Posts Tagged Miami
Nearing the End of My Rope
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 1, 2013
Tensions were high between CK and I. Nearly every night, we’d find something to argue about. Although it didn’t always result in an explosive fight, there always seemed to be some kind of noise in the background. The honeymoon was officially over.
When we woke in the morning, CK apologized for the night before, as did I. As we got ready for work, we both agreed underwear was not something we should be fighting about. After making us breakfast, we ate, showered together, got dressed and made our way to the PATH.
A day prior, CK got tickets to see Hot Chip in Brooklyn from a coworker . He asked if I was interested in going. We had already planned to head to Brooklyn to visit Hip since he was recovering from his second hip replacement surgery, so I said, “Sure. Why not?”
While we were at work, we nailed down plans via text and phone. Since I finished much earlier than he did, I hopped on the subway and made my way to his office. He wasn’t quite ready yet, so I asked for his coffee order and hit up Starbucks. I didn’t sleep very well the night before, so I needed something to keep me up and give me the energy to be a fun date.
While riding the subway out to Brooklyn, I asked CK if he requested the time off to join my family on vacation. He reacted to the question as if this was some big surprise. I’d only been asking him about it for a solid month. When he asked me to take time off and book a flight to Miami for his nephews birthdays, I did it without question. Now that I was asking him to take time off to be with me and my family, he didn’t think he could get the time off. I was p*ssed! I found it quite selfish. If he’d requested the time when I originally asked, we wouldn’t have gotten into the argument that ensued. As I said, we seemed to be fighting about everything.
The rest of the ride wasn’t pleasant. It grew to far higher proportions when we got off the subway. I wanted nothing more than to get right back on the subway and make my way home. I no longer had any interest in going to the concert, and I told him that. It takes two to fight, so I take half the responsibility, but he was being rude and treating me in a way I wasn’t willing to subject myself to. As a result, I skulked behind him as we walked through Prospect Park. As he yelled at me for not helping him navigate our way to the concert, I shouted back, “Fine. Just go without me! I don’t want to go anymore. I’m not going to have any fun.” I wanted nothing to do with him or Hot Chip.
I think he understood I was serious and responded by apologizing. “Can we just get past this tonight?” he asked. “Do we have to sacrifice our entire night over this fight?” I didn’t want to just put on a happy face and grin through it. I was angry, and to be honest, I wanted to go home out of spite. The concert was something he wanted to go to, and just as he didn’t put in the effort to come with me on vacation, I wasn’t going to come to the concert. I realized how unproductive this would be, so I agreed to go (not before numerous attempts to make my way back to Hoboken).
When we finally made it in to the concert, CK bought me a few beers, and we cut through the crowd to watch the concert already in progress. Surprisingly, I started to have a better time. Admittedly, I’d never heard of the band before we arrived, and I didn’t recognize any of their music. The fighting ended, and CK was being affectionate. We even made a few friends while moving from place to place among the crowd and managed to bum a smoke off some nice guys.
When the concert was over, it was far too late to visit Hip. I felt really bad considering he was the original plan and reason for the trip to Brooklyn. I wasn’t thrilled we sacrificed his visit for a concert, but in the end, it was CK’s decision.
On the walk to the subway, we found ourselves in a situation once again that birthed yet another argument. When we were a safe distance away from the situation, I began to calmly explain how p*ssed I was at him. Once again, he didn’t think it was a big deal and almost brushed it off as if I was overreacting. I didn’t care. To me, it was so much more. I told him explicitly how much I didn’t like these types of situations, and he completely disregarded those feelings. I don’t think he consciously acted in spite of my request — Quite the opposite. I don’t think he was thinking at all.
After arguing about the matter the rest of the way to the subway, I decided I wasn’t going to engage him in conversation any longer. Clearly I wasn’t getting through to him. We rode the subway with a large group CK decided to befriend. I wanted nothing to do with them. When he asked me questions or tried to introduce me, I simply ignored him. If he wasn’t going to take my feelings into consideration any longer, I wasn’t going to regard his either. I began to wonder if this was something we’d ever get passed. Maybe we were just inherently different. Maybe he would never be able to see things through my eyes. I began to think about what it would mean to end things. Obviously that would be my last resort, but I began to prepare myself for that possibility.
