Posts Tagged manroulette

Popping the Question

Another night went by, and I was still in the dark about where I stood in Smiles‘ eyes. He had to be somewhat interested, otherwise why would he be sticking around. However, the question remained, was he interested enough for me?

Out of nowhere, Smiles asked me to come with him to see a Christmas play in New Jersey. One of the men he worked with on his movie wrote a spoof on the Nutcracker and thought to ask me to come with him.

I was so frustrated! I was getting mixed signals in every direction. He didn’t invite me to casual Christmas parties, but he invited me to be his guest for a stage-play. I graciously accepted the invitation, but informed him I had a doctor’s appointment I would have to change if we wanted to get a ride from his friends instead of taking the train.

I managed to change my appointment, so I planned to just make my way to his apartment when I finished. I called him as I walked out of my office, but he told me he was still working. I had nowhere to kill time after the doctor really, but I didn’t exactly feel welcome to go down to Smiles’ apartment and hang out while he finished what he needed to do. I figured I would walk around Union Square and try to find something to kill time.

My appointment ended later than expected, and when I called Smiles after, he told me he was wrapping up work, and I could come by. I asked him if he wanted anything from Starbucks and walked towards his apartment.

We didn’t have a lot of time before we were supposed to be picked up, but just enough time to chat a bit and move a few more of his boxes to his storage unit.

When we got picked up, the driver/writer asked me what my connection was. “I know [Smiles],” I responded. I was purposely ambiguous because I myself would like to know the answer to that question. When he asked for clarification, Smiles spoke up and said, “We’re dating.” I was happy to hear him say it publicly for once, but I still didn’t quite know what that meant. At least it was verbalized. He then elaborated as to how long we’ve been dating. He pinpointed it to around the time of the NYC screening of his film. In my mind, I did the math. That was about a month after I met Smiles. Apparently I was one month ahead of him as far as our timelines were concerned. I’d already journeyed out to The Hamptons to see his film once before that night.

The rest of the ride was casual. Smiles even playfully reached his hand down and tickled my crotch. “That’s going to make for an interesting car ride,” I said to him. Smiles sat between myself and one of his friends I’d met twice before. Some in the car were joking about Jersey, and it was interesting to see Smiles defending it now that I’ve given him a more positive opinion about it. I kinda got to know his friend a little better, and I thought he was a good guy. I liked knowing that I could get along well with one of Smiles’ best friends.

When we arrived in the town, we all went out to dinner. It was pleasant, and I met a few new people. Over the course of the meal, somehow it came up that Smiles used to be a dancer. He’d taken classes throughout childhood. This was news to me. Even his good friend didn’t know about it. When I went to make a comment, Smiles jokingly shushed me out of embarrassment. He told me I wasn’t allowed to bring it up again.

We got to the theater and took our seats. Our group was all over the auditorium. Smiles and I were nowhere near anyone else. Before the show started, we cracked a few jokes and made some sexual innuendos about the Nutcracker on the stage curtain. I liked the playfulness I was witnessing in Smiles for once.

The show was far from good, but I had fun with it. I wasn’t expecting a Broadway hit. Smiles was nonplussed.

We got a ride back, and swapped Smiles’ friend for another. When we were getting in the car, Smiles had the friend sit in the middle. I’m significantly taller than anyone in the car, so I wasn’t going to sit in the middle, but the fact that Smiles wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice to sit next to me I found VERY off-putting. I sat next to a stranger, which I’m comfortable with, instead of the man I was dating for an hour-long car ride.

I became the topic of conversation once again. This time it was about my origins. They were surprised to learn I grew up on a farm. “Oh. A farm boy. Better hold onto this one [Smiles],” the driver exclaimed. The rest of the ride home was casual as well. They were kind enough to drop us at my apartment since Smiles was spending the night.

It was late, so we immediately began to get ready for bed. “What’s with you and the purple underwear?” he said. I informed him it was navy. I showed him my one pair of purple underwear and said, “This is purple.” I continued with, “What? Don’t you like it?” He told me he did. He was just surprised I had such colorful underwear. I hardly find navy boxer briefs all that arresting, but I went with it.

We hopped into bed and spooned for a little while we chatted about a few random things. I wasn’t going to see Smiles for some time after that night because of the Christmas break, so there was no way I was making it through the night without getting my answer on where we were. Somehow the topic of chatroulette and manroulette came up. I explained to him how it worked and told him it was how I met the first guy I dated.

