Posts Tagged parking
Wednesday afternoon, I went from having no dates to having two. I managed to schedule seeing two guys in the span of a few hours. I was being efficient at my “job.”
On my way home from a purely average date in Hell’s Kitchen, I once again checked Grindr for messages. The guy who I spoke to that morning happened to be on. We chatted a bit, but again, that’s another story for another day.
I already lined up a date with the guy I’ve been talking to for about a month. We texted a few times about meeting up but nothing ever materialized. I Facebook stalked him and found him very curious. He was VERY athletic, which I liked a lot, but we didn’t share a lot of the same athletic interests. He’s into skiing and cycling. I am not. It seemed we would get along, but I just wasn’t quite sure about him. The night could go either way.
He agreed to come over and share a bottle of wine. It was a little unconventional, but it was getting a bit late for a coffee shop, and this was a much easier solution. He was fully onboard.
He drove over and found parking rather quickly, which is a miracle in Hoboken. When he arrived, I buzzed him in and greeted him at the door with a hug. We went into the kitchen and sat at the counter to chat a bit. While we talked, I opened a bottle of wine, opened a box of wheat thins and cut up some cheese.
The conversation began with my neighbors. He used to live with one of the gay men my roommate and I spotted across the street in another apartment. I detailed for him how we watch them periodically since they’ve peaked our curiosity. I told him about the St. Patty’s party he missed and how we tried to get their attention.
Then we started talking about work. I learned he pretty much did exactly what Smiles did. It was that moment I noticed how he somewhat resembled Smiles in stature and look. He too had a shaved head. On top of that, there was the commonality of the excessive training and triathlons. It didn’t bother me because there were distinct differences, but it caught my attention. They were similar in job, lifestyle, legal problems, look, hobbies, etc. It was uncanny.
Through our conversation I immediately noticed his sense of humor. He seemed like a really great guy. I was consistently laughing with him about things, and we were hitting it off pretty swimmingly. I loved his sense of humor. We got each other pretty well.
When my roommate came home, he jumped right in with her, chatting her up while she navigated the kitchen. I found this very attractive. He could start a conversation with someone on the fly well. It was kind of a turn on.
After a long awkward pause, we both went in for a kiss. I liked that I wasn’t kissing him. We were kissing each other. We both came to the same thought at the same time. We kissed passionately on my bar stools for some time before we stopped. He said, “We should have done that sooner.” I agreed through my smile. With that, we continued kissing each other. He was a decent kisser. I wished he was better because I was really enjoying his company. I just wished I could teach him to open his mouth more when he kissed. We kept kissing for a long time before it was finally time for him to go home. I kissed him goodbye and said goodnight. After he left, he gave me his phone number. Apparently, the number I’d been given was his “office” line through Google. I told him I had a really great time and apologized for keeping him past his curfew. He responded, “Me too. Looking forward to getting to know you.” I responded, “Likewise. Still smiling.” He told me he was as well, until his class in five hours. “Goodnight handsome,” he added.
In the morning, he was up early for spin class. I texted him when I woke to see if he made it through spin class. Not only that, he made it to yoga as well. We texted back and forth and discussed when we’d see each other again. We made tentative plans for the following week. Finally, I met someone who got my blood flowing — Someone who got me excited!Follow @onegayatatime
After my tryst with the Armenian and the Asian, I decided to order some real dinner. This was the last night I was on the company dollar, so I ordered some room service. While I waited, I chatted with the guy who wanted to come by later in the night. I sat and ate my meal in bed with just the TV to keep me company. I was feeling lonely, which is such a strange emotional state to be in considering I’d just shared one of the most intimate acts with two other men.
When midnight arrived, I started texting my late night snack. I asked him what he thought his E.T.A. would be. He told me it was still up the air, but he was definitely coming by. He was out with friends and would swing by on his way home.
Finally, around 2:00am, he texted he was finding parking and would be by shortly. Ten minutes later, I had a knock at the door, for the third time in a matter of hours.
He was a very nice polite black man who was anxious to spend some time with me. He seemed very young and innocent. We chatted a bit while sitting on the bed before any action began. It was getting late, and as rude as this sounds, I was ready to get it in and go to bed. I wanted a nightcap so I could doze off soundly till the morning.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We had A LOT of foreplay and prep before anything happened. He really wanted to cuddle for a long time before we could even get frisky. I was almost ready to call it quits and ask him to leave. It was getting late, and I was getting tired.
There was a lot of kissing. A lot of heavy petting. A lot of licking and sucking. Finally, he was ready and got into position for me to penetrate him. I could tell this wasn’t a guy who gave it up to just anyone. Normally, I’m really into the foreplay and making out, but I’d already had my engine warmed up earlier that evening. In fact, the car had been taken around the block a few times.