I was also in a tough spot because I was spending the night at his place. By the time we resurfaced in midtown, CK finally realized I was ignoring him. He started to get irritated by this, and yet another fight broke out between us. This time, I didn’t care. I went nuts. I didn’t care who saw us fighting or what they heard as I laid into him. We argued back and forth about the severity of the incident at hand for some time. He didn’t realize it, but as each of these incidents came up, my tolerance for them dwindled more and more. Toward the end of the argument, I think CK finally got a clear idea of the zero tolerance I had left. I’m not the most bending person (and that’s an understatement), but this was one sticking point I wasn’t going to bend on. I didn’t care how small the infraction. He had a choice, and he needed to pick me.
He finally understood my stance and apologized for everything. He didn’t think this fell under my umbrella of discomfort. He finally understood that nothing in this realm would be acceptable to me. We were able to civilly walk the rest of the way back to his place, but the conversation was certainly nonexistent.
When we got back to his bedroom, I brushed my teeth, stripped down to my boxer briefs and climbed right into bed. CK finished what he needed to do before bed and climbed into the opposite side of the bed. That night, we didn’t go to bed fighting, but there wasn’t a lot of love in the bed either.
Closing Ceremonies
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 23, 2012
This year was the first time I was fully participating in Pride Weekend, and I have to say, it was certainly starting out to be an interesting one to say the least. Going into the weekend, I was petrified my relationship with CK wouldn’t survive. A lot of that due to the baggage I was still carrying around from my previous relationships. The guys from my past didn’t appreciate me, and I didn’t want to go through that again. That wasn’t helped by a few comments CK had made to me in full disclosure. Let me point out, he never gave me a reason not to trust him, however, he never gave me a reason to trust him either. It would take time, but eventually I would learn to trust him.
Overall, I had a good time at Matinee. I may not have been able to realize that at the time because I was so stressed throughout the night, but looking back from a relaxed state, I am able to recognize I was having a good time. When we got home that night, we had an even better time. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with everything that went on that night, but I was thrilled to be in the arms of the man I loved. We had amazing sex that night. It seemed to be a turning into a trend. Our sex life was indescribable. The passion was without parallel. We were both strong men, so tossing each other around came easy and provided fun and excitement. We even pulled out a reverse cowgirl or two. To put it succinctly, it was epic.
We slept in the following morning. We both had a long day. My exhaustion came at my own hand from mental anguish. CK’s exhaustion came more from hip gyrations on the dance floor. I was happy to relax for a bit with some light pillow talk. Before the weekend began, CK mentioned going to Alegria Sunday night. I told him right off the bat, I would not be able to do that. I had to go to work Monday morning, so that was not something I would participate in. Again, I didn’t really want him to go without me, but I wasn’t going to stop him.
We got a really slow start, and it took a long time for us to get out of the apartment. A part of me wanted to see the parade since I’d still never quite seen it before, but once again, I was going to miss it. In the big picture takeaway, I was alright with that as well. We walked from Hell’s Kitchen down to the Village to see what was still going on. Along the way, I spotted Hunter Parrish of Weeds fame coming out of Starbucks and pointed him out to CK. Once we got down to the Village, we came upon some of CK’s friends from Miami and stopped to chat with them for a bit. They were headed to Alegria that night and encouraged us to join them. CK turned to me and asked how I felt about the idea.
I was ready to kill him. The part of that interaction that bothered me the most was the hypocrisy. When I had done something of a similar fashion, CK was sure to point out how unfair that was and how uncomfortable it made him. Now, he was doing the same thing after we had a long conversation about avoiding putting each other in that exact situation. I gave him such a look. I think he picked up on it rather quickly and told them he wasn’t sure what we were doing yet. He told them he’d hit them up and try to go. They commented, “Yea… You’re not going to show up,” through a chuckle.
After that, we reached out to Hip to see how his day was going. The night before, he met a cute Aussie, and they were heading to the unofficial after-party at Work. CK and I were anxious to get the details on how the night went. He wasn’t far from us, so we stayed put while he made his way toward us. He greeted us with big hugs and began detailing his night. We were all feeling quite peckish, so we decided to grab a bite to eat a few blocks away. On the walk there, CK literally almost trampled an incognito 
Matthew Broderick, looking quite disheveled I might add. We sat outside Cowgirl and ordered food while we talked and took in the sights passing us by. We were right at the end of the parade route, so it was quite the sh*tshow. Apparently, the day was also full of celebrity sightings. While we ate, Hip noticed Colin Farrell walking up the street away from the parade. This of course spurred a whole new conversation about Colin’s sexuality and prowess.