As time passed, we turned out the light. We were still snuggling when I finally built up the courage to say, “So where are we?”

“Somewhere between Hoboken and SoHo,” he joked. I responded, “That’s an avoiding answer if I ever heard one.”

After a pause, Smiles said, “I can’t be in a serious relationship right now. When I am, I put a lot of myself into it, and I can’t let myself do that. I need to concentrate on my career right now. But, I really enjoy hanging out with you and spending time with you.”

I took a second to absorb what he just said to me. It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but it also wasn’t a crushing blow. My response was: “I was pretty much okay with whatever answer you had for that question. I just needed to know where I stood. I would like to continue to move forward, but I’m not in any rush or anything.” He knew I wasn’t thrilled with his answer. I don’t know if it was out of fear I would leave or if he truly was concerned with my feelings on the situation, but he added, “If it becomes a problem, let me know.”

We cuddled some more and went to sleep. I was relieved to finally have the answer. I felt a huge weight lift off my back. I was also horny. I tried to seduce him. “If you keep rubbing me, I’m never going to fall asleep,” he retorted. I quickly quipped, “Maybe that’s what I’m going for.”

I didn’t keep putting up a fight. I knew it was useless. He was stubborn enough that he’d certainly win that battle. I made myself comfortable to sleep and tried not to dwell on the news I’d just received. It was time to sleep. Worrying about what he said would only get in the way of that. Tomorrow was another day…

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A Role Reversal

After all the drama between N and NC, I still hadn’t heard the end of it. These two really knew how to get under each other’s skin after one awkward hookup. I think it’s because they pretty much are the same person. I didn’t quite get it. But I also had nothing to do with it, so I didn’t need to get into it.

“I’m extremely p*ssed off at that prissy prick,” N typed to me. I told him he shouldn’t let it get to him. It’s over. He’s just one person. “I can’t stand him!” he replied. I tried to console him by telling him, “Well luckily you don’t have to deal with him anymore… You blocked him and he’s in another state.”

We changed the subject to talk about the night before. He asked how yoga was. I explained that yoga was cancelled, so I went out for the night. “Where’d you go? Get sh*t-faced? A date ?!?!?” he asked. I told him I just stayed in Hoboken, and I was trying to curb my drinking. “Gonna ignore the date question?” he replied. Quite frankly, I was ignoring the date question. It was none of his business. I recognized our situation and the heightened sensitivity, so I didn’t feel the need to get into it with him. Why did he need to know so badly if I was on a date. So I decided I was going to test the waters. I wasn’t on a date at all. I went to the movies with my good friend D. But, there was no reason I couldn’t insinuate a date. I wasn’t lying. I wanted to know where N’s head was at.

“Sorry… Didn’t see the question. I dunno what you’d call it,” I said, playing dumb. Then he decided to dig deeper: “Did you guys go out or did you go over his house?When I got home and turned my phone on I saw you were on Grindr. You were a # of ft. farther than your house.” Wow! Was he stalking me now? I know I did the same thing before, but I never let him know that until we broke up, and I used it as information to get him to tell me the truth about what he was doing and where he was going when we were still dating. “Are you Grindr stalking me?” I asked.

“R E L A X,” he answered. Trying to keep things light, I said, “Hahahah. That was said with a smile.” I have to admit, I was having a little fun here. We were broken up a week now, and I was enjoying witnessing him go through some of the same crap I went through weeks earlier. “When I’m home, you’re usually the first/second guy to show up from my favorites,” he said, trying to make an excuse for himself. I told him I didn’t go to his house, and I didn’t meet him on Grindr. I didn’t really appreciate all the comments he was making about me on Grindr lately, however. I know his sarcastic style, but he should have known how they would be received in our relationship’s climate. “You’re starting to make me sound like I’m a Grindr whore…” I stated.

Then he got defensive and said he never assumed we met on Grindr or went to his house. This is where the conversation started going downhill fast.

Me: But you asked if I went to his house…

N: So? You’re the one that told me you went to someone’s house the last face to face we had, so I asked.

Me: Haha. That wasn’t the last face to face we had. And I never said I went to someone’s house. And, if I recall you told me you went to someone’s house in the same conversation. Wait… Sorry. That was catty. Please ignore that. That has no relevance in this convo. Sorry.

