Posts Tagged pace

Equilibrium

After our week in the “country” house, as CK liked to call it, it was time to utilize our city abode. It was in no shape, however, to be lived in. Sure, the new bed was delivered, the delivery of which was a bit of contention between us, but the bed was surrounded by towers of boxes.

The day the bed was delivered followed a week straight with CK. There were errands I needed to take care of I never got to do when we were together. Because of this, I dropped CK off for the bus and told him I would meet him in the city later. I was trying to be productive with my time, rather than waiting for the bed to be delivered with him. Looking back, we probably should have just done them together, but at the time, I didn’t want to subject him to my boring burdens.

We were both eating dinner when I cooked at my place, so there’s no reason I should feel guilty dragging him to the grocery store. Going forward, I learned to shed that guilt quite easily. But on the flip side, this meant I would be going to the grocery store with him on the other side of the river. That seemed like a much better arrangement. I was beginning to resent that I had to do the responsible duties while he had all the fun, but that wasn’t fair to him. He never turned me down when I asked him to help me, but in reality, I never asked him in the first place. I couldn’t resent him if I didn’t give him the chance to delight me. There were lots of not exciting things we would both need to do, like cleaning our apartments, that while not fun at all, they could be completed much faster with both our efforts in tandem. Our lives were blending together, and I loved it. It wasn’t smooth, but I loved it.

On the flip side, since we were spending so much time together, I was finding it hard to make the time to work out. My body was paying the price, and as a result, my self-esteem plummeted even lower. I needed to start running again. I needed to get back in the gym and start lifting again.

This posed the challenge of a delicate situation. CK proposed that we work out together. I knew I was a far better runner than CK was. That’s not a dig against him at all, but put simply, I ran cross-country in high school and swam in college. In order for me to get results from my workouts, I needed to push myself, and I needed to push myself hard! I wouldn’t be able to do that if I was holding back to run at CK’s pace. I didn’t want to insult him or his abilities, but I wasn’t sure this was something we’d be able to integrate.

Regardless of this, I decided to make an effort to give it a shot. When I told CK I wanted to go for a run one night, he wanted to join me. We both got ready and walked over to the west bank of the Hudson to run along the trail. As I predicted, we clocked a pace much less effective than I was hoping. I decided I needed to speak up. I was met with the response I had dreaded. He took insult to my comments that I needed to run faster. I didn’t know any way to navigate this without creating a conflict. He took it personally that I was insinuating he was holding me back.

As a result, he played the role of the martyr and told me to take off. The result of running at our own pace was what I was hoping for, but the hurt feelings and passive-aggressive response was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I tried to talk to him about it to make it a discussion so there would be no hurt feelings, but he wanted none of it. He’d rather I just go, so that’s what I did.

While I ran, I thought about how to deal with the fallout of this. It made sense to me that we work out together, but we needed to do it in a way that benefited us both. I was going to resent it if I wasn’t getting the full potential out of the workout, and that benefits no one. That’s when I came up with a solution:

When we ran together, we would start out together at a warm-up pace. When I was sufficiently warmed up, I would pick up the pace and run ahead of him. When I felt I was half way through the workout, I would turn around and pick him up on the way back. When I overtook him, I would slow down to a cool down pace. I thought it the perfect solution.

It’s also basically what we were doing. When I turned around, I quickly came to find myself right behind him. As we ran, I proposed this new idea, but he still wasn’t having any part of it. I realized I was in a losing battle, and this would have to be addressed later when his ego healed.

Working out in the gym was also a whole other battle. When I go to the gym I like to be by myself. I do not treat it as a social excursion. I am there to work out and go home. I don’t even like spotting someone when they ask me for help. I resent it because I am there for my workout, not theirs. I don’t ask anyone else to spot me. I am not a trainer or an employee. Why should I be “working” at the gym? I know this sounds very antisocial, and that’s exactly what it is. I’m not the biggest fan of lifting. I see it as a necessary evil. I want to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.

When CK asked me to lift with him all the time, I was very hesitant. I loved him, but I was so used to lifting by myself. I knew if we did this together, I would get cranky, and it would start a fight. I was trying to save us from that. I also liked to go to the gym during my lunch break at work, so when he would ask me to hit the gym with him in the morning or the evening, I wouldn’t want to. I would want to use that time for far more fun things.