It was a fun day, and I couldn’t have thought of a better way to end Pride Weekend than with my boys. It was the perfect cherry on top to a long weekend. We had a gay ol’ time joking, laughing and judging the sh*t out of the people who passed by. I drank my fill of people watching while I chased it down with fried chicken.
Overall, I had a good time at all the Pride events. Granted, the weekend stressed me out so much I probably should have been put on anti-anxiety medication, but I still had a good time. I opened me up to trying similar experiences down the road I wouldn’t have before the weekend. I was slowly coming out of my shell and finally beginning to bear some of that gay pride, and it was only going to grow from there.
His Mother’s Day
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 19, 2012
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.
Follow @onegayatatimeLadies and Gentleman, My Boyfriend
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 13, 2012
The morning after my “wild night,” I woke early. I was happy to realize I didn’t have a hangover, but I had a lot to do. I sat at my desk and went through circulars to make a grocery list, I went over my to-do list, I cleaned my bedroom, did two loads of laundry and sorted through my clothes to get rid of some of them. It was a very productive morning. The only thing I didn’t get done was to make it to the gym.
Around 11:00am, CK called. I didn’t want to call him because I was afraid of waking him. I knew he wasn’t a morning person. I was happy to hear his voice. He told me he needed to do laundry and wouldn’t come to Hoboken until about 2:00. I was fine with that. It allowed me to finish what I needed to get done for the morning.
I planned to head over to the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival around 2:00. That’s what I told P and my sister. As I was walking out the door, he called to apologize for running late. He was just walking out the door to hop on the PATH. Obviously he wasn’t going to arrive at 2:00. I told him I’d be at the festival, and I would make my way to him when he arrived.
I managed to find P, my sister and her friend without much effort. P had her dog, Baby, with her and needed to find her water. I told them I needed to make my way to the PATH to get CK, and they were welcome to join me. They all followed. We waited at the PATH for some time before he finally arrived. It was close to 3:45 before he finally arrived. He was running late as usual. I happily introduced him to the three of them, and we made our way back to the festival to find lunch.
Before he arrived, I had a worry in the back of my head. We were used to showing affection openly, but not in Hoboken. I still wasn’t out to everyone I knew around town, and I had my reservations about PDA. I was trying to get over it. There was no reason I shouldn’t feel comfortable being myself. But, I can’t lie. I was very nervous.
That being said, I greeted him with a hug, and we spent a large portion of the day holding hands and our arms around each other. This was a first for me. I did relax a bit and began to let my guard down.
We found the steak sandwiches I’ve gotten many years in the past and hopped in line. My old roommate (also my favorite roommate) was making his way toward us, so I told him where we were. I introduce him to CK, and he reminded me I’d met the girl he was with in the past.
As we ate, we walked uptown chatting. He mentioned wanting to do something special for my birthday that Friday. He asked if I’d be able to get out of work early, and I told him it shouldn’t be a problem. All I knew about this surprise was that it would cater to my adventurous side. I thought it was incredibly sweet of him to plan something special for me.
When we reached the north end of the festival, I was ready for dessert. I hadn’t passed anything along the way I really wanted, so I decided to hit up Ralph’s for some cream ice. I ordered the peanut butter cookie dough, and we shared it. It was utterly amazing.
P, my sister, her friend, CK and I were all heading to City Bistro to grab a drink on the rooftop bar since it was such a nice day. We found a seat and relaxed. I could tell one of the guys on the roof was making comments about CK and I, but I didn’t care. I continued resting my hand on his leg or putting my arm around him. I noticed two guy I thought might be gay and informed CK of the “Pickle game” I’d learned from Boston in Miami. We agreed they were gay.
The time came for us to head out. CK wanted to go for a ride on the motorcycle, and I needed to start dinner. We had to stop at ShopRite on the way home for supplies, and it was a bit of a walk home. CK wasn’t happy, but he did it — Not without complaining most of the way.
When we got home, we cuddled in bed for a few minutes before I told him I wanted him to help me with dinner. As I put the beef roast in the oven, I asked him to slice the potatoes for the scalloped potatoes on the mandolin. I warned him quite pointedly to be careful since the blade was so sharp, and I’d already cut myself pretty severely on it once, as did my mother. When he was cutting the last potato, he sliced his finger pretty badly.