N: Yeah, you can eventually be a catty c*nt when we’re further away from what we just went through and better best friends, but now — calm down the CCness. But don’t apologize.

Me: I don’t ever want to be a catty c*nt. Not who I am. I really didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I even brought it up. Just seems like you were asking a lot of ?s. So anyway… How was your last night?

Once again, I found myself trying to change the subject to something more neutral. It was frustrating we had to go through this every time we talked. I hoped desperately things would change, and we would get to a civil place. I wanted to be his friend. I liked his company and enjoyed spending time with him. He was a great guy to be around. But, he did a lot of sh*t to hurt me, and I would need to learn not to resent him if this was going to work. Hopefully, with time, it would.

He brought the conversation back to my night out: “So tell me about this guy… If we’re going to be friends…” I really didn’t want to tell him about it, even if I really did have a date. I said, “We’ll get there… We’re not there yet. Sorry.”

I asked him how his day was going, and he complained about his boss. “Other than that, a guy at the gym freaked me out by walking into my shower and me going to the front desk in a towel about it…” he said.

WHAT!? This could only happen to N. I never heard such stories from someone about the gym, especially in Hoboken. Was I that naive to the gay world. Was all this crap happening right under my nose? Or was this not the norm and something that happened only to people who provoked such behavior. I asked if he ever interacted with the guy before? “Maybe I looked at him while working out once? He was older and Spanish,” he responded. It was completely creepy. I’m learning more every day how often this sort of behavior happens, but it is still a complete turnoff for me. It made me quite glad I don’t make eye-contact at the gym and have never witnessed any behavior like that. “Your stories have made me never want to go to the downtown Hoboken gym again! I exclaimed. “I’d feel dirty just walking in the door.”

I told him I don’t quite get it. He didn’t really have a “gay air” about him, and it’s not that he wasn’t attractive. But still, how do they know he’s not straight and going to turn around and deck them. I feel I’m at least fairly attractive, and no one ever acted this way towards me. His response: “I guess I look at guys? Maybe he’s seen me on Grindr?”

At this point we both went to lunch, but later in the day, I got another message from him. “Thanks you tall ass bro you. Going on dates with boys…. Psssshaaa. LOL. JK. I’m being silly because I’m in a food coma.” REALLY!? Are we still really not over me going out with one guy. At least I knew where things stood, even if there never was a date to begin with. He was fired up for some reason, but he wasn’t explaining why. And then he did.

He typed, “Btw. I’m gonna send you a picture, and I don’t want you to respond to it. I just want you to know that I took offense to it. I’m not judging you or holding it against you.” Just then he sent me a passage from my blog. “Sorry I couldn’t do it for you, and you had to resort to your spank bank. And our sexual chemistry? Are you kidding me? I don’t want to talk about it. I’m over it.” He was insulted because I said we didn’t have a perfect sex-life.

I reminded him this was something we discussed earlier and suggested we discuss it again because he was reading it out of context. I said, “Things weren’t always perfect… We were 2 tops… Not easy for either of us to ‘take’ for example.” He interrupted me and asked that we not talk about it, but I wasn’t on board with that. He didn’t get to say his piece to me and then drop it. He had to let me explain. I told him it wasn’t fair. He jumped in and said, “Um…. What’s not fair is referring to our intimate relationship for all the world to read, regardless of not disclosing any personal name information.” I reminded him of our earlier conversation about this and how he didn’t care if I continued to write the blog. “At the time I said that I didn’t think you and I were going to be in the position we are now. Fine, continue,” he said.

I began again: “It takes time to build sexual chemistry. We were learning what turned each other on. We were exploring. The sex was good.” He asked me to try to explain the context of resorting to my “spank bank” to get me over my “final hump,” why we didn’t have “amazing sexual chemistry,” and how I thought he “felt the same way.” “All the while no less than one paragraph right before you go on to explain one of the best Os of my life,” he added.

I began once again, “Ok. The spank bank… We talked about this. You talked about thinking about the best porn that turned me on when we were hooking up. That’s what I was doing. When I was with you I was always there. Always in the moment. Did I have to think about how hot it would be if we hooked up in a locker room shower like I had seen in a porno sometimes? Yes. Yes I did. I don’t want you to think I wasn’t enjoying having sex with you. To be honest, if it wasn’t good, we prob wouldn’t have been having it nearly as often.”

