Posts Tagged patient
The Move
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 19, 2012
Nothing really puts stress on a relationship quite like a move. One year had gone by for CK in The Big Apple. He moved to the city in a hurry, finding a nice apartment in a convenient neighborhood, but because of the rush, he ended up paying more than one would like living in New York City. There are plenty of things to see and do in the city that never sleeps, so spending all your money on rent is no fun!
He decided when his lease was up, it was time to find new living quarters. This was quite stressful, not only for him, but also for me. Selfishly, he lived two avenues and a few blocks from my office. I could easily walk there, and commuting to his place from mine in Hoboken was a snap. Chances are, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
When he told me he started looking on the Lower East Side, I was nonplussed. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hike to get to his place every time I came to see him. The Lower East Side is only convenient to get to from one place — The Lower East Side. But, in the end, this wasn’t my decision. I was there to be supportive while he went through the stress of trying to find a new place.
When the search expanded out to include Brooklyn, I nearly had a panic attack. Screw hike — Brooklyn was going to be a day’s journey to get to from Hoboken. I was petrified for our relationship. I wasn’t sure at the time if our relationship could survive the stress on a day-to-day basis.
Finally, after his mother flew to NYC to help him pack and find a new apartment, he landed in a sweet spot. I was thrilled with the final outcome. He managed to find a room in an apartment in a managed building in Hell’s Kitchen with two roommates. I had experience in Hell’s Kitchen. Broadway lived in Hell’s Kitchen, and I was able to walk to work from his apartment. It was also very convenient for me because Port Authority wasn’t far from his apartment, so I could use the bus system. It was the quickest way to travel when heading to or from that part of town. I felt very comfortable in HK as well. I’d taken more than a handful of dates to that neighborhood. The gay population was large enough that no one looked twice at two men holding hands or sharing a kiss.
When the time came to move, I wanted to run and hide. I’d dealt with CK’s attention span before, but nothing of this caliber. I thought it nearly impossible to keep him on task so this move would go as smoothly as possible. Even with the help of his mother, there was still a lot of work to be done. CK isn’t the best planner in the world either. While the idea of booking moving men a few weeks in advance or gathering boxes crossed his mind, the action and follow-through never occurred.
I was trying to be patient. He was going through a lot. I was going to help him, not out of obligation, but out of love. He needed me, and I was going to be there for him, however, it was going to take a lot of strength and biting my tongue to get through this.
I agreed to help him pack things up Thursday after work. I had limited time, however, because I had a volleyball game that evening. I left work as soon as I could and arrived with flat boxes for him from my mail department. We made a lot of progress, but it certainly wasn’t without a lot of comments. I do have to say, it went a lot better than I expected. It certainly could have been a lot worse. Luckily I had a built-in time limit, and the time came for me to head back to Jersey.
We both took the following day off from work. After many failed attempts to get a truck, borrow someone’s car, book movers, we decided to try to rent a Zipcar. This of course wasn’t going to work because there is an application period. Although we were able to walk over to one of their offices in New York City, we had to wait for him to be approved to rent a car. We wasted most of the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what to do and lying around. After growing incredibly frustrated with the poor use of our time, I decided to stop worrying. I tried to keep my frustration to myself. While I was going to be there to offer my support, in the end this wasn’t going to be my problem. If he drug his feet long enough, this was either going to become his huge hassle or it would increase his financial burden.
There were rides in the back of a van with boxes and potholes. There were things packed at the bottom of a box only to be torn open again. There were enough dust bunnies to start a farm. The list goes on…
Of course, there were copious amounts of arguing. We rarely agreed on anything, but we did both make an effort not to rile the other up. When we finally got all his things in a rented U-Haul van, we had to wait outside in the cold/drizzle until his roommate came downstairs to let us into the elevator bank. His roommate still hadn’t given him the key, so we had yet one more person to rely on to be responsible.
After a little blood, a lot of sweat and almost some tears, we managed to get everything into his apartment. Beyond that, we managed to get all of his belongings into his bedroom. The only thing that saved us was the fact that he didn’t have a bed yet. He left his old bed behind in the previous apartment and hadn’t ordered a new one yet. Of course, it would take some time before things got unpacked. The lack of bed also meant we had to head back to Hoboken every night so we had somewhere to sleep.
It was a very stressful weekend, but in the end, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, it could have gone smoother, but in the end, everything worked out. I was happy to help my man, and I know he truly appreciated my help. And the fact that we survived something as stressful as this told me we could survive just about anything.
Follow @onegayatatimePlanning for a Future
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 25, 2012
Thursday morning, I woke up to a kiss from CK. I loved waking up this way. It was so much better than an alarm clock. The night before, we had a deliciously fun night involving lobsters.
I warned him that morning I most likely wouldn’t be seeing him that night. I had a pitch the following day, and I was expecting to be at work a little later to prepare.
We made our way to the PATH to go to work — Late, of course, from fooling around. I’m always horniest in the morning. I simply can’t keep my hands off him.
We texted back and forth all afternoon, talking about how much we missed each other already. We were that sickening couple who are so incredibly happy together you want to hurl, but then you recognize the love, and it makes you all warm inside.
Just as I suspected, I had to work late. I wouldn’t make it to volleyball that night, but I still held out hope I could swing by his place before heading home when I finished work, if even just to give him a kiss.
When I had a break in the evening, I stepped away to call him. I thought I’d be done at a fairly reasonable hour to swing by, but as time progressed, that seemed like less and less of a good idea. I felt bad because I felt like I was letting him down.
I finally finished around midnight. I called him on my way home to say goodnight. He asked me about my day, and while I was explaining it to him, he fell asleep on me. I couldn’t be mad about that. He didn’t do it on purpose. He was tired. I found it cute and funny actually.