I’d saved my climax for him and quickly learned this was a big mistake. He was very bad. We didn’t go for very long because I really wasn’t getting anything out of it. Finally, I stopped and rolled onto my back. I tossed yet another condom in the trash and started taking care of myself. He laid next to me and asked me to finish on his chest. I obliged his request, and he followed suit shortly after.
I knew he was going to be a lingerer. I tried to cut that off at the pass. I humored him for a short bit of time before I finally spoke up and said how I needed to get to bed. It was past 3:00am. It was time for him to go! He got the hint and got dressed. While he did so, he asked if we could hang out again while I was in town. He told me how much he enjoyed himself. I didn’t shoot him down, but I didn’t exactly give him the answer he was looking for. I told him I’d have to see what my schedule allowed for. I told him I was trying to get the most out of my vacation in L.A.
With that, I said goodbye, shut the door, showered all the men of the night away, and climbed into bed to dream about the sunny sandy beach I would be visiting the following day.Follow @onegayatatime
Ever since my first date with Prince Charming, I have been trying to see him again. With the exception of being unavailable often because of his job as a flight attendant (soon to be pilot), he was everything I was looking for in a man. I thought about him often, but tried to curb my excitement for fear I would find myself disappointed.
We spoke on the phone for an extended period of time while I was in Martha’s Vineyard to try to plan a time we could get together. It was nice to get to hear the sound of his voice again. He told me his upcoming schedule and planned to get together the Wednesday after my return from vacation. He would be coming off a long working weekend in Scottland Tuesday evening.
When Tuesday rolled around, I started to become worried about the potential for Wednesday. I was back to work and knew the full scope of work laid out for the week. We had a pitch that Friday that would lead to me traveling to Memphis Thursday afternoon. I knew my Wednesday night was going to be stolen by work. Tuesday when he landed, he sent me a text message. I near lept for joy. I was thrilled he reached out to me. I was on his mind. I texted him back on my walk home from work. It was pouring outside, but I still had a smile on my face.
I took the opportunity to warn him I possibly would be unable to meet Wednesday. I asked him what the chances were I could see him that night instead. I knew he was tired from the long trans-Atlantic flight, so I proposed ordering take-out and a movie on the couch, even though I owed him a home-cooked meal from scratch. It was already 7:00, and I had no time to plan out and cook a meal to the extent I would need to impress him after his spectacular creation for me.
Surprisingly, he bit. Once I explained both my roommates would be out of the apartment, he agreed to come over. I was shocked at how little convincing he needed after telling me how exhausting that flight is. He said he would have to shower and get ready to come by. He was moving at a snail’s pace after waking up from a nap and apologized for such. He asked for my understanding. I told him to take whatever time he needed, as long as it meant he was coming over. I was literally blissfully walking through puddles as I texted back to him. I didn’t care what was going on around me. I had a smile from ear to ear, and two very wet shoes.
When I got home, I cleaned my room and showered. He asked me to find a good Italian restaurant to order from. I called my Italian ex-roommate to ask which one he preferred since I respected his taste in Italian cuisine. I set the menu on the counter and waited for him to call. I instructed him to pull up in front of my apartment, and I would hop in the car to help him find a parking space. He already resented Hoboken and its lack of parking. Anything I could do to offset that would work in my favor.
He drove around for quite a while before finally calling me. It was a downpour outside, so parking was even more at a premium. He pulled up and I hopped in the car. I leaned across the car and gave him a kiss. We drove around for twenty minutes without finding a single space that wasn’t flooded out. He said the only other option was to go to his place, but he would have to drive me home late at night because his roommate (the one that isn’t his ex) was coming home at 5:00am. I didn’t question it at the time, but a huge red flag went off in my head. Why did it matter if his roommate came home? It had to have something to do with living with his ex. When he brought me over to his apartment the fist time, no one else was home. He was hiding something, even if he told me in full disclosure he lived with his exboyfriend who he was separated from. At that point, I suggested he drive home and take a cab to my apartment, but he was ready to give up.
He asked me to give him credit for the effort, but I wasn’t satiated. I wanted to spend time with him. He made me happy. The parking situation was ruining my night. It had nothing to do with not getting sex. I just wanted to spend time getting to know him.
He drove back to my apartment and dropped me off. I gave him a few kisses and went on my way. I walked back into the apartment like a defeated soldier. We agreed to try for the following evening, but I had very low expectations for that. It was late, and I was starving. I found some frozen food in the freezer that was easy to heat up, and I sat on the couch for the remainder of the evening alone with the TV remote.
The following evening, I found out I would not be at work that late. I texted him immediately, only to find he was unable to come over. He had an early training flight the next morning. We agreed to shoot for the following Tuesday to meet up again. From that moment on, I resolved myself to not get my hopes up. The new discovery about the sneaking around his roommates did not bode well for progress between us.