He interrupted, “Well, I’ll tell you that’s the way you come off. And, I don’t really want to think about it anymore.”

I told him, “You’re taking offense to it, when it’s just the reality of beginning to have sex with a new person. You have to learn from each other and find what makes the other guy go crazy. That is all I meant by that comment. If I didn’t like having sex with you, do you think I would have tried to drag you to my room last week? That’s all I’m going to say about it… I just wanted you to let me explain.” He responded, “Thank you for explaining. This topic is closed from my perspective now.”

We talked some more, and I tossed out the idea of going out to dinner some night, just as friends. He responded well and said that would definitely be something he’d be interested in.

Of course, he didn’t bring my clothes over that night once again. Also, that night it was my turn to stalk him on Grindr. He wasn’t home like he said he was going to be. Later, I found out he went to dinner with a friend. He probably did something with his “friend” since he didn’t seem to come home according to Grindr, but that was no longer any of my concern. And it didn’t bother me one bit (other than I wanted my clothes back).

And me. What was I doing? For the first time in months, I went back on manroulette. I felt pathetic. How did I resolve myself to that site for so long. That would probably be the last time I visited the site, if even just for the sake of my ego.

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The Repeat Offender

It’s amazing what the power of suggestion can do to you. All it takes is for someone to put an idea in your head, and you are rendered incapacitated. It can consume you and become all you think about. This power was wielded over me by who other than the 40 y.o.

Following my birthday weekend, I reserved Sunday night to sit my single ass on the couch and catch up on the DVR. I was all but finished watching everything I taped the week before when I got a a text message from the 40 y.o. “Recover from your birthday present? Want another bj?”

That’s all it took. The seed was planted. My mind raced back to the last time he came by, and all I could think about was how good it felt. I told him to come by my apartment. When he asked if I could come to his place, I became a little uneasy. I wasn’t sure about not being on my home turf. He wanted to host because he was doing laundry and packing for a business trip the next day and he “figured I’d take a break to blow you. lol.”

I explained to him I felt more comfortable in my own setting. To which he responded, “Understand. It’ll just have to be a raincheck then. I’ll be back in a few days.”

That’s where he had me. I lost the upper hand, and he knew it. I would either have to come to him, or I would have to wait for the blowjob that was just planted into my brain.

I tried my hand at being clever to lure him to my apartment. “Put a load in… Then I’ll put a load in, and you’ll be back just in time to switch it over. You know you want to.”

My tricks didn’t work. “I have to be smart. I have to be up for an early train. Guess I’ll have to watch porn and spank it.”

We sparred back-and-forth with our words, both trying to convince the other to come to them. Just when I had him convinced to make the 7 block trek to my apartment, one of my roommates came home. I was so close, and yet so far away. With that, I finally agreed to go to his place. He lives in the same building as one of my friends, and I needed to drop something off at her apartment.

When I arrived, he gave me a hug. He proceeded to show me around his apartment, the whole time playing with himself in his gym shorts. Finally he pulled me into his bedroom and sat me down on the bed. He pulled my shorts down just enough so he could get working on me. I took his shirt off and began to play with his nipples. We were both enjoying ourselves. He pulled off his shorts and sat naked on the hardwood. His member was BIG just as I remembered from the first time, however, he never got fully erect. I remembered this from our first encounter and how worried I was it would happen to me at the age of 40.

Then he did something that both shocked and disgusted me. He pulled out a small bottle, untwisted the cap, held it to his nose and heavily snorted in each nostril. I don’t have a lot of experience with drugs, so I wasn’t fully aware of what was going on.

I didn’t really want to look at him anymore. I told him to come up on the bed so I could lay back. He disagreed and said he wanted to stay on the floor. I complied.

It wasn’t much longer before my whole body was tingling, and I was ready to finish. I let him know how close I was by the volume of my moaning. He pulled me in deeper and took everything I had to give. When I was depleted, he commented, “Wow, that was a lot!”

I responded with the only thing I could think of. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

He walked into his bathroom to rinse his mouth as I got dressed. When he came back into the bedroom, he pulled on his shorts and shirt and said, “I’ll walk out with you. I need to take the dog for a walk.”