I did really need him though. It was a very stressful day at work, and all I wanted was his warm embrace to make it all melt away. I wasn’t going to get that though. It made no sense for him to come out to my place that night because I had to head to the pitch out in Jersey early in the morning. I would have to be patient and wait until Friday evening to see him again.
I finally made it to bed around two am. I had to get up at six am. I am not a morning person, so clearly I wasn’t a happy camper. All I wanted to do was stay in bed with my babe. I hopped in the car service and made my way out to the offices of the company we were pitching.
As I was setting up the room for the meeting, I noticed a text from CK wishing me luck. It was incredibly cute and sweet. My heart melted a little, and I couldn’t wait to see him and thank him for his words of encouragement. They meant the world to me. He was considerate enough to remember what I was doing and wish me luck.
When my meeting ended, I called CK on my ride home. I didn’t need to go back to the office, so I had some time to myself. He told me his two friends, who were dating each other, wanted to go see another movie with us. They wanted to see Battleship. I wasn’t entirely thrilled to go see this, but I had no better plans or idea, so I agreed. I didn’t care what we were seeing. As long as I was sitting next to CK, I was happy.
We decided to grab dinner before the movie. We went to a cute Greek restaurant not far from his apartment, Ethos. We were seated and ordered our appetizers. The food was great, and the company was even better. Our conversation flowed like the wine over our lips. We were so entranced with each other, we didn’t realize what time it was. We had very little time before the movie was about to start. We flagged down our waitress and asked her to pack up our entrées to-go. We would drop them off at his apartment on the way to the theater and have them later. We quickly paid and flagged down a cab.
He stopped in front of CK’s place while he ran upstairs to put the food in the fridge. The movie was starting in two minutes. I sat in the cab waiting and waiting. I knew he wasn’t just putting the food in the fridge. That’s when I realized he was smoking. I texted him and told him to stop smoking and get his a$$ back down to the cab. He came down, and we continued on to the theater. Boy, did I have him pegged already. We picked up our tickets quickly and made our way upstairs to the theater. I told him I needed to use the facilities before heading in, and he gave me an annoyed look. I wasn’t going to feel one ounce of guilt for that considering what was part of the reason we were late.
We got into the theater just as the last preview was playing. Luckily we didn’t miss anything. I enjoyed holding CK’s hand throughout the movie, but the movie itself left a lot to be desired. I jokingly equated everything in the film to Top Gun while he responded with jokes of his own. I was dozing off about half way through. I only had four hours of sleep the night before, and a boring movie was not going to keep my attention. I went out to the snack stand to get a Coke to keep me awake.
Although the movie was bad, I still had fun with him. It was a good time. When the movie ended, we said goodbye to the other couple and made our way back to his apartment. Surprisingly, I wasn’t hungry, so I elected to save my dinner for breakfast the following morning.
I was so tired, I also elected to forgo dessert — Sex. We cuddled in bed for a little while CK watched TV on his iPad. We talked a little, and he mentioned how his friend had mentioned the idea of the two of us living together. He responded to his friend, “Things are going great right now. I’m not about to ruin things right now. We’re not ready to live together. Not yet.” I agreed it was too soon, but I admitted to him I had entertained the idea. I wasn’t the happiest with my living situation, but we weren’t at that place yet. We chatted about living together down the road. He was surprised to learn that was something I’d be interested in. He thought he’d drive me nuts. There was nothing to date to make me think I couldn’t handle living with him. We’d spent a lot of time sleeping over at each other’s places. I looked forward to living with him one day.
He continued watching TV. I was exhausted, so I laid down and fell asleep within minutes.
Follow @onegayatatimeFast Forward
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on June 6, 2012
Sunday morning, I woke to find myself sleeping next to a gorgeous man once again. How lucky was I – Two nights in-a-row spent in the arms of Clark Kent.
The night before, CK asked me to promise to get him up and on with his day at an am hour. I agreed. When I woke, I glanced at the clock. It was 9:00am. My alarm wasn’t set for another forty-five minutes. I rolled over and pulled CK into my tight embrace, cradling his entire body with mine. We fit together like intricate puzzle pieces. We became so entangled in each other, we jokingly called it forking. I didn’t fully wake him. He let out a tiny groan of pleasure when I pulled him in tight.
This, of course, wasn’t enough for me. I wanted more. No, not sex – Body contact. I began to remove his briefs, and he willingly aided my attempt. I followed suit and removed my own boxer briefs so our bodies would be pressed against each other skin-to-skin. I enjoyed his touch so much. He felt amazing. I fell asleep in this position until my alarm woke us at 9:45. He asked me what time it was, and I told him. His only response was, “Too early.” He grabbed my arm, rolled to his other side, and pulled my arm around him fully engulfing him.
He was such a sweetheart. We cuddled for quite some time. Periodically we’d switch positions when one of our arms would lose feeling. This was always accompanied with a myriad of kisses.
I hadn’t completely fallen for him. Why was this time different? There was nothing holding me back this time. Nothing, except myself. I was protecting myself. I didn’t bring my baggage with me on this trip, but I did bring my smarts. I knew it was too early to dive in with him. I wanted to build this the right way. If you rush the foundation, the building will collapse in due time. If you take the time to build a strong base, it can last a lifetime. I wanted to take my time. I was in no rush. Sure, I’m 28, but I still had a lot of my life in front of me to love, lose, and find love once again. I was proceeding with cautious optimism.
I think my caution goes back to our early interactions in which he propositioned me to come over for sex. I knew then and there I was dealing with a different kind of animal. Maybe he could be tamed. Maybe not. Only time would tell, but until I knew he could be tamed, I would protect myself.