I immediately ran to his rescue. He was bleeding pretty bad, but not enough for stitches. He sliced off a small piece of the tip of his thumb. He was now the third person to cut themselves on that mandolin (Him, my mother, and myself). He couldn’t believe how well I was handling the blood. I told him I was a lifeguard for seven years and had my own share of accidents involving a lot of blood. “Awww. Baby, you’re my lifeguard,” he said. I bandaged him up, told him to hold his arm above his head, gave him some painkillers and told him to sit on the couch. Maybe asking him to help was not a good idea. I thought it would be romantic, but it turned out tragic.
When dinner was ready, we ate in front of the TV. He raved about how good dinner was. We watched the shows I normally record on a Sunday night. It was really nice to have him fit so nicely into my routine. That was a sign our relationship had a solid foundation.
When we got tired, we made our way to my bedroom. He must have been really tired, and he kept dozing off. I wanted sex, but it was quite obvious that wasn’t going to happen. It’d been quite some time since we had sex, but I would have to settle for some cuddling instead.
He was out cold, so I brushed my teeth and came back to bed. I must have roused him, because he too got out of bed to brush his teeth. We turned out the light and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
It’s rare to find me happier than when I wake up next to him. It’s impossible not to have a smile from ear-to-ear. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. As per usual, he began to give me a bl*wjob. It was one of his favorite morning activities. He told me he wanted me to finish for him. This is an immediate killer for me. I begin to concentrate on that alone. (I really need to see someone about this!) After a while, I told him it was time to shower. I scooped him up and carried him to the shower. He began bl*wing me outside the shower as well. I was too distracted in the bathroom, so I grabbed his hand and led him back to the bed. He felt amazing, and when he began teasing my boys with his tongue, I used my hand to get me over the edge.
“Baby. You taste so sweet today!” he told me. I was a bit shocked to hear this considering N told me I tasted awful. This made me like CK so much more in that moment. Seconds later, he exploded all over his own abdomen. It was incredibly hot to watch.
We went back to the shower and cleaned up. That morning, we joked about water sports. He threatened to pee on me in the shower. I told him if he did, I would certainly be returning the favor. When I saw his warm stream hitting my feet, I delivered on my promise. Both of us immediately got weirded out, and that ended immediately. “Yea. That’s definitely not going to be a thing!” I exclaimed. He nodded his head in sever agreement. Afterwards, I bandaged his finger once again and gave him a band-aid for the road.
We got ready and made our way to the PATH. I had to say goodbye to him in Hoboken to get my allergy shot, and he hopped on the PATH.
Monday, he called me as I was picking out a wedding card at CVS. He wanted to know if I was still in the city so we could meet up for a bit. I’d just gotten off the PATH five minutes prior. He was hopping elevator, so he told me he’d call me when he got up to his apartment, but I didn’t hear back from him.
I sent him a picture message of a t-shirt saying “I would cuddle you so hard.” He didn’t acknowledge the message. When I called later that evening, he seemed weird. He told me he was reading Hunger Games and sounded like I woke him up. The conversation was very short and awkward, so I just said goodnight and went to bed.
We made plans for Tuesday, but work got in the way for him. I proposed getting together Wednesday night at my place for Revenge again instead. I also left work early to pick up my new custom-made bed. I was so excited! I brought it home and assembled it. It was amazing. I sent him pictures, and he responded, “Can’t wait to break it in!” He also asked me if I would be interested in a show at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. I told him that sounded great. Later Tuesday night, I texted him, but got no response until 12:30, just after I dozed off.
The question of fidelity did cross my mind for a hot second. I wondered if we needed to have the exclusivity conversation or was that covered under the can I be your boyfriend conversation? It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but my mind can run wild at times. I was just going to keep it in the back of my mind until I decided whether it was necessary to bring it up…
Follow @onegayatatimeConnecting the Dots
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 10, 2012
Just because I said I wasn’t going to hit up Grindr constantly in search of sex from strangers didn’t mean I couldn’t satisfy myself with guys I’d already been with. This way they wouldn’t be strangers.