As we walked down the stairs, we discussed the noise level of his neighbors. I began to wonder about his noise level. That’s when the thought crossed my mind, how many of “us” are there in his roster?

We got outside, and I said goodbye to both him and the dog. On that walk home, I was still feeling euphoric from the bj, but I also decided this was the last time I would have a sexual encounter with the 40 y.o. It was fun, but there were too many things about the whole situation that made me uncomfortable.

After that, he began stalking me on Grindr — heavily. After some time, I blocked him so he could no longer track my whereabouts. For a little while, I would respond to his text messages, but as of late, I’ve taken to simply ignoring him. I’m dreading the day I run into him on the street.

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Florida Fun, The Sequel

If you’re just joining us, read Friday’s post before continuing…

The next morning, after only 3 hours of sleep, I woke and ran a few miles with D. I gave him the full debrief of what happened after he went to bed. He was very happy I was enjoying the new freedom I was allowing myself.

We got back and relaxed by the pool a bit. I texted Boston asking his plans for the day. He was heading to the beach after grabbing breakfast. Since the girls ate while D and I ran, we joined Boston and his friend for breakfast at The Hotel Breakwater. It was very casual and not awkward, however, I was fighting the beginning of a nasty hangover. Still I soldiered on. We discussed dinner the night before and all the stories that were swapped. Boston’s friend gave us all a new term to use referring to gays. “Pickle.” It was already part of my vernacular and fully utilized during my morning run and the remainder of my Florida trip.

We strolled down to the beach and met up with the girls. I hoped to get a minute to talk to Boston. I felt  we should discuss the night before because I didn’t want things to get awkward. I was very attracted to him but also valued his friendship. We never got to chat exclusively. We did, however, have a very candid group conversation with D and his girlfriend about sexual encounters, oral sex, semen, etc. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I love how comfortable and open my friends are — like a breath of fresh air.

When we had to get on the road down to The Keys, we decided to take Boston and his friend to La Sandwicherie on our way out of town. His friend loved us. She asked, “Ok guys. Where’s our next vacation gonna be?”

Finally, the time came to say goodbye. We dropped them off near the hotel, and the best I got was a handshake reaching from the front seat to the back. I wanted at least a hug, but it would have been a full spectacle to get out of the car and do so.

I spent the next three and a half hours in a car with nothing to look at but wide open water. Of course, I texted with Boston the whole time. I was trying to be flirtatious without being overt. It seemed to be working… to an extent. I was having the conversation I wanted to have in person over text. Probably not the best solution.

Once we settled in at The Bahama House in Key West, D and his girlfriend went to the rehearsal dinner of a friend’s wedding. K and I were on our own for dinner. Halfway through, she scolded me to stop texting Boston. I obliged, but was in the middle of expressing to him my relationship with Broadway was over: It was just inconvenient timing to end it before my trip. He was worried that he was the catalyst. I reassured him I was having problems well before I met him, and he knew that.

We met up with the wedding party following dinner. Apparently I wasn’t the only ‘mo associated with this wedding. Everyone told me I needed to meet this great guy. Word to the wise. Not all gay men are compatible just because they are attracted men. While everyone told me we needed to meet, no one actually took the time to introduce us. This is partly my fault because I insisted I get more lubricated before I speak to him, but once I was relatively tipsy, no one made the effort.

The next night D and his girlfriend went to the wedding. K and I found a spot for dinner. At this point I curbed my texting to Boston. D’s girlfriend started texting me about the ‘mo at the wedding. She told me he was anxious to meet and we should meet them when it was over and all go out. When we arrived, he and I were finally introduced. It couldn’t have been more awkward. After a few minutes, he excused himself to go chat with friends. I have to admit, while not interested, my ego was a little bruised.

When the time came to head home, I was trying to coordinate with Boston if we would be traveling along the same route at any point. We were flying out of the same airport and his connection took him through Newark, where I would be landing. I called him to get details and tried to work it out for me to swing by their gate at the airport. Timing never allowed for it.

Days later, Boston and I were skyping. That day, I was psyching myself up to ask him out on a date. I knew it was a dumb idea since we lived in different cities, but I also didn’t see why I shouldn’t give it a shot. After chatting for a bit, he was ready to sign off. My window of opportunity was closing. I asked him if I could take him to dinner sometime. He responded, “Yea. Let me just hop on my private jet.” To which I responded, “There’s no reason why I couldn’t visit Boston some time.”