The cuddling and kissing continued for some time. When my alarm rang again at 10:30, we were both a little more awake. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. He began, as he did many times, orally pleasuring me. He loved worshiping me in that way. I certainly wasn’t about to complain. I also made sure to return the favor. I know I’m pretty good, but it wasn’t as easy for me – He was a definite challenge. He was well endowed, and at times more than I could handle. He would get a little overzealous with his hands and my head, and I would find the need to pause to ensure I didn’t suffocate.
We continued to play in bed until there was a natural pause in the action. I suggested we hit the shower. I attempted to find a way to toss him over my shoulder. I knew I could pick him up, but tossing him like a sack of potatoes was a different story. I failed. I told him I was holding up my end of the bargain to get him moving before noon. He protested and said, “Not yet. Just two more minutes,” and pulled me in to cuddle more.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started to kiss again. Finally, he said, “Shall we?” I replied, “We shall.” With that, I scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom. We hopped in the shower, and I took the bar of soap and washed his entire body. I used my own body to build up a lather as well until I found myself grinding on his backside and him bending over moaning in pleasure. Things never escalated from there to full penetration, but the didn’t need to. What we were doing was hot enough. He took the opportunity to wash me as well, and while he was crouching, he also took the opportunity to orally pleasure me. We then continued to rinse ourselves off before drying off and getting dressed for the day.
I had small plans for us that morning. I knew he’d be thrilled to take a ride on the bike. It was a gorgeous day outside, and I also knew a money saving breakfast would also be welcomed. I used all my eggs the day before, and the only real option I had left was cereal. I had a Living Social deal to use up at Sonic. What a perfect way to use it. It was a five-minute ride away, and it would be nearly free.
We hopped on the bike and off we went. We ordered our breakfast and sat. While we waited for the food to arrive, he asked if it was alright that he call his mother back. She’d been calling periodically over the weekend. They talked about his apartment search. He also mentioned me by name and told her how amazing I am, especially since I cook. I was shocked. He’d already been talking to his mother about me!? What else did he tell her about me? His mother put his nephew on the phone and they chatted for a minute. It was incredibly adorable. I was so turned on seeing his reaction to talking to his nephew.
When the food arrived, he hung up and ate. We shared our ice creams, feeding each other periodic spoonfuls. While we ate, he shared his tweeted comment on his Foursquare check-in with me: “Meal: cost-effective + tasty, but the company I keep: priceless + delicious.” He got a phone call from his friend who was just released from the hospital. After more than a few times of trying to end the conversation he was finally successful. His whole mood changed. When we finished eating, we stood, and he said, ”So I wanted to fully discuss what it was I said I wanted to chat with you about.” I was under the impression we’d already done that. Now, I was worried.
“I really enjoy spending all this time with you. You’re amazing. I really enjoy being with you. And, if I had to put a label on it, I’d say we’re dating. That being said, I think we should still be able to date other people. And, I should recognize you probably noticed I blocked you on Grindr, and that was by design. It’s a policy I have because if you try to call me, and I don’t pick up. Maybe you see me on Grindr and your mind will start to come up with scenarios.” At this point I acknowledged my awareness of this and told him how I felt about it. He continued, “I’ve done it, I’m sure other do too. And, I also should tell you, there’s a friend I’ve also been seeing since the beginning of the year. We see each other about once a month, go out to dinner, and then, well, we’ve done more than friends things.” I stood there not speaking through this whole thing. I just listened and nodded in my own confusion. “This is only going to work if we have communication and are honest with each other. I just wanted you to know,” he added.
I thanked him for his honesty, and he added, “Once again, please just be patient with me.” I assured him I was in no rush. Again, I had no idea where this was coming from.
He then pointed out how one of his loyal followers liked his comment on Twitter. He explained to me how he was kinda a hero on Twitter. He’d received comments from guys who found the confidence to change their lives based on some of the things he’s said. This was my moment. I told him I had a similar situation, and I had a secret I was waiting until the right time to tell him about it. I explained how I had a blog and received emails of a similar nature. I told him one day I’d share my alter ego with him, but it was like reading my diary, so not just yet. He seemed to be happy about the idea and accepting of my delayed full explanation.
I was still a little taken back by what he said. Part of me appreciated the honesty and part of me was confused by it all. Regardless, we hopped on the motorcycle, and I dropped him off at the PATH to head home. As I said goodbye, I told him to call me later to tell me how the search went. I didn’t think too much about what he said the rest of the day. There would be plenty of time for all that.
That night, as I was climbing into bed, I got a text from CK: “Are you awake?” Seconds after replying, the phone rang. He did call as he promised. I’d begun to think he’d forgotten. He really just called to say goodnight. He’d fallen asleep and napped most of the evening. He was tired and ready for bed as well. I told him, “Now I will be going to bed with a smile on my face.” He replied, “Aww, baby, that’s sweet! Me too. Sweet dreams!” With that, I laid my head on the pillow with a smile across my face.
Follow @onegayatatimeTying Up Loose Ends
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 31, 2012
It was happening. I was falling for this great guy who managed to find me on Grindr. Who would have thought? I was still quite unsure how he felt about me, but I still had no luck finding a single fault in him.
I was prepared to take things slow with Clark Kent. I saw no need to rush things. Dating all these men in NYC helped me relax and enjoy things in real time. I didn’t need to think about what was coming next. I only needed to think about what was happening now. I was enjoying his company immensely.
That being said, I needed to tie up some loose ends. I had no desire to see any other guys while seeing CK. He was great, and he kept my attention. I didn’t want to wander and philander. I wanted him and him alone.
The first loose end to tie up was Southern Drawl. It took me two weeks to realize he wasn’t right for me. He’d gone home to the South to visit family, and it offered me a necessary reprieve from him. He sent me a few pictures from down there and a few texts. I responded in turn, but they were very short. When he asked how my day was going, I responded with what I’d done that day. “Well thanks for the play by play. Enjoy the rest of your week. Let me know if you wanna hang out again when I get back,” he responded. I wasn’t going to take that lying down. “Whoa! Where’s the hostility coming from?”
