Posts Tagged messages

Why Do I Make Such Poor Decisions?

Another Friday, and I used up yet another carryover vacation day. This one would kick off a staycation lasting over week long. I was beholden to no schedule and no one.

Once again, I woke up horny and turned to my go-to. I fired up Grindr and began to search for someone to satisfy the animal within. When over an hour passed by and had no luck, I turned to my computer. I checked adam4adam.com for any messages. I had a few, but no one seemed to be around for the day. I cast out a net to see what was out there. I began messaging some of the guys who lived in Hoboken and the surrounding area. Some of the guys were online, many were not.

After some time, I got some responses. I exchanged messages with a few guys, but they were all preoccupied or messaging me from work on their phone. This was turning out to be a bust, and I’d already wasted hours doing this. Geez, what was I doing with my life! But, I was still horny. Rather than turn to porn and finish myself off, I continued to search.

Then, out of the blue, a guy, who had messaged me many times before, sent me a message. He was horny and looking for fun. His profile was pretty bare, which is why I’d rejected him so many times before. However, this time I was a bit “desperate.”

I responded to his message and learned he lived close by. We talked about what he was looking for. I learned he was a “hungry bottom.” He was looking for some no-strings-attached action, and I was too. I told him to come by my place.

Half an hour later, he buzzed my apartment. When I answered the door, I was a little shocked. He was much smaller than he looked in the pictures. This is not at all what I was expecting. I don’t mean to sound racist here, only descriptive. He was a tiny little Mexican boy. He told me he was 29, but he looked about 18.

This is where I go wrong. Where I should be able to say, “Sorry. I don’t think I can do this,” I don’t because I feel bad they came all the way to my place. Why is this when the nice side of me decides to show its face?

I tell him to come in and show him to my bedroom. He immediately asks me again, “Are you clean?” I reassure him of my negative and clean status. I was a little relieved by his paranoia – It made for a stronger argument that he himself was clean and afraid of contracting something. At least I knew this guy was safe.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. With that, he undid my pants and began orally pleasuring me. He had a mint in his mouth, and this was certainly a new one for me. Everything tingled. I’m still not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. I’m also still not sure if he did it on purpose, or if he just happened to be concerned with his fresh breath.

After a short while, he turned around and began to grind his a$$ in my crotch. He asked me to get a condom and lube. He was bent over the foot of my bed while I penetrated him. He thoroughly enjoyed it. He told me to keep going until I finished. “I’m here to serve you,” he added. “I want you to finish inside me.” I wasn’t sure this was a request I could fulfill. I have enough of a problem finishing without the added hindrance of the condom’s desensitizing nature. I alternated between penetration and self stimulation to see if I could manage to finish, but it was no use. Finally, with the right combination, I ripped off the condom and finished all over his back, accidentally hitting him in the back of the head with a shot. He began to spread it around when I told him I would get him a towel. He didn’t seem to mind nor need one, but I insisted on wiping what was left of my DNA off his back. He was going to find it to be an incredibly uncomfortable ride home in the car if I didn’t.

He turned and asked if he could suck on my toes. I’d never had that request live in person before, but I was game. After my toes were thoroughly bathed, while he pleasured himself to no finish, he collected his clothes and got dressed. I saw him to the door, and with that, he was gone.

I felt so disgusting. I didn’t waste one more second before jumping in the shower. Everything I did was safe, but I still felt incredibly dirty. I needed to wash the shame down the drain as well. I found myself asking the question once again, “What the f*ck are you doing!?” I decided then and there I wasn’t going to turn this into a trend over my staycation. I was going to turn things around. This staycation was going to be all about me bettering myself. I was going to eat right, relax, read, tan, go to the gym… No more was I going to call random guys for sex. I needed to move on and stop giving myself excuses.

This was a fine plan. Now I just needed to stick to it!

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A Colombian Night

After a very nice date Wednesday, I was pretty happy. It had been a while since I had a good first date. I spent a lot of time having strings of bad first dates or finding guys to simply have fun with and send on their way. Nothing was fulfilling, but for the first time since PR, I was hopeful.

Thursday nights are always my volleyball nights. It’s the one night of the week I get to fulfill my competitive edge and work out some of the frustrations that have built up over the week. I always look forward to it, and I almost always commence the night at my favorite watering hole, McSwiggans.

Before riding home on the motorcycle from volleyball, I checked Grindr to see if I had any messages. A few started flowing in as soon as I opened the application. Where I play volleyball is a hotbed for Hispanic Grindrs and it seems they flock to me like a moth to the flame.

When I got home, I started chatting with one guy who seemed nice enough. When I told him where I lived, he was confused why I showed up so much closer. I explained to him why I was in his neighborhood. He was disappointed to hear I’d already left the area. “We could have grabbed a drink or something.” I told him it wouldn’t have worked out since I had the motorcycle and was disgusting from playing three games.

I did, however, invite him to come to Hoboken and join my friends and I at the bar. I had already texted a few friends and told them to meet me there. Two of my friends were already in the process of getting ready to meet me.

He entertained the idea for a few minutes before finally accepting my offer and dragging his roommate along for the ride. I was going into this arrangement mainly thinking this would be a friendly drink. I made it clear I had friends with me so he wouldn’t think I was asking him out on a date.

I arrived at the bar at the same time my friends did. We grabbed beers and sat at one of the tables. I informed both my friends a guy and his roommate would be coming by to hang out. My male friend looked very leery, but I told him this was just a friendly drink thing. I think he was worried he was basically going to sit through one of my dates. After some time passed, my Hispanic Grindr friend and I started texting. He arrived and was sitting at the bar. I had walked up and ordered right next to him without noticing him there.

I immediately walked over and said hi to him and his roommate and introduced myself. I called my two friends over to introduce them as well.

It wasn’t long before my male friend’s comfort level dropped, and he decided to meet other friends at another bar. My female friend, P, was hitting it off with the guy I met through Grindr. They are both Colombian and were sharing a few stories. The other guys seemed very nice and decently cool. We started with the small talk and then got into more of a discussion. It was nice, but I wasn’t really attracted to this guy at all. This was purely going to be a friendly drink. We talked for at least another hour, and more than a few rounds later, we decided to head out.

He was a really nice guy, and we all left at the same time. P lived uptown and in the direction they were heading to go home, so they offered to give her a ride home. They were parked in the direction of my apartment, so I agreed to walk them to their car at the least before heading home. As we got closer, the convinced me to hop in and let them drop me off. I finally agreed.

When we got to my apartment, it was slightly awkward because I could tell this guy wanted a moment alone with me. Maybe he wanted a kiss out of the night. I don’t know. I reached up and tapped his shoulder and said, “Thanks for coming down here. It was fun. We should connect again sometime soon.” He smiled and agreed. It was my subtle way of letting him down easy without getting his hopes up for a “date.”

Finally, I was making gay friends without overcomplicating things with hookups or sex. I needed to do more of this. I had one local gay friend, and he was all but married with a serious boyfriend, an apartment, a shared dog and a shared car. This was something I looked forward to, but maybe I needed to find a wingman to help me find the right guy first.

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