It was going to be a delicate balance, trying to integrate our lives, but eventually we would find equilibrium. Both sides would have to make sacrifices and concessions, but both sides would benefit from each other as well. Needless to say, CK was the first guy I’d gone to these steps with. It was new territory for me, but it was certainly exciting as well!

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Glued to the Bed

Waking up with one of the sexiest men I’d ever met, Clark Kent, in my arms would make any morning spectacular. On top of that, I had no obligations to fulfill that day. It was Saturday, and I was ready to lounge around. Sure I had plans to go to the gym and grocery store, but that would wait until much later. Right then, there was a gorgeous specimen of a man in my bed, and I wasn’t going to let him go to waste.

I cuddled and snuggled with him. It was finally 11:00am when I was conscious enough to remain awake for more than a few seconds to shift our spooning positions. I don’t think there was a moment we weren’t in contact with each other throughout the night. Even when we were sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, my hand was on his thigh.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke, things started slow and progressed rather quickly. We were both naked before we knew it. Eventually, we found ourselves in a familiar position. I had my face buried in his backside. He always derived great pleasure from this, and I wasn’t shy about delivering. I even pulled out some of the tricks I learned in the Tickle My Tush book once again. Oral penetration eventually led to full penetration. He felt amazing, and I was not in any hurry to stop. Every thrust was better than the last, however, whenever I slowed the pace to both give myself a break and to enjoy the friction, he would protest, “DON’T STOP!” I picked the pace back up again and pushed as deep as I could go. He let out constant moans of pleasure, this time at a decent volume until he needed to stop to catch his breath.

He immediately turned over to face me with a look of exhaustion/excitement in his eyes. “Baby! You feel AMAZING!” he exclaimed. I dove on top of him and began to kiss him passionately. I told him how great he felt as well between zealous kisses. I took his legs and lifted them high and began to penetrate him again. It felt incredible. When I finally stopped, he said, “I love when you take me from behind, but this way… I dunno. You just hit the spot every time!”

We laid intertwined with each other enjoying the moment. We had great sexual chemistry. It had been such a long time since I’d shared that on top of chemistry outside the bedroom. Standard issue seemed to be one or the other as of late. CK was the full package.

After considerable amounts of cuddling, he climbed on top of me while I arched my back and gave him everything he wanted. I knew that morning my roommate’s friend slept over. I’d already heard them up and talking. I was a bit reserved in my morning romp with CK out of slight embarrassment. While I didn’t care if they knew I was having sex, I didn’t want to be overly loud about it. I buried my face in the pillow and let out my grunts and moans through a heavy down filter. When the moment hit, he pulled out and finished on my back.

Most straight women don’t understand this, but when a guy finishes on you, it can be incredibly hot, not something to turn your nose up at. It is a sign that you truly excite them. For me it’s validation, and it’s an incredible aphrodisiac. Many times, seeing a guy shoot is what it takes for me to finish as well. He asked where I kept the towels, but I was incapable of words. Only grunts came out. I tried with all my might to use my arm to reach down to my nightstand drawer, but no matter how much I concentrated, I could not move. I finally gave in and just lay there accepting defeat. “I’m glued to the bed,” I told him. “You will be glued if you roll over onto your back,” he added through a laugh. My body was in full orgasm. After about ten minutes, I regained composure and handed him a towel to wipe my back.

We rotated and lay in each other’s embrace. I was enjoying everything about him. He was witty. He was fun and adventurous. He was smart. He was incredibly sexy. Most of all he was passionate and caring. He was exactly what I needed – Exactly what I was looking for. We enjoyed the embrace for some time before he finally began orally pleasuring me – One of his favorite activities.

This time it felt amazing. I closed my eyes and concentrated on how good it felt. I imagined penetrating him and his mouth being his insides. It felt amazing. I thought about how good it would feel to explode inside of him, and that’s when it finally happened. I gave out a warning, and began to explode like a fountain. CK was greatly excited by this and took advantage. “Wow! You really weren’t kidding. Hidden talent indeed,” he added. I simply smiled and began giggling from his gentle touch tickling me.