The following Monday, I sent him a text asking if I would get to see him. After getting no response, on Tuesday I followed up with a phone call but still didn’t receive a response. When Friday came along, and he signed on Grindr, I messaged him to ask if he was avoiding me. I also sent a text, should he not get my Grindr message. I wasn’t going to stalk him, but I was shocked he would treat me like this after telling me how much he enjoyed my company. He finally responded, “I am going through some things with my ex, and I don’t want to drag anyone into the middle of it.” I immediately replied, “I have to respect that, but I have to tell you, I’m very disappointed.” He texted back, “I understand and apologize.” That wasn’t an acceptable apology for ignoring me. I thought he was different and would treat me with respect. If he told me that instead of avoiding me, I would have had to accept it and move on. It’s just the games I don’t appreciate.
Who knows if it really was his ex or if he just lost interest in me. I will never know. I followed up with a text saying, “That doesn’t mean we can’t grab a friendly drink sometime at the bar. Don’t be a stranger.” I still needed friends as much as I needed a lover. I was willing to accept that level with him since I thought he was such a good guy. However, he must feel differently. I haven’t heard from him since…Follow @onegayatatime
Friday had come and gone on the island, and I behaved myself. I was trying to enjoy my time with my friends and stop thinking about finding a guy to hang out with, hookup or not. But, when Saturday rolled around and most of my friends were all coupled up, I started feeling lonely once again.
We went to a bar in Oak Bluff, Offshore Ale Company, to pregame for a night on the town. We ordered plates of french fries and tried some of the many beers they offered on tap. Everyone was well on their to a drunk night.
Throughout the night, I texted the Russian and tried to get him to come out to the bar. He wasn’t interested. However, he was quite horny and was looking to meet up with me. He proposed we hit up a remote stretch of beach between Oak Bluff and Vineyard Haven. He told me he’d drive over and pick me up in twenty minutes. I had patchy service everywhere on the island (Thanks for nothing T-Mobile!), so I was worried he wasn’t going to be able to reach me. Ironically, that night at the bar, I had exceptional service, but almost forty minutes passed by with no word from him. I texted, but I received no response.
I figured he was either running behind or something came up, so I contined to hang out with my friends. Ironically, I ran into my college teammate’s best friend whom I’ve drank with many times in Hoboken. We chatted a bit before he needed to leave, and then I made my way back to the rest of the gang.
I excused myself to go outside to call the Russian and see what was up. I told everyone I’d be back in a minute after I made a phone call. When I got outside, I saw him standing by his car. He apologized for not getting back to me because he forgot his phone at home. I hopped in his car, and we left for the beach. I texted one of my friends to explain I wasn’t coming back in the bar, but I would join up with them later in the night.
We pulled off the road into a small parking lot by the beach. Just as we were walking down to the sand, another car pulled up. We figured we’d need to walk a bit to get out of site of the new arrivals. It didn’t help the moon was bright that night. (Warning: The following may be too graphic for some). When we found a spot, we started to make out. He unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. He got down on his knees in the sand and went to town. He felt amazing. Already, this was much better than the ginger and the construction site. All attention was coming to me, and I was basking in it. He took off his sweatshirt and laid it on the ground and laid down on his back on top of it. I laid on top of him. By now, both our shirts were off and our pants were around our ankles.
We agreed there would be no penetration, but we were going to have our fun in other ways. And, boy did we. We tried many positions and permutations, trying to avoid getting sandy at all times. After we finished decorating the sand, we got dressed carefully and walked back to the car. The last thing I wanted was to spend the rest of the night at the bar with sand in my clothes and boxers. We sat on the hood of the car and shared a cigarette. When it was finished, we hopped in, and he drove me back to town where my friends were drinking and dancing at the bar.
I arrived too late and was not granted access, however, this worked out well because some friends were heading home anyway. I joined them to head home for some late-night mac n’ cheese.
It was nice to have a friend with benefits on the island. He lived on the island year-round and makes his living in various ways, one of which is photography. This would be the last action I got on my vacation, but that didn’t mean the conversation ended there.
Since leaving Martha’s Vineyard, I became Facebook friends with the Russian. The Boston guy with the girlfriend has made it a point to text and email me the dates he is coming to New York City. The ginger photojournalist has texted me once to reiterate the good time he had and to ask how the rest of my vacation was going once he arrived back in D.C. Overall, it was a nice ego boost. Apparently I’m that good and hot enough they felt the need to followup.
Most likely, I will never see any of them again, but I take with me some fun memories and new experiences. Just as my vacation was ending, my priorities began to shift. Sex was starting to severely lose its mystique. It tends to do that when you have meaningless sex. I needed a change and this was a good transition point. When I got home, things were going to be different — Or at least that was the plan…Follow @onegayatatime