The last time I visited the bar manager in Hoboken, I had a great time. He had an amazing body, and we both really enjoyed each other. Wednesday, when I woke, he happened to be around. There had been a few days I suggested we get together, but he was always heading out-of-town for something. This time, he was available. There was a small snafu. He was sick. He had a sinus infection, so he was worried he’d get me sick. I told him it would be alright. We would simply avoid kissing each other. He told me to come up to his place, and he’d break out the glory hole again.
This visit was pretty much the same drill as my last visit to his apartment. He left the door unlocked. I was to walk in, undress, and saunter up to the hole in the sheet hung in the bathroom doorway. He was waiting for me on the other side. I hopped on my motorcycle and made my way to his place. I did as I was told.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I removed my shorts and inserted myself into the opening. Immediately, he grabbed hold and began to orally pleasure me. It felt amazing. I wasn’t fully into the glory-hole thing, but it was making it a little more exciting. It wasn’t long before I pulled the curtain back once again. We started kissing each other all over each other’s bodies and swapping back to him on his knees. He was wearing his hat, which I’d already knocked on the floor so I could grab hold of his long flowing hair and his boots. It was an incredibly sexy look for him, and he knew it. I couldn’t keep my hands off his body.
He turned around and began grinding his backside against my crotch. I was incredibly turned on and excited. It felt so great to simply have his back pressed against my chest with one hand pulling across his chest so keep him close and the other pleasuring his impressive manhood. We continued this action until he was so excited he finished all over the bathroom floor. Everything felt amazing, and I was very close to finishing myself. However, this didn’t happen.
Once again, we moved things to the couch. He was all over me and everything felt incredible. I wanted to finish for him so badly. He was awaiting it with great anticipation ever since I first fooled around with him. We played for quite some time, and I kept losing my erection and gaining it again when I would pleasure his endowment. Throughout the whole visit, we were incredibly tempted to kiss, and came close many times, but at the last second withdrew again.
When a large period of time passed, he threw in the towel. He had to get on with his day. He was disappointed, and I was too. Not only disappointed, but also embarrassed. I wanted so much to please him. I wanted to give him exactly what he was looking for, but I came up short.
He walked into the bathroom and threw on a pair of sweatpants. As he walked, I could see his manhood swinging back-and-forth. It was such a turn-on. This is one thing that will always get my engines revving! He loved walking around with his package easily visible as well. It was something he was proud of, making it all the more sexy. I walked up to him and grabbed hold of it. I wish this was something I could do on the street. It would be so hot!
As I got dressed, I made a point to look around a bit. When I last left his place, I suspected he lived with his partner. I indeed confirmed my suspicion when I noticed there was only one bedroom. I also tried to casually scope out the pictures on the wall. The apartment was not decorated like two random roommates living together. It was definitely the residence of a loving couple. I felt a pang of guilt. This guy seemed like a good guy. I was disappointed in him for cheating on his lover. I didn’t know the dynamic between the two, but I never liked seeing infidelity. I wasn’t passing judgment, but I was putting myself in his mate’s shoes. I was a partnered man’s affair. Now I knew why we never had full penetration.
I said goodbye and made my way home. This would be the last time I would see him. I wouldn’t be the last time I chatted with him. He happened to sign on to Grindr about a week later. I was checking to see if I received any new messages and messaged him just to say hi. He was in Miami. I asked him if his man came with him, and he told me he was at home. Without knowing it, he slipped up and confirmed to me he had a man in his life. I pointed out to him how I caught him in a slip-up. When he originally mentioned the guy, he told me it was his roommate. He acknowledged his lie, and I told him we were cool. I had no hard feelings. It was his life, not mine. I then realized he was probably on Grindr down in Miami looking for a new piece of tail. I told him to enjoy himself, and with that, I said goodbye to him for probably the last time.
Follow @onegayatatimeMiami Vice
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on October 7, 2011
Roughly one block away from my date with Dr. Nice, I began texting another guy I had on standby for a date that evening. I wanted to see if I could use my time wisely and see two guys on my free Friday evening. It would help cut down the roster if they weren’t quality guys. The story I told him was that I was out to dinner with clients, and I would get in touch with him as the dinner was ending.
We found each other a few days earlier, and we agreed to meet in Hell’s Kitchen, but never picked a specific location. As I walked south on 9th Avenue after my first date, I found out he wasn’t far. I told him to head north on 9th Avenue, and we would meet in the middle. We could pick somewhere in the neighborhood to grab a drink.