I was so incredibly relieved. I’d finally finished with him. I didn’t want him to take it personally or worse, think I was broken. I told him early on of my issue, but he seemed to be quite understanding of it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t bring it up periodically, further stressing me on the issue, but regardless, I finished and made him happy.

We made our way to the shower, where the fun only continued. We quickly found ourselves back in bed together sans clothing or towels. We just lay intertwined for almost an hour. We’d already spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon together in bed. He was answering texts on his phone periodically and showed me a text from his mother. It mentioned being at [One Gay At A Time’s] and her reply was: “Hoboken sounds nice. Why don’t you look for a place there?” However, he told me he couldn’t afford any studios in Hoboken. I was touched he’d mentioned me to his mother and was excited he actually entertained the idea of living in Hoboken.

When my empty stomach couldn’t take it anymore, I suggested I make us breakfast. I told him to stay in bed while I whipped something up. I took some of my world-class pork and apple sausages out of the freezer, scrambled some eggs with cheddar cheese, and buttered some toast. I returned to the room to get his coffee flavor or choice and let him know breakfast was ready. He emerged shortly thereafter and joined me for breakfast. “If you’re trying to win me over, you’re going about it all the right way!” he said after shoveling some of the sausage into his mouth. This was the second time I’d heard him say this.

After we finished eating we made our way to the couch. We were both shirtless the entire morning and afternoon. My roommates and their friends came and went and we paid them no attention. We watched TV and movies all afternoon. When it was getting to be about 4:00, he admitted defeat and suggested he just stay. He wasn’t going to make any progress finding an apartment at that point, and he much rather stay with me anyway. With that, we both smoked a little and enjoyed each other’s company in front of the TV.

We ordered Mediterranean for dinner, opened a special bottle of Malbec I’d been saving for the right guy and had more of the pineapple upside down cake for dessert. We watched Bridesmaids and other movies the rest of the night. We stayed on the couch all day until we both passed out. When he finally woke me, it was 1:30am, and we made our way to bed. I was exhausted, and I’d done absolutely nothing all day long. It was some of the best absolutely nothing I’ve ever done. Every last second of it.

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Superman Returns

Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.

I barely knew him, but I could already tell we were quite a match. On top of that, we weren’t even done the first date before he planned to see me again. It was his suggestion for us to catch The Hunger Games Saturday morning while we had breakfast.

I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.

I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.

He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!

We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.

We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.

We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!

When the movie was over, we made our way to the street and discussed the film while we walked. This was his second time seeing the movie. He expressed interest in reading the book, and I strongly encourage him to. I was already part of the way through the second book in the series of three.

We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.

When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.

He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.

We stopped by Pinkberry on the way back to his rooftop as per his request. We ordered ice cream and shared spoonfuls with each other as we walked up the street. When we got back to his place, we headed straight to the roof.

We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.

After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.

Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”

Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.

I told him it was a very long time for me since any guy had been inside me. I told him he’d have to go VERY slow. He began to slide in when I gripped his leg and implored him to stop. He told me to relax and just hold it there, but I insisted he pull out. I needed a break before we could continue. I know he thought it would be better if he simply held it there, but I was being painfully stretched. He wasn’t exactly a small guy — Quite the opposite. He pulled out, and I could see the disappointment on his face. He thought that was it, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I just needed a second to relax again. He began kissing me in a caring way. It was as if it was his way of saying, “I never want to hurt you again.” When I regain composure, I directed him to begin again. Delight spread across his face at this news.

This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.

He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.

We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?

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Hoboken Seconds

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

After our date on Monday, I wasn’t sure when I’d see Chelsea again. Things were moving forward at a nice pace, but I still wasn’t diving in like I normally do. What was holding me back? Was I finally going about things the right way? Was I not fully interested in him?

That Tuesday was his last day in his current role at his job. He went out celebrating with coworkers, and when they were nearing the end of their evening of drinks and fun, he texted to ask if he could come by. Two days in a row. I certainly didn’t have a problem with that. He obviously wanted to see me, and I was very happy about that. One of his coworkers lives across the street from me, and they were able to share a car. I told him I’d be thrilled if he came over.