He apologized and explained he didn’t mean it that way. “How bout enjoy the rest of your week, and I look forward to hanging with you sometime when I get back 🙂 xoxo,” he added. I told him we only knew each other a short period of time and warned him not to get ahead of himself. I was using this turn of events to drive a rift between us.
He texted: “Well, that was a joke, but point taken. Wow! So I’ll go back to your statement from a few months ago. Ball is in your court. Otherwise, you won’t be hearing from me.” I reminded him to recall who picked that ball up again in the end. Then came the clincher: “Well, I guess I dropped it cause I’m being drunk and stupid again. Oh well. That ‘let’s not get ahead of ourselves’ $hit just irked me. So Grindr away, do your thing and hit me up if you want to hang out sometime. No hard feelings if not. I’ve learned my lesson about guys in the city and was a dumba$$ to think you could be different. But that’s my fault, not yours.”
I had my out. I wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that. I wasn’t going to try to foster a relationship with someone who made such accusations. We’d known each other two weeks, and I was already getting drunken rants. This wasn’t a good sign of what was to come.
In my book, he was done. I deserved an apology, and until I got one, I wasn’t going to communicate with him. I was going to give him a day to apologize. Just when I was about to inform him he’d killed any chance with me, he texted, “Had a rough night last night. Whiskey on the river. Bad combo.” This was an excuse, not an apology — Unacceptable. Two days later, I responded, “Still waiting for an apology. You were way out of line, and I did nothing to deserve your assumptions!”
He apologized profusely and cited more reasons why he’d been so harsh. “You’re an incredible guy, but if you never want to hang out again, I get it. But, for the record, I did miss talking to you and stuff this week,” he texted. He still seemed to be making excuses for himself. I didn’t respond. A day later, he said, “So, I guess that’s it then, huh?”
I was done with him. I told him from the start I don’t play these games. It seemed to be his mode of operation. I simply replied, “I think we should try friends for a bit. I get that you were drunk, but drunk minds speak a sober heart…” He asked if we could talk and tried calling me. I texted back telling him I was still at work, which was the truth. He started playing the martyr and going off on me. I told him to stop being so melodramatic. When I left work to grab dinner before returning to the office, I called him.
We talked for about a half hour. I explained to him all the things he did and how they were wrong. He didn’t even realize all the things he was doing. I pointed out how he was unloading all his baggage on me and how unfair that was. I did nothing to deserve that. I proposed we take a big step back and work on a legitimate friendship first. In reality, I was pretty much done with him. I was purely being polite. He was a decent guy, but he was a little broken.
He wasn’t satisfied with this and wanted to redeem himself, but I gave him an ultimatum. I said we could either be friends, or we could be nothing. That was his choice. It all depended on his future actions toward me.
As time progressed, and I was too busy to hang out with him when he asked me to, he began getting very snippy with me. I suggested a happy hour drink, but that went south fast. His sarcasm came out in full force until I said, “On second thought, maybe that was a bad idea.” I pointed out to him how combative he was toward me and said obviously this wasn’t going to work out between us. I gave him my work address so he could mail me back the sunglasses he borrowed from me. I didn’t even want to have to go through seeing him again. He’d gotten on my last nerve.
He told me how hurt he was by the whole thing, but I pointed out to him it was all of his own doing. He never treated me with trust and respect before he even had any reason to doubt me. I wasn’t going to take any more of his crap. I’d already dealt with enough. He couldn’t understand how his going off on a drunken tirade toward me was such a deal breaker. “It just doesn’t add up,” he said.
He was clearly hurting. I know this because he typed it out in black and white. “I’m miserable right now,” the text read.
He told me to delete him from my phone and he planned to delete me from his. In another instance, he said, “And for the record, I’m truly upset. You’re one of the good ones. And I’m a piece of $hit to write off apparently.” He wasn’t going to guilt me into liking him again. It was OVER!
That left two other loose ends to tie up. I had been meaning to text the Jersey City athlete for some time. He seemed like a really nice guy, and we got along great, but he was no CK. I needed to be fair to him and let him know what’s up. I texted him and said, “Hey dude. I def owe you a text and an explanation… I had a great time with you that one night, but at the same time, I’d also just met someone. I want to let you know I think you’re a great guy, but things have progressed. And, I want to give this a shot. I hope you understand and don’t take it personally! And I apologize since this message is long overdue!” He responded quickly, saying, I completely understand. I’m in a similar situation myself actually. When it rains, it pours, right?” I was happy to hear he was cool with things. I added, “LOL. Yes. Glad to hear. Maybe we can hang out again sometime and build a friendship?…” He responded, “I’d like that.”
After that, we chatted a few times on Facebook. I asked him how things were going with his new man, but learned the guy simply stopped responding to him. Turns out it was one of my neighbors. We still haven’t found time to hang out as friends, but I’m sure it will happen sometime. I need to have a gay friend nearby these days…
Middle Eastern and I hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. He’d text periodically to see how I was doing, but we made no plans to see each other. I was still a little put off from the time he told me he’d come over and never did.
At one point, he asked if we could hang out again. I told him that would definitely work. I was not opposed to hanging out, but that would be all that transpired between us. No more sex. No more intimacy. We’d purely be friends. It wouldn’t be easy, because we did have a great deal of fun in bed, but I had faith I could do it.
The time came for me to tell him I’d met someone else. “So anything new?” he texted one day. “Actually, yes. I’ve recently started dating someone. Been trying to figure out a way to bring it up… I hope you understand,” I responded. Immediately, he shot back, “Well, I’m definitely happy for you :). And I’m glad you told me. Kinda stung a little, not gonna lie about that.”