As I was walking, I realized how bad that idea was. We never met before, and there was a good chance we would walk right past each other. I picked a bar, Nizza, and told him to meet me in front of it.
He walked up with a smile from ear to ear. He was somewhat attractive, and when he opened his mouth, his Latino background was screaming at me. I have nothing against it, but I also don’t have much in common with the typical culture.
We grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a few cocktails. I ordered a Dark and Stormy Float. It was a very interesting drink with the twist of Rum Raisin ice cream. I love Dark and Stormys, but I wasn’t thrilled with this concoction. My date insisted I order something else, but I insisted I would finish it. He enjoyed his drink while we talked about what brought him from Miami to New York. He was working as a producer on a Hispanic television news show, and was looking for a change. He wanted to move to New York and was afforded a job transfer.
It was interesting to learn he was in the city only four months, so he hadn’t yet experienced the changing of the seasons. He wasn’t quite used to the phrase “the end of summer.” As we talked, the conversation began to take shape as me giving him advice on how to adapt to New York City and less about us and any future we may have.
He told me all about being brought up in Miami and how he is going to miss being so close to his family. However, he was thinking about his career and needed to move up in this world. Surprisingly, he was living in New Jersey as well. I knew this bit of information earlier and asked him to meet on the other side of the river, but he explained where he lived and how it would be difficult to meet over there since he had no car.
The date was very pleasant, just as my date earlier that evening, but I wasn’t feeling a spark. When this date ended, I would not have a burning desire to see him again.
We closed our tab, and I agreed to walk him to Port Authority. I was heading there myself to go back to Hoboken for the night. Before he hopped on one of the shuttles, we exchanged hugs. He suggested we find the time to meet up again. I told him we would be in touch and manage to figure something out in the near future.
Of course, he was yet another man who would fall by the wayside due to lack of interest on my part. He was a nice enough guy, but there was nothing there to really draw me in.
It seemed I was back to my old ways of serial unsuccessful dating. I needed my luck to change, or my self-esteem was really going to land in the crapper…
Follow @onegayatatimeThe Wild Card
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 27, 2011
WednesGAY lunch in the park…
Of the four dates I set up for the week, this one scared me the most. He was truly a wild card. He was gorgeous in his pictures — like model hot — but we only scratched the surface the few times we spoke on adam4adam.com.
When he told me his name, I was quite confused. In his pictures, he looked white, but his name sounded Middle Eastern. Only now, from googling the origin of his name, did I find it is of Spanish origin and not very popular.
I asked him for his number and if we could grab a drink sometime after work. He told me he doesn’t drink. Normally, this may have been a deal breaker for me, but I was beginning to enjoy my new dating adventures. Good or bad, they were experiences and something interesting to talk about with friends (Again, this is also when I thought I had an idea to start a blog). So I decided to be open-minded. I asked him where he worked, and he told me from home, by Bryant Park. So, I asked if we could do lunch one day. He suggested Cosi for lunch since it was nearby my office, his apartment and the park.
It was a gorgeous Wednesday after many days of cold and clouds. I was happy to be spending time outside. I walked to Cosi, texting him on my way. I wasn’t getting a response. Finally, after standing on the street for about 5 minutes, he texted me explaining he was en route and would arrive shortly.
When he arrived, I could tell he was quite flustered and sweating. Even through all that, I could see a beautiful man standing in front of me with flowing curly hair. Very dreamy. Also a bit intimidating. Towering over me, he was about 6’4″ or 6’5″ (I’m 6’2″ and intimidated by people taller than me since it happens so rarely). He apologized profusely for being late in an accent I was not able to place. He told me he would explain his tardiness when we sat down to eat. We hopped in line, ordered our lunch and walked across the street to the park. Ironically, I would later find out weeks later I was spotted while eating lunch by a fellow Grindr I was courting.
He told me he was on the upper west side on his scooter and was pulled over for not having the proper decals on his plate. It all clicked in my head why I wasn’t getting a phone call or text explaining why he was running late. Luckily, the cop let him off, but not before giving him a hard time. I then asked him what he did that allowed him to work from home every day. He gave me an awkward smile, and said, “Well I don’t work. I’m a landlord.”
I replied, “Not a bad gig. I’d kill to do that!”
He then explained he is originally from Miami and owns a few rental properties there. This was his source of income and allowed him to live a life of daily freedom. After he asked, I explained what I do for a living.
