Manhattan. He did leave a glimmer of hope we could possibly find time to meet up, but when Sunday came, the glimmer would be snuffed.

I tried to find time on Monday to see him, but once again he was busy. “Sounds like you’re booked up tomorrow, but want you/to see you. Miss you 😦 When can I see you?” I asked. He told me, “Hi. Just back into city. I think Thursday is my first night free. Would that work? Sorry it’s so far out. :(” I reminded me about my Thursday night volleyball game and my parents’ arrival to help me move into my new apartment. He then proposed the possibility of Wednesday night, but he’d have to get a ticket for me from his friend. I too had a super busy week in front of me, especially with a move on Wednesday, so that wasn’t going to work. It was looking like I wasn’t going to get to see him for some time, but I did appreciate him making an effort to see me.

I suggested we do lunch on Tuesday instead, to which he responded, “Yes. Lunches are easy.”

I was content. I wanted to see him sooner, but I could survive until lunch on Monday or Tuesday. We both have lives to live, and his career was just getting off the ground, so I didn’t want to interfere with that.

I thought back to my thoughts about inviting him home for Thanksgiving, and I realized I made the right decision. While I would have liked spending the time with him, the timing and logistics would have been awful. Introducing him to my family would have been tough and emotional. My family was already on edge, as this would be the first time celebrating Thanksgiving since the passing of my grandfather.Furthermore, I’d have to introduce him to my uber-Christian babysitter from growing up, as I couldn’t just leave him home while we all went to dinner.

Lastly, I would have sent quite a message about my thoughts regarding our relationship if I put him in the position to decline my invitation. We weren’t at the meet the parents stage, let alone the come home for the holidays stage. I made the right decision overall and was proud of myself for showing restraint.

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After an afternoon romp in the sheets, Smiles and I hopped on my motorcycle and rode out to Brooklyn for the day.

Smiles has a ’68 Ford Mustang parked in a garage out there, and it hadn’t been run in a few months. He wanted to make sure it would still start and take it around the block. I was thrilled because I was finally going to get to see the car! I had a crush on that car from the moment I learned of its existence, and Smiles knew this. I thought it made him sexier, and it turned me on.

Smiles rode on the back of my motorcycle clutching onto me as we rode over the Williamsburg Bridge and around Brooklyn. It was the first time had gone for a ride longer than a few blocks. I really enjoy riding with him on the bike.

We arrived at the garage and removed the cover from the car. I immediately took my phone out and began snapping pictures with my phone. I put my bike in his parking spot while he pulled the car out of the garage. I tossed my helmet in the back seat and hopped in. I immediately reached over and gave his thigh a squeeze to show him my appreciation and excitement.

As we drove down the street, every single person we passed by was enamored by the car. A kid stopped in the middle of the street with his mouth gaping as he watched the car come closer until he realized he was in the middle of the street. One man even took out his camera and snapped pictures while we sat at a stoplight. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with a crush on this car.

He proposed we grab lunch somewhere fun, so we scoped out the neighborhood as we drove. We found a parking space and decided to walk around a bit until we found a pub to grab food in, Spike Hill. We settled in, and as per usual, Smiles started chatting up the waitress. After we ordered, unbeknownst to me, he asked her, “Do you know anywhere in the neighborhood where he could get his haircut fixed.” I wasn’t thrilled with paying to have my hair fixed. I was complacent to just let it grow out, but Smiles was pretty persistent.

She gave us directions to a barber up the street, Brooklyn General Barber Emporium, and I begrudgingly agreed to partake in the hair repair excursion.

We got to the barber shop, and from the looks of it, I was a little worried. They weren’t exactly welcoming either. There was a long wait, so we decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood to kill time.

Smiles was interested in opening a bar in the area, so we scoped out some possible locations and realtors. We also popped into some cool hipster shops.

While in one of them, there were two gay men working together making a hysterical fuss. “You got to open one, so I want to open one too. It’s only fair.” “Is this the hunter green one?” “No, stupid! That one is just green.” “Well what about this one?” “That one is celery.” I couldn’t stop laughing at their commentary. I also noticed a poster on the wall I found very humorous. I was very close to buying it, if only I had someone I could give it to who would actually display it.

The time came to go back to the barber. It was getting dark, so I told Smiles we didn’t have to do it that evening. But once again, he was pretty insistent.

Finally it was my turn in the chair. I ended up with the female stylist who asked what I wanted done. She was extremely nice and full of energy. However, I use the term she loosely. I couldn’t be sure 100%, but I had my suspicions she wasn’t always a she. Regardless, she was a doll. Smiles stood in the wings while I explained what happened and what I wanted done. “Oh honey! What happened to you!? I could have done a better job drunk! You want me to butch you up?” she said. “YES!” Smiles said from behind me.

Once she started, Smiles returned to his seat intently watching her cut my hair. I found it extremely cute and adorable how he took an interest in my appearance. She asked me, “Is that your boyfriend?” I simply replied, “Yes.” Then she excused herself for the question on the off-chance I wasn’t actually gay. I told her, “No harm, no foul.”

In the end, Smiles and I were both very happy with my new haircut. I thought I was going to be very uncomfortable with it since it was so much shorter than I usually cut my hair, but I was thrilled and shocked. She really did a great job fixing my cut.

We also took the walk back to the car as an opportunity to discuss the status of my barber. He agreed that miss used to be a mister.