This was followed by a looonnngggg pause. I could see how uncomfortable the proposition made him. However, he graciously responded, “Sure. I’d be down for that.”

The potential of this was exciting, but certainly more one-sided than I had hoped. After talking with him more, I realized a relationship was never going to happen. At that point, I was able to step back from the situation and realize he was a much better fit for the “friend zone.” I stopped my advances and started talking to him like a true friend, and that’s when I started getting more positive feedback.

When a business trip would land me in Boston, I had the opportunity to make good on my proposition for dinner, but that’s another post for another day.

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Freedom in Florida

Before ever stepping on a plane to Florida, I told the friends I would be traveling with I was giving myself a hall pass. If Broadway went to Barcelona alone, possibly with a bottle of lube, then I was going to Florida with some new found freedom.

I didn’t break up with him prior to my trip. If you recall from my previous post, he wasn’t my “boyfriend” either. I never heard the phase “I love you” pass his lips. We had been dating for almost 10 months, but I no longer had any indication this was destined for the long term.

I have never been single and gay. I met Broadway, and shortly after, I came out. I needed to give myself the freedom to date. I needed to explore and experience. Is this healthy for a relationship? Was I setting myself up to cheat on the man I was dating for the previous 10 months? Maybe. But was it something I needed to do? Yes. Yes, it was.

Before heading to South Beach, Miami, Boston and I discussed meeting up. When my friend K and I arrived, we checked into Essex House and went down to the beach. I noticed a guy who vaguely resembled Boston. I pointed him out to K, and she said, “Ooooo. Go for it! He’s hot!” But when he walked down to the water with a female companion, the chemistry between them seemed more than just friends. Their body language suggested they were dating. Furthermore, this guy was wearing what I would later come to describe as “straight shorts.”

It wasn’t until I overheard their conversation as they were leaving the beach that I realized it was him. We were texting each other from 10 feet away for over 2 hours and didn’t even realize it.

Later that evening, K and I walked over to the sister hotel for happy hour. The other 2 in our party would be arriving any minute, but we were anxious to start drinking. I texted Boston and told him that if he could find us, I would buy him a drink. He was staying at this sister hotel, The Clevelander. After spotting us, he joined in our happy hour pitchers. Over the course of the next couple of hours, I drank about 4 pitchers. I was truly cutting loose.

Before this trip, I had no plans of attempting anything with Boston. He was just a solid friend. We were going to meet up for a drink or two, but after K made the comment on the beach, the possibility of more was planted in my head.

When my 2 other friends arrived, we discussed dinner plans at The Royal at The Raleigh and extended an invitation to Boston and his friend.

At dinner, I made a bit of a fool of myself. I had quite a bit to drink. When we finished eating, we walked back to the Clevelander for a night cap.

At the bar, I bought a round of beers. Boston tapped the top of my bottle to make it overflow. The only problem was I didn’t have a strong grip on my beer and it shattered on the floor. Minutes later, I retaliated, only to have the same thing repeat again.

After a short while, Boston’s friend went off to bed, shortly followed by my 3 friends. Boston and I were still sitting at the bar chatting when some guy came along interrupting us talking about real estate. Boston turned to me and told me to get rid of him. This was a window of opportunity. I was drunk and Boston is hot. I started getting a bit physical with him, rubbing his leg and petting his neck so the guy would leave. Finally, he got the hint and took off.

After my third trip to the bathroom, I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. We strolled along the beach and found a comfortable spot to chat. We talked about careers and futures for some time before the authorities chased us. We moved our discussion to a wall at the edge of the sand. At one point, we were both just awkwardly staring at the ocean when I turned and kissed him. He immediately responded, and we proceeded to make out for what could have been a half hour. People passed by making cat calls, but we continued as if no one was there.

Things started to get hot. My hands were up his shirt feeling the chest I admired on the beach earlier that day. Finally, I put my hands down his pants and felt how much he was enjoying it. And he did the same. Me being 6’2″ and him being no taller than 5’6″, I picked him up and leaned back against the wall so I didn’t have to hunch over anymore. I was really enjoying myself. He was a great kisser and the wandering hands on both parties was rather pleasing. At one point, he pulled back and said, “But you have a boyfriend.” This didn’t stop me from going back in. Between kisses, I was able to utter, “He’s not my boyfriend, remember?” He was torn about the issue. He was obviously enjoying himself, but he didn’t want to get in the middle of a relationship.