I felt really bad. I did like him a great deal, and I didn’t want to hurt him. There was no easy way to tell him, so honesty would be the only way to go. “Sorry! Hence my hesitation. You’re a great guy, and I hope we can be friends!! You kinda disappeared on me. Seemed like you met someone else. I put myself out there and met someone…” I added. He expressed how he was really happy for me and pointed out it just wasn’t meant to be. I told him he deserved someone young and fun and told him I really meant it about being friends. “Maybe. When I get over you. Of course I wanna be friends with you. We discussed grabbing a drink sometime, but that still had yet to happen. Some day we’ll find the time to hang out and become good friends.
And just like that, all loose ends were tied up. It wasn’t easy, but it was over. Now, I could concentrate all my efforts on the new man in my life — Clark Kent. The man who cut the roster down to one.
We tried to make plans to see each other during the week, but it never seemed to work out. Instead, we’d have to wait until the weekend to see each other again. It wasn’t easy, but it would have to do. I didn’t want to do anything to scare him off. I was too infatuated to lose him already. I would be patient. I would wait for things to happen naturally. I would finally do things right, and hopefully, by putting everything I’d learned from all the men I dated, I would find true love.
P.S. I still don’t have my sunglasses…
Follow @onegayatatimeSettling In
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 30, 2012
Yesterday I was shocked to receive a comment telling me I’ve been nominated for the TMI Award. I was pleasantly surprised from this great honor.
Id like to thank sensiboutique.com for blowing my mind with this great award.
The TMI Blog Award honors those blogs that discuss everything in detail and do it well. These bloggers aren’t afraid to discuss their most awkward, embarrassing and intimate experiences with honesty, humor and little to no filter.
Here are the rules
- Thank the person who presented you with the award.
- Link back to the blogger who presented the award to you.
- Share an awkward, embarrassing and intimate story in 250 words or less.
- Copy and paste the blog award on your blog.
- Present the TMI Blog Award to 5 – 10 deserving blogs.
- Let them know they have been chosen by leaving a comment at their blog.
Back to your regularly scheduled (oversharing) program…
After yet another failed date, I tried to see what other fish I could snag. It’d been a few months since my last relationship, and I was hungry for something real. It’d been even longer than a few months since I had that.
I was spending a lot of time on Grindr, Manhunt, Adam4adam.com, and OKCupid searching for Mr. Right while trying to convince myself to ignore Mr. Right Now.
I started to chat with a few guys, but work had other plans for me. I was being sent out to L.A. for a few days. I’m certainly not complaining, because this is one of the best places I’ve been sent to date. I even decided to extend my stay while I was out there. I told my boss I would be staying through Sunday night and coming back on the redeye (on my own dollar of course). The few guys whose interest I peaked would have to be patient and wait until I returned to the East Coast.
I chatted with my roommate before I left for L.A. I was debating how to spend my time out there. I knew I wanted to bask in the sun end get a head start on some color. But, would I be consulting Grindr while out there, or would I be using the time to find my center once again? A big part of me noticed I was getting out of control again, but another part of me asked, why not? I was single I could live it up. I decided I would make a game-time decision.
I landed a few hours ahead of the rest of my team. This was by my own design so I could relax by the pool for a few hours before digging in. It was one of my better ideas recently, because when I landed, the weather was gorgeous. After two short hours, I got a text from the team they’d arrived. I met them at the conference room, and they all commented on how I’d already gotten some color.
I continued to work the rest of the evening, and we went out for dinner after a longs day’s work. I had fun with this team. It wasn’t the usual stuffy crowd. This crew had level heads on their shoulders.
The next day, we presented like rock stars. I told my team how great they did and how I was going to use them as a case study going forward with all my other teams.
After we all went out for a spectacular lunch, I said goodbye as they all jetted off to the airport. For me, it was back to the pool.
While I laid there, of course I pulled out my friend Grindr. I wanted to see the talent in the Glendale area (where my hotel was). I managed to find a decent amount of guys and even started chatting with a few of them. Of course, against my better judgment, I decided to have some fun. I found a guy who was looking for fun as well, and I told him to come by. He happened to be driving through the neighborhood, so he obliged.
I made my way back to my room and waited for him to arrive. When I heard a knock at the door, I greeted a man who I can only guess was some sort of Armenian type. I really had no clue though. He had a decent body, and we got right down to business.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We made out a bit until he laid back on the bed with his legs in the air. I pulled out a condom and gave him what he was asking for. He certainly liked it — I could tell because he continued to tell me how much he enjoyed it. He was a good bottom, and I had a good time. After some time, he finished all over his chest. Shortly after, I added to the fun as a smile crossed both our faces. I handed him a towel and he cleaned up in my bathroom.
As he dressed himself, he mentioned how nice it was to have a good top around. Apparently, the Glendale area had too many bottoms and not enough tops. I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing for me concerning the remainder of my trip.
He was also very realistic about what transpired. We both treated it very transactional. He didn’t stick around afterwards or linger. He realized we were both there to satiate the animal within, and when we’d had our fill, he peaced out. He was a body, and I was a body. That’s all. I never knew his name. I didn’t even have his phone number.
I never would have thought I could have this mentality when I think back a year ago. I was telling N nearly a year before this how I don’t think I could ever have emotionless sex. I always thought I would only have sex with passion and love back then. I wasn’t thrilled with my transformation. I would have preferred to stay the same, but I’d already realized how enjoyable sex can be.
Follow @onegayatatimeA Perfect Weekend
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 20, 2012
PR and I had a lovely dinner and topped out night off with a scary movie marathon. When we were sufficiently scared and tired, we went to bed.
I purposely turned off my alarm that night because there was nothing pressing to wake up for in the morning. We could sleep in and enjoy each other’s company in my uber comfortable bed.