On the way to the garage, Smiles proposed going to see the new Twilight movie. I was surprised, because usually at this point, I get the boot. I thought I was going home after I dropped him off because he’d have plans with a friend, but that wasn’t the case. I explained to him I’d never seen any of the Twilight movies, so I was worried I’d be a little lost, but I told him I was willing if he got me caught up. He took the time to explain what I’d missed. We rode back to the garage, swapped the car for the bike and made our way back to Manhattan…

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Coffee Break

Just as I was whittling the roster down, I felt the need to continue to build it up. Out of all the candidates, I only found one worth revisiting, Pillow. After what started as a bad date, I was happy with how it ended.

I still needed other options and distractions. I have a problem of diving in head first when I find a guy I like. If I have a few distractions, the chances of me doing that are far less.

I started talking to a very attractive man. He was very responsive, and we got into a great conversation. He’s a 34 year-old trainer in Manhattan who lives in Hell’s Kitchen — All pluses in my book. I also noticed his distinctive tattoos and found them very attractive. Strangely enough, he reminds me a lot of the first guy I dated, Broadway. And, in another twist of irony, his gym was a block from Broadway’s apartment. I walked past it hundreds of times. He mentioned his workout regime and how intimidated most guys were by it. I said, “They’re just weak!” He replied, “Oh. I like you! And, you’re my just type!” We talked about meeting after we were comfortable with each other.

Earlier that day, my boss had a meeting with my department and told us he wanted us to meet a new hire at 2:30. This was right about the time I was talking to the trainer about meeting for coffee. I suggested we meet at Starbucks to say hi, but it would have to wait until I met the new guy. When 3:30 rolled around, and he was still in my boss’s office, I decided I wasn’t going to wait around any longer. It was pouring that day, so we picked a Starbucks half way between us. I grabbed my umbrella and made my way towards him after postponing coffee almost an hour and a half. When I arrived, it was a packed house. It was a small Starbucks to begin with, but everyone was trying to escape the rain, customer or not.

I managed to find him in the crowd. We chatted while waiting for our coffees. I liked him. I felt very relaxed around him. We talked about work, family, what we did for fun, vacation, travel, etc. He was going skydiving in a week, so we had an interesting conversation about that. I told him about all the traveling I’d done so far this year, and he told me about his trip to Fire Island that coming weekend.

The only snag in the whole conversation was age. He wasn’t thrilled I was only 27. “I find myself being attracted to younger men lately though,” he said. He kinda shrugged it off as if to say, “I’ll give you a chance.”

The time came when I needed to head back to the office. He was disappointed I had to cut it short, but I promised him we’d hang out when he got back from Fire Island. With that, I gave him a hug and said goodbye. He said he’d text later that evening. I was thrilled.

He seemed like a really great guy. On top of that, he was very masculine and very sexy. I was looking forward to seeing him again. I had two dates in a week’s time that ended in success! This may have made all the bad dates worth it. That evening, we texted each other. It was a fun and playful conversation — All progress towards a real date.

The next evening, when I was heading home earlier than expected (see Friday’s post), I called to see if he wanted to grab dinner. When he picked up the phone, he said, “Hey, I’m about to grab dinner with some friends.” Can I call you back later?” And, like a true man, he called me that night. We had a great conversation, and once again, we talked about a second date upon his return to Manhattan…

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Check Please

Day three of my dating marathon arrived and I still had no prospects for second dates. I was definitely widdling down the roster, but I wasn’t finding the quality I was hoping to find. That Tuesday, I planned a date with one of the guys who was particularly interested in me when I was texting him from Ocean City, Maryland. We started chatting on Grindr before I left for vacation, and we continued to do so when I returned.

We agreed to meet up for a bite following work. He worked as a concierge at a hotel near my office, so we picked something somewhat local to both of us. When work ran over for me, he decided to run a few errands. He hit up the gym and then moved onto a manicure. Already I was worried he was going to be yet another flamboyant ‘mo, but I would give him the benefit of a doubt.

After chasing him around to different locations, we finally met on the street corner. He was not what I was expecting. His pictures on Grindr portrayed him as a mysterious and sexy tattooed guy, but in reality, he looked kinda dorky. I knew immediately this was not going anywhere. If I was smart, I would have suggested a pub right then and there and made it a one drink date, but I wasn’t quick enough. I let him decide on the location. He chose Bare Burger on the East Side.

We sat at a table in the restaurant and ordered our beers while we decided what we wanted to eat. The conversation mainly started with work and ended with work. It was all he knew to talk about. I learned about all the hotels he’s worked at and all the perks he gets. I heard about the free Broadway shows he left half way through because Broadway wasn’t quite his thing. Once again, someone was sitting in front of me trying to impress me instead of just being real. I don’t just want to know what your job can do for my social life. He also talked about people getting starstruck in his line of business, but then proceeded to name all the famous people he’s hung out with. He was a walking contradiction. On top of this, he lived on the opposite side of the island we like to call Manhattan. Astoria, Queens would be a very long ride from Hoboken, NJ.

I couldn’t wait for the date to be over. When he excused himself to go to the bathroom, I flagged down the waitress and asked her to bring us the check. I gazed out the window people watching hoping for this date to end like the ripping off of a band aid. The only saving grace was how tasty the food was.

When he came back, we split the bill and started to walk towards the PATH/his subway. When we got to a crossroads in which we were heading in different directions, I said goodbye with a hug. He suggested we go out again. I blankly said, “Yea. We could do that.”

Just before getting to the PATH, I received a text from him saying, “Get home safe! It was nice meeting you!… shorty ;)” He was taller than me by a few inches, but did he really just call me shorty? “I just responded back with a “likewise.” The next day, I received the followup text: “How’s it going?” Of course, I didn’t respond. And that was the end of the concierge. NEXT!…

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