After a while, I asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private. He pointed out we were both sharing rooms. I noticed the uneasiness on his face. I responded back, “I’m not trying to have sex with you. I’m not that easy. I just don’t want to stand here making out in public…” At this point, I could see his level of comfortability dropped significantly, so we went back to our separate rooms. I sent him a text explaining my enjoyment and my respect for him.

Stay tuned. The remainder of the trip will have to wait ’til Monday’s post.

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Finding a Friend in the Oddest of Places

The whole time I was dating Broadway, I was still cruising Manroulette. Many consider this cheating, but I don’t. We all have needs and urges. I was simply taking care of that. Call it cheating. Call it selfish. Call it what you will. But it worked for me. I was always present in the moment when I was with Broadway, but there were also many nights spent alone while he worked late.

I wasn’t going on there purely to get off either. I had one gay friend at this point. He was in a serious relationship, living with his boyfriend after coming out just two years before. I didn’t think we could relate on a lot of my issues/questions.

One October night on there, I came across a guy, Boston, who had a great smile. I immediately stopped “nexting” and tried very hard to engage him so he wouldn’t “next” me. We started off exchanging stats and location, but then dove deep into conversation.

It was very refreshing to have an intelligent conversation with someone on Manroulette. We never shared anything sexual/vulgar. We just talked about dating, coming out, jobs, school, etc. We really hit it off, and when the time came for me to go to bed, I asked how we could keep the conversation going. We exchanged email addresses since he didn’t have a Skype account at the time.

We kept in touch loosely over email before we moved the conversation to AIM. Shortly thereafter, we lost touch. Not sure what happened, but we didn’t really talk for about 3 months. Until I got a surprise email:

“Hey brah, how ya been? Just randomly checked my email and realized I haven’t talked to you in a while so just checkin’ in. Hit me up. I have a Skype now!” 

We would video chat on Skype, telling him all my happy stories and all my sad stories. Although he is five years younger than me, he was already much wiser than me in the “gay arts.” He came out a few years earlier and helped me understand what I was going through. He is a excellent listener and gives very sound advice. He listened to me complain about my parents not opening up to my homosexuality and just told me to be patient. He went through the same thing just a few years earlier.

When things started to get a bit rocky for Broadway and I, he was really there for me. I was always willing to give Broadway the benefit of the doubt, but Boston told me when he thought I was being foolish. He pointed out when I should stop ignoring the signs. All this time, he never told me what to do, much like a therapist. He just helped me find the conclusions myself.

At some point we started talking about spring travel. Both of us were headed to South Beach, Miami, and our trips overlapped.

At this point, I said, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but would you want to grab a drink while we’re down there?” To which he replied, “Of course. Sure!”

We exchanged numbers, and when the trip was upon us, I suggested we figure out now where we could meet before we got down there. I gave him the address of my hotel.

Turned out we were staying at the same hotel, so it couldn’t have been easier. The rest of the trip is another story…

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Breaking the News to Mom & Dad

Coming out to my parents falls near the top of my list of most courageous moments.

Home is 2 hours away, and it worked out nicely that I would be making a trip home for a Thursday overnight (summer Friday = no work).

Not sure if I was 100% ready to tell them I was gay, but I didn’t know when the next opportunity would arise to tell them in person. Once I started this ball rolling, there was no stopping. Every person I told was another weight lifted off my back.

I was out with a friend at a bar the weekend prior and was dying to tell one of my best friends (only the second person to know). Her boyfriend went to the restrooms, and I pulled her aside. I just blurted it out. He came back a minute later, and we never got to fully discuss it that night. Probably not the most ideal situation, but it was like a band aid. I needed to rip that sucker off!

After work, I hurried home and packed up a small overnight bag. At this point, I knew Broadway for only 2 short weeks. I texted him asking for words of encouragement just before walking out the door. I figured when I pulled into my driveway, I could look at my phone and read a small pep talk that would help me summon the courage to tell them. My plan backfired. He responded immediately. I read the text just before pulling out that read, “Just be yourself.”