I liked sleeping with PR. We snuggled and cuddled before finally dozing off. He didn’t wake me throughout the night with tossing and turning like so many others do. We slept well together. Of course, in the morning, we shared more than just cuddling or spooning. There was still plenty of snuggling, but things escalated to a new level with the discovery of his matching morning libido. We didn’t have “sex,” as in we didn’t have penetration, but we did just about everything else.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. While our mouths went wild exploring every inch of each other’s bodies while our hands enjoyed the touch of skin in symphony. I was constantly lingering at his back door as well. I was testing his limits. I wanted to see how comfortable he was with me back there.
He even mentioned his interest in bottoming for me, but it wasn’t going to happen immediately. He needed to warm up to it first; rightfully so, considering it’d been years since someone penetrated him. I was willing to be patient. I was just concerned that it would happen at all. His willingness to play ball in down the road was reassuring.
It was late when we finally motivated ourselves to get out of bed. I think it was our grumbling stomachs that finally inspired us to make moves. I cooked us another breakfast while he sat on the island chatting with me. I was getting used to having him around, and I liked it. He was a very caring and sweet guy — A hopeless romantic much like myself.
After we ate breakfast, we cuddled a lot on the couch. I was still horny from the morning romp and started to get frisky, pulling down his shorts and exposing his ass. He was getting a little bashful since we were in front of my apartment widows with the street below, but chances are no one was able to see him. At one point, I even completely removed his shorts. It was cute watching his bashful squirm. I was starting to get off on it.
We decided to go to the gym, so we finally picked ourselves up off the couch and went to the bedroom to get ready for the day (now that it was about 3:00). Of course we didn’t simply get changed and head to the gym. We got frisky once again as I pulled him onto the bed. He certainly wasn’t complaining.
My motivation to have bigger biceps finally overtook my sexual desires, and I suggested we finally get ready for the gym. He went home to change, and I got dressed. He was starting to take a long time, so I told him I’d just see him there — I was on my way.
I nearly finished my workout before he arrived. It was slightly awkward cause I wanted to kiss him when I saw him, but I didn’t want to make a scene. We had plans to go to a Super Bowl party together, so I told him I was going to head home to shower and get ready. I implored him not to doddle since I didn’t want to arrive at the party after the start of the game. He assured me he’d be ready in time.
Once again, he was running behind, but after hopping in a cab, we arrived at the party just in time for kickoff. A lot of my friends were there, so I introduced him to everyone. This was going to be a test. He would he interact with my friends? Would he be outgoing? Would they like him? I care a lot about what my friends think of the guy I’m dating. I was trying out a new strategy this time around. I was introducing him to them much sooner than guys past.
The whole time, I sat next to him on the couch watching the game, I wanted to hold his hand or have him sit in front of me in my arms, but it wasn’t that kind of party. I would keep my hands to myself. I wanted to jump his bones the whole time we were there. I was showing restraint however.
When the game ended, we walked home with D. The majority of the second half, I kept expressing my desire for cake, so we decided to stop at the A&P and grab something. D got some cake as well, and since he lived nearby, we made a pit stop at his place to relieve our bladders and snag a bite of his cake.
PR came back to my apartment to share the carrot cake I bought for us. While we walked, he asked me the most forward question any guy on a date has ever asked me: “Have you ever had any STDs?” I paused for a moment in shock. I indeed did, and it was an embarrassing story. I wanted to know if he equally shared in my shame before I would volunteer that information. He told me he did, so I explained the time I contracted chlamydia. He then recounted the story of the time he got crabs. It was a bizarre but interesting conversation.
While we ate cake, we discussed zodiac signs. We looked up each of ours and checked the compatibility. I don’t believe in that sort of thing, but it was fun and something to pass the time. We moved things to the couch to relax and discussed everything. I told him about all my exs and he told me about all his. We sat there talking until we realized it was 2:00am. I asked him if he was going to stay the night, and he graciously accepted.
Sleeping with him just felt so right. I was happy to have him there. He was a good guy, and I was really enjoying his company. I liked where this was going, but his future was a little uncertain. He was applying for numerous jobs and attempting to figure out a more permanent living solution. For the meantime, we were meshing so well, and I was enjoying every minute of it.
Follow @onegayatatimePut Me In Coach
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 13, 2012
It was obvious things were strained between Smiles and I. For quite some time, our relationship was on the decline. He was distant, closed off, and not very engaged, and I wasn’t happy.
I tried to stick it out with him. I tried being patient and understanding. He was a good guy, and I could see there was a great guy under all this. But, I had reached my limit. I knew I deserved better. It was time to move on.
Wednesday passed without communication from Smiles, so I sent him a text in the middle of the afternoon. “It’s apparent you’re trying to put distance between us. Can you possibly find time to discuss things with me in person? Thanks,” I typed.
He responded ten minutes later with: “I can this weekend. I’m up at 5:30 and in bed at 12:30 and not a lot of time in between. This weekend will be a littler better but not much. I will make something work though.”
Wow! It was all I could do to restrain myself from responding, “Thanks for squeezing me in!” How could he!? After three months of dating, he couldn’t sacrifice a gym session to take the time to talk to me like a man. What a coward! It was completely disrespectful and painted a clear picture of Smiles’ true feeling for me. I doubt he ever truly cared for me. He simply enjoyed not being lonely.
I’m no one’s lap dog. I was back in the game. In my mind, we were all but broken up. It was inevitable. There was no coming back from this, especially since the relationship wasn’t the strongest to begin with. I’d been through yet another failed relationship with a man who simply wasn’t that into me. My confidence was pretty much shot. What was it about me they couldn’t seem to embrace? I’m not pathetic enough to say what was I doing wrong, but I also knew I may be something to turn these men off.