We started talking candidly about dating in NYC and in general. We talked about the challenges and pitfalls of trying to find someone to spend time with. Too many people are just simply looking for sex. He said, “We all have sexual needs, but it’s really challenging when you’re trying to find a meaningful relationship.”
At this point, between his pleasant disposition and his amazing looks, I was very interested. He also had an innocence about him that was very intriguing. On top of that, I couldn’t help myself. I was staring at his sexy jawline, his dreamy eyes and the flowing hair he continuously pushed behind his ear.
We talked about being from Miami and why he moved to NYC. He did it alone because he’s always wanted to live here and wanted a challenge. I admired this greatly. I myself have always considered moving to California, but don’t have the guts to start over. His courage was admirable and sexy. He elaborated. He told me about the man he left in Miami. They had been together for almost 10 years. “Pretty much husband and husband,” as he put it. He left him behind because he was not willing to move to New York. He needed to do this for himself — to find himself, so he left.
This was a bit of a curveball I wasn’t expecting. I tried to change the subject to something lighter. I asked him where he lives. He pointed out his apartment from where we were sitting. An apartment overlooking Bryant park is more than impressive. I asked him what he does for fun in his free time. I learned he lives a very European lifestyle. Grocery shopping all over the city on a daily basis, cooking meals, reading, traveling… He then went on to tell me he has a house in the mountains and loves to ski. And when he’s not there, he’s traveling out to his new LA apartment to get that in shape.
And all of a sudden, the dream came crashing down. We were not compatible. We came from different worlds. I admired his lifestyle and aspired to it, but I would not be someone’s kept man. He had so much freedom, a relationship with me would hold him back and create resentment. On top of that, my lunch hour was over.
We were both headed in the same direction, so we started to walk. The date ended without even a hug. I figured he wasn’t interested in me, and I lost interest when I realized how different our lives are. He suggested we do lunch again sometime, and I agreed. At this point, I considered putting him in the “friend zone.”
Sadly, we have not kept in touch since then, and I don’t know how well it would be received if I attempted to reach out to him now…
Breaking Up Broadway
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 17, 2011
Just want to start today’s post by reminding everyone it is the International Day Against Homophobia, held on May 17 every year. Keep it in your thoughts today, and every day.
On with the show…
After Florida, it’s pretty clear I was no longer committed to a relationship. I needed to end it. It crushed me to think such thoughts, but my heart was no longer in it.
When I got back, I texted Broadway asking if we could talk. After a short exchange, I wasn’t sure if he could see what was coming. I agonized over how to break the news.
That night, I met him after his show; no overnight bag on my shoulder. We awkwardly hugged and exchanged a peck on the lips. He asked me if I was ok. I said, “Yes,” with a shrug. He asked me what I wanted to talk to him about. This was the moment of truth.
“I feel like we’ve been drifting apart over the past few weeks,” I said.
He responded, “That’s it?”
I said, “No. I just want to hear your thoughts.” After that, I elaborated. I explained my feelings about how he acted during his trip to Barcelona and the previous weeks in general. He silently walked beside me taking it all in. I was so proud of myself for saying how I truly felt. I didn’t sugar coat it.
When I finished, he took his turn. He told me all my points were fair and valid, but I could never be prepared for what came next. He said, “You’re just not a priority in my life right now. I have school and work…”
I felt like someone punched me in the gut. I turned to him and said, “I have to say, that was very hard to hear.” I began to get a little choked up. Until then, I was strong and resolved in breaking up, but that statement tainted out entire relationship together. I wasn’t prepared to hear anything so harsh.
He acknowledged his emotional issues and his inability to call me his boyfriend. He also took the opportunity to unload a lot of issues he’d been holding back for some time. He pointed out my issues with the gay scene. I have never felt comfortable in gay clubs, and he knew this. He went on to tell me how uncomfortable and threatened he felt going to my favorite straight bar in Hobobken.
This was news to me. I defended myself. While not comfortable with the flamboyant gay scene, he never asked me to go. With the right crowd and understanding, I’m sure I could find comfort. I was uncomfortable because it was not familiar to me. He never gave me a chance.
This went back-n-forth. It never turned into a fight. We never fought through the 10 months we were in a relationship. We weren’t about to start now. It was a discussion about our differences. We came to an agreement. Although we were very compatible, we were not meant to be dating.