Granted, this was great advice, but it wasn’t what I was looking for. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe an “it will be alright.” All I know is that when you’re on a motorcycle for 2 hours with no radio or person to talk to, you crawl up into your head and drive yourself NUTS!

Once home, my parents were in the middle of making dinner. I settled in, and we sat down to eat (at the dinner table, but in front of the TV nonetheless). In most families, the dinner table might have been a good opportunity to break news of this measure. But the TV rules in my house, so it would have to wait.

Following dinner, I sat down on the couch sore from the ride home. My mother sat in a chair watching TV while my father cleaned up some dishes. At the moment when he came back into the room, she decided to leave the room. I remember thinking in my head, “Would you two sit down so I can get this over with!”

My heart was in my throat. Every commercial break my heart started beating out of my chest. An hour and a half passed. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. Finally I mustered the courage to speak. I casually turned to them and said, “So I’m finally dating someone….”

They both just stared at me. Neither said a word. Probably only 1 or 2 seconds passed, but it felt like 30. And I topped it off with, “And his name is Brian.”

They both just sat there staring at me. Neither saying a word. Then, after what felt like 2 minutes of silence, they said something. They asked how I met him. In as little detail as possible, I explained the fundamentals of manroulette. I told them a little about him. Then my mother said, “But I thought you always said you wanted kids?” I explained there is no reason why I can’t still have them. “You both watch Modern Family. You know a lot’s possible these days.”

My mother asked me if that’s why I cam home. “While convenient timing, it was not the main purpose for the trip,” I responded.

Then came all the questions about women. Am I still interested in them? Is this a phase? etc. I told them this was all new to me, and I had no answers. “I see no reason not to pursue this. It feels right.”

In the end, they were very accepting of the news. I was a little disappointed they weren’t more supportive. I figured they already had a strong idea I was gay, but maybe I was giving them more credit. In my own selfishness, I wanted them to embrace it immediately, but that was not the case. As time passes, they will be comfortable with it. We will be able to talk openly about it, and they will bring it up without me initiating that portion of the conversation. Until then, I will just be patient…

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Sure. Why the hell not?

I guess I’ve known I was gay for a long time.  But I was in denial.  You see the perfect family all over the media and in real life, and you think to yourself how badly you want that.  You convince yourself that being gay is something you can overcome or ignore.  Then you come to a breaking point.

I don’t exactly know when it is I realized that I was gay.  I can think back to freshmen year in high school and remember being attracted to guys and checking them out in the locker room. I’m sure it goes further back. I never acted on these feelings however.  Not for 26 years.

This is where my story begins.

A friend of mine introduced me to the amazing website chatroulette.com.  I checked it out and found it was quite addictive… Anonymously chatting with strangers around the world. From there, I discovered manroulette.com, and I was hooked. I finally found an outlet to talk to other gay men anonymously and even have a little “fun.”

After weeks on the site I started talking to a guy who lived in New York.  Living in Hoboken, it was interesting to think that this guy was just across the river sitting in his apartment in front of his webcam. We chatted a bit, mostly about how sexy the other looked, and then of course, we jacked off together.  It was hot, and I wanted to keep the “conversation” going.

We exchanged info and started skyping a few nights a week.  I found myself looking forward to our sessions more and more. We started to talk more about our personal lives. Slowly, brick by brick he disassembled the wall I spent the past 26 years building.  Finally I told him my real name and  how close to him I lived.

At this point, he asked, “Why haven’t we met?”

So I questioned myself and thought… Why the hell not!? It’s been 26 years and I’ve been putting on the charade. What do I have to lose? So I made the jump off the cliff and never looked back.

We set up a time for me to meet him outside work, and took a nice stroll back to his apartment. Once there he poured me a glass of wine and we sat on the couch talking for hours. I was so nervous I spilled my red wine.  Luckily, the couch was red as well…

After quite a bit of good conversation, he made his move. It was great. He was an amazing kisser, and I really started to enjoy myself. (Later we would talk about this and he pointed out how he noticed just how much I was enjoying it).

After a passionate make-out session, we took things to the bedroom. Things got heavy and clothes came off, and we truly began to explore each other’s bodies. There was no penetration, but that was ok.  I was just getting my feet wet (and some other things as well).

I spent the night, and in the morning he made me breakfast. We really had a connection and decided that we would definitely see each other again…

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