Regardless, I was back in the game. I needed to put myself back out there. Some people would argue I needed some time to be single and to figure myself out, but I know myself well enough. I didn’t need time to heal from this one. I did need to have some fun. It’d been a long time since I had passionate active sex, and I was hungry for it.
After my last breakup, I went wild over the summer. I hooked up with a lot of guys and expanded my sexual horizons. It was both a good thing and a bad thing. I didn’t want to go back to my old ways. I already learned how unfulfilling it was. There was no need to repeat old mistakes. But I wasn’t going to completely limit myself. I was “single” for all intents and purposes.
I had been talking to a Latino on Grindr for a bit of time. He seemed like a really nice guy, and we had a lot in common. Latinos aren’t really my type, but I’m an equal opportunity dater. N was of Latino background, and we got along well enough in the beginning.
We set a date for Thursday night to grab a drink at a local Hoboken bar, Trinity. He lived in neighboring Jersey City, and I convinced him to drive over since I didn’t have a car — It was a bit cold for the motorcycle.
He arrived before me, and found a spot in the corner of the bar. It was a good spot since we could talk without a large crowd of spectators. I shook his hand and introduced myself. He did the same, and I immediately recognized an accent of some sort. I asked him where he is from.
He told me of his roots in Venezuela and asked about my upbringing. I told him about my time growing up on the farm and how I came to live in the shadow of New York City.
We’d learned about our shared interest in volleyball and talked about that for some time. He was much more of an amateur than myself, but it was nice to find someone who had an interest in it.
We somehow got on the subject of coming out and families. He told me he’d been out of the closet since he was eighteen. He asked when I came out, and I proudly told him I was fresh and new. I told him I’d only come out about a year and a half ago. The expression of shock and disappointment on his face said it all. I knew the date was a failure. We chatted a bit about it, and I could tell he was not thrilled with the idea of my being a “new gay.” I tried to explain to him I wasn’t new. On the timeline, it may seem short, but I did a lot in that short period of time. I grew in leaps and bounds and had relationships of all sorts with varied men. For the first time in my life, I was trying to vaguely paint myself as a recovering whore.
When I think back about this, it was a dumb idea. If it was something that bothered him, I should have accepted that and moved on. I didn’t need to end the date then and there, but I shouldn’t have tried so hard so early to be what he wanted. I should have just been myself. This may be why I get involved with men that aren’t truly interested in me.
Somehow our discussion morphed into the topic of sex with women. He’d never been with a woman, but I have. I was just adding water to the fire with every sentence. We talked about the local gay dating ring, Grindr and the like. It was an interesting conversation, as we the entire date, but I doubted there would be a second.
When we finished that drink, I paid the bill and offered to walk him to his car. When we got there, I went in for a kiss. It was pretty bad. We pretty much crashed into each other with a forceful peck. I’m not sure why I kissed him if I wasn’t all that interested in him. I think it’s because I’ve been out of the game for some time, and I just felt like it was what I was supposed to do.
As I walked home, I checked my phone to find out one of the guys I’d met from Grindr months ago was moving to Hoboken. We’d been in touch sporadically since we originally met. He was just coming off a really rough breakup, and I was just starting things off with Smiles. I met him in hopes of making a new gay friend. I needed those as much as I needed lovers. He’d invited me to go out a few times, but I was never able to due to other plans. Now we’d be neighbors, and hanging out would be much easier. I was just what I needed to come back into my life at that moment.
Follow @onegayatatimeCreating Distance
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 10, 2012
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…
No matter how far apart we were or how busy we were, Smiles and I managed to find time to communicate or at the very least, send a text. It was something that always reminded me he was thinking about me when I wasn’t with him.
Silence. From Sunday afternoon through Tuesday evening — Crickets. Our last contact was Sunday afternoon when I asked him if we could spend the day together Monday. He told me he had to work, but that never stopped him from taking five minutes to pick up the phone and dial me or send me a text. He also told me he would call later Sunday night when I said goodbye to him after brunch, but as you know, that didn’t happen.
When Tuesday passed by, and I didn’t hear from him, I decided to give him a call. After-all, I’m the one who royally f*cked up, not him. Sure, he was distant throughout our relationship, but he never did anything quite as heartless as what I did.
The phone rang and rang and rang — No answer. I didn’t want to leave a voicemail because I wanted to say what I had to say live. I wanted to hear his reaction. I decided to wait.
After an hour, I decided to send him a text message: “How was the first day in the office?” You can see how patient a person I really am. Five minutes later, I received a response: “Lot happened today…” The text continued on to completely cover my entire phone screen and then some. Instead of picking up the phone and telling me all this, he sent a massive book of a text. I could tell he was very excited as things were really taking off for him, but all I could think about was how hurt I was. He completely dropped me like a bad habit. His career was really beginning to take off, and he had no use for me anymore. I had been there to support him through the rough stages, and when he began to have success, he forgot all about me. At this point, I didn’t give a sh*t about his new job. I barely even feigned interest. My responses were, “Gotcha,” “Sounds awesome!” and “Congrats.” I wanted to be happy for him, but I couldn’t. He treated me like trash.
He made sure to add things like, “Say that again at the end of March when I have free time again.” This was his way of not just nudging me away but giving me a big ol’ shove. I didn’t feel the least bit of guilt for “shopping” on a4a and Grindr the nights prior.
Just when I didn’t think the knife could cut any deeper, he said, “Ok. 9pm. Bedtime! Hope your first day back was more exciting than your last week there. Night!” I simply replied, “Night.”
If he was getting ready for bed, why didn’t he pick up the phone and call. I assumed he was at dinner or something. I was trying to justify him writing out a massive text versus calling me.