When he arrived, I could tell he was quite tipsy. It was cute how he couldn’t hold his liquor. Alcohol gets him quite lubricated. He was very flirtatious once again, as he was at the end of our first date. Everyone was buying him drinks since he was no longer be working out of that office. His new territory was Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, etc.

We started with some kissing when he walked in the door. I took his hand and led him to my bedroom. He was wearing a full suit, so I found him some more comfortable clothes. In the middle of changing, we began to fool around. It was fun. He was a good kisser, and we were making out all over my bed. I liked having someone of the same size to hold, kiss and roll around with. This time around, he certainly wasn’t shy about being in just his briefs. We had a lot of fun with each other and still no sex. And, I was fine with this. I knew things would progress slowly, and I was quite happy about that. ( I was missing sex a little).

He was a sweet guy, but that night was a little different. I saw a side of him I hadn’t only caught a glimpse of. A lot of his drama started pouring out, and I realized he had just been trying to keep it all down in an attempt to not scare me off. Now, I was getting to see the real Chelsea. I went to bed with a different picture in my head. Was this what was holding me back? Did I think maybe he was a bit too gay for me?

We watched TV and ate some dinner. a lot of the little things I ignored previously were bothering me that night. We went to bed at a reasonable hour. After sleeping together twice and it not ending well, I made a suggestion at the risk of sounding cold. I told him there was no need for us to snuggle while we slept. I tried to be honest and realistic about it. I said, “We can cuddle and snuggle, and when we’re ready to fall asleep, we can curl up on opposite sides of the bed. That way you will get a good night’s rest.” I also took this as the opportunity to tell him I wanted to go for a run the following morning. I was finally getting into a workout groove, and I didn’t want to throw it off. I could sneak out while he was still sleeping, and when I returned we could get ready to head into the city together. With that, we both went to sleep on opposite sides of my California King bed.

I woke in the morning and quietly snuck out to pound the pavement. I had a good run. I needed to clear my head, and the run was just the ticket. When I returned, I hopped in the shower. When I came out of the shower, I gently woke Chelsea. Normally, I would have slipped back into bed with him to cuddle, but I wasn’t feeling it. It was then I realized I wasn’t particularly sexually attracted to him. He was very shy about his body, and while I enjoyed the slower timeline and waiting, a part of me knew it was an important part of the relationship I couldn’t ignore. I’d sacrificed that in the past too many times. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I continued to get ready. I was pretty quiet, but then again, I usually am after I work out. I’m also not a morning person to begin with. I either get quiet or I become combative, as my mother learned many a time riding home from swim practice in high school. There was little talk and discussion as we got ready for work/for him to head back home. When we emerged from my room, I found a mess left by my roommate. I detailed to him why I was so annoyed and how this was a common occurrence.

The walk to the PATH wasn’t exactly full of chatter either. I struggled to think about things to talk about. I fixated on his new job and asking the questions about how he was going to handle it. Subconsciously, I was noticing all the things in the back of my head I’d brushed aside once again. Now, my cons list was growing.

When we got to his stop, I gave him a quick peck on the lips. I could tell it made him uncomfortable, but I was trying to force myself to stop being ashamed of being gay. If he were a woman, I’d have had no problem kissing her to say goodbye on the PATH. Why should I censor myself just because he was a man?

Later that day, I received a text from him asking me if everything was okay, or was it my roommate. I blamed my quietness on being annoyed with my roommate, but in reality, I was no longer looking at him as a prospect.

That weekend, I went shopping with my friend, P. While at the Woodbury Common Outlets, I got a text from Chelsea asking, “Will I see you at the end of the week?” I didn’t want to drag this out. I decided in my mind I was no longer interested. It was going to be tough to convince myself otherwise. I replied, “[Chelsea], I don’t want to lead you on or anything, but I’ve been giving it some thought. I just don’t know if we’re a strong match. You’re a really nice guy, I just don’t know you’re the guy for me. I want someone who is going to be around more… That’s important to me. Hope you understand.” Immediately, he responded, “Yup. I feel the same way :). Anyways, all good here. Please do me a favor and put me in touch with your friend about subletting my apartment, and I’ll see you sometimes in the city :).” I don’t know if that was his way of protecting himself emotionally or if it is how he truly felt. Either way, it was a clean break. All was good, and we could still be friends if we ran into each other in the future.

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