The conversation turned casual. He showed me pictures on his phone from Barcelona and asked about Florida. The he asked me how drinks with Boston went. After blatantly lying about its innocence, he said, “Well I had to ask. You know how it could look from my perspective.”
I immediately rebuked with, “Well, you have to know how it looks when you buy 2 bottles of lube the day you go away.”
He explained. He bought it for us to use. It was just cheaper than usual. And then added, “But, touché. I could see ho that looks shady.”
After walking around the city talking for an hour, I dropped him at his apt. We kissed and embraced. Finally, I pulled back and said, “Just because we’re not dating doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.”
As I walked to Port Authority, I felt power. Before this night, I don’t know if I would have had the confidence to be a person who set in motion the actions that would end a relationship. I was a new man who was about to fully exercise his new found freedom.
Florida Fun, The Sequel
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 16, 2011
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.
At the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
One Gay at a Time 
The Next Chapter
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on April 16, 2013
Two years ago, I started this blog. I began writing because I felt alone. I knew there had to be other gay men out there who were looking for the same thing I was, and I wanted a way to connect with them.
Since the beginning, I have gone on MANY dates and put myself in many situations well outside my comfort zone. I have not only grown more comfortable in my own skin, but I’ve also grown up as a gay man. I got all the hookups out of my system and began searching for a meaningful, long-term relationship.
This blog began as an open forum diary of the daily occurrences I encountered navigating the gay world. I told my side of the story honestly in hopes that others out there would be able to relate, comment and most importantly, realize they are not alone.
When I first told CK about the blog, he was very open to and even grew excited about the idea of my writing our relationship. Over time, as you could probably understand, his excitement waned, and we began to argue about the content of the blog.
I had to make a choice between the blog and my man. It’s quite obvious which I chose. As a result, I will no longer be blogging about the specifics of my relationship with CK. However, in lieu of continuing to finish our story in a daily dairy format, let me catch you up on what has happened since July. Here are some of the highlights…
It took a lot of time for CK and I to figure things out. This wasn’t the first time our relationship reached physicality, but I hoped it was the last. It also took a long time for things to return to normal between CK, me and my circle of friends. My sister wasn’t speaking to me for over a month and my friends had semi-ostracized me from typical gatherings. I burned a lot of bridges on that trip, and I am still working to rebuild them today. You can expect to read about my experiences and feelings dealing with issues such as physical violence in a relationship as one of the topics I will cover in coming posts.
After Sandy exhausted my last modicum of energy, I decided I was too tired to shave my upper lip. CK and I both decided to raise awareness and funds to fight prostate cancer by growing mustaches for Movember. I proudly raised over $500 for charity as a result of my stache, and I was thrilled when we both shaved them off — We both looked like pedophiles.
When I returned to Hoboken after Thanksgiving, preparations began immediately for what would have been my Sixth Annual Holiday Bash. This year, it became Our First Annual Holiday Bash. I finally had someone to share the hosting duties with, making it extra special.
In February, CK and I took a romantic trip to Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz, NY. Although it seems we can’t go anywhere without having some kind of quarrel like an old married couple, the trip was amazing and couldn’t have come at a better time. We went ice skating, snow shoeing, swimming, hiking, and much more. It was a perfect escape for both of us to get out of the city and away from the bustle of it all after the holidays.
In between, there have been countless brunches, parties, trips, nights out, Broadway shows, fights… Oh yea, and plenty of sex — Can’t forget the sex! Overall, things have been going well for us. You have good days and bad days, but you have to realize the bad days are just there so you appreciate the good ones all the more. I am thrilled to announce, this past Saturday, CK and I celebrated our one-year anniversary at the restaurant we went to on our first date, Frankies Spuntino 570. Although we waited nearly an hour, the evening was perfect, and I look forward to many more years together.
Although I won’t be detailing the specifics of my relationship going forward, I hope to share with you what I have learned along the way. It’s not easy being in a relationship, but then again, the things that are worth it never really are.
To my most dedicated readers who haven’t let me lack of posting stop them from commenting words of support on my blog, thank you. You are what has motivated me to get back into this once again. I feel like many of you have integrated my writing into your daily routines, and I have left you with your morning coffee in hand and no reading material. You will not see the frequency of posts you may have grown accustomed in the past, but I still hope you find time in your lives for One Gay At A Time.
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