That’s when I realized how much of a coward he was. He was just going to put down the gun and slowly back away instead of just ripping the band-aid off. It was clear he wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with me any further. He should have been a man and said do. I thought I was done with all the petty childish games when I started dating a thirty-six year-old, but I was sorely mistaken. I was going to have to be the man in this relationship, or lack thereof.
That night was neither the time nor the place. I was going to do this in person. He wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of an easy fizzle. If we weren’t moving forward anymore, we weren’t going to be moving at all. I was going to end things. The time had come. No more second chances. No more opportunities to drag me along. For me, it was over.
Before he pulled this stunt, I was okay with the relationship coming to a close. I had already resolved myself to the fact it wasn’t what I was looking for, and it didn’t satisfy my needs. The only thing I lacked was closure. Now, I was mad as hell. After spending three months with him and dedicating a lot of myself to him, this was how he was going to treat me. Instead of looking back on our time together with fondness, I now began to look back with bitterness and doubt. I wondered if he ever really cared about me. I wondered if I was the only one in his life. Sure, we spent a lot of time together, but we also spent a lot of time apart. It’s not physically possible for him to be carrying on a relationship outside ours, but it doesn’t rule out any extra curricular activities.
I decided that night, Smiles was going to hear it. Everything I kept inside while we dated was going to finally come out. I just needed to pick the time and the place…
Follow @onegayatatimeAm I Broken?
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 13, 2011
The following topic of conversation is very embarrassing and very personal. It’s not easy to talk about, but I have a strong feeling I am not the only one who suffers from the issue. Warning: It may make some of you uncomfortable. I am exposing myself in this post, but I feel I need to face my demons to be able to get over them. I also feel guilty writing about this, because it’s a bit of an invasion of privacy for others, but I also feel it’s necessary if I’m being honest with myself and this blog. I wonder if someone out there may have insight to help me and others with this predicament. I feel the need to shine a light on this issue, as no one is talking about it.
My intentions were obvious this time around with Smiles. My hand was down his pants fondling him until I was pushed away with a grunt. There was no misconstruing my intentions. After being denied sex yet again by Smiles, I felt the need to consult my council.
I called Boston for his take on the situation. I explained being denied sex on more than one occasion. His immediate response was, “Oooooo. That’s not good. Something isn’t right.”
I responded, “I know, right? I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a mountain out of a mole hill.”
We chatted about the issue, and he told me I needed to address the issue. “Sex is an important part of any relationship, and based on what I read in your blog, sex is important to you,” he added. We discussed the best way to bring it up. The main consensus was waiting until the relevant situation arose. He suggested I don’t bring it up over dinner. If I was denied again, I should bring it up immediately to find the root of the problem.
This was the point in the conversation where I made a small confession of my own. I was worried I may have been to blame for the quantity. I explained my climaxing issue to Boston for the first time in full detail. I told him, while I’d been with Smiles a few times, I had yet to climax. This was through no fault of Smiles. This was a common occurrence for me dating back to the days I was with Broadway. In fact, I feel it was a large part of the reason we broke up. It put a lot of strain on the relationship. He took it personally, even though I assured him it had nothing to do with him. I was still quite attracted to him and still received pleasure from sex, but I wasn’t finishing.
I never was able to find the root of my problem. For a while, I hoped it would fix itself. When it didn’t I explored a number of theories. The leading one being I hardwired my brain to function in a specific way in relation to sex.
For 16+ years, my main outlet for my sexual frustrations was viewing gay porn and pleasuring myself. I wasn’t dating men, and I wasn’t exactly a lady killer either. I would go home, open the laptop, and take care of myself. I worried my brain was hardwired to react only to that stimuli.
I wanted nothing more than to “fix” this issue. For some time, I masked it by prepping myself. If I knew Broadway and I would be having sex, I watched porn before I saw him to build up a “spank bank.” I referred to this when he got me close to finishing to get me over that last hill. It worked for some time, but eventually that solution lost its effectiveness. That’s when things got really bad. I got so stressed about it, when the moment came, there was nothing I could do but think about my lack of performance. I was so wrapped up in the issue, there was no unwinding me at that point.
I had many frank discussions with Broadway on the subject. After discussing it, we agreed not to talk about the issue for some time. It was the only way I was going to be able to relieve some of the pressure I was putting on myself. Eventually it did the trick, and I had my happy ending. However, it wasn’t a 100% solution. Most of the time, I was only able to cum after he performed oral sex. A majority of our relationship, I never climax from anal penetration. The issue was still there. It was just lessened.
It wasn’t as big an issue with San Francisco because we were an entire country apart. When I was physically with him out in San Francisco, I had no issue. When we Skyped, it took slightly longer, but eventually I climaxed. After San Francisco, I slept with a handful of guys. I specifically remember it being an issue with The Trainer. I know it’s not an issue of physical attraction, because he had a body like a god! However, I had to finish myself off that time, and it took some time.
When I was dating N, it took a long time, but I almost always finished. He started noticing my “condition” as time went on. We discussed it lightly, but I think he was under the impression it just took me a little longer than most guys to finish. As I’ve said before, I had to resort to my “spank bank.” Many times, what I was imagining involved the two of us. I wasn’t even imagining porn stars. It was the two of us in different scenario/locations other than in my bed.
Over the summer, it wasn’t really and issue for me. I had no strong connection to the guys I was sleeping with. It was purely recreation and my own need to get some crazy out of my system. I had no pressure or image to keep up. I was just having fun, and it worked.
The first time Smiles and I had sex, I bottomed. No matter who I have been with, I have never finished from bottoming. It has its pleasures, but it never had that effect on me — Hence my status as a preferred top. With Smiles, there was one time when I was very close during oral sex. I was right there, but I just couldn’t close that final gap. After we had sex other times, and I still didn’t finish, I began to morph my theory.
I have a very high pain threshold. Because of this, I wonder if I am in turn cursed with a high pleasure threshold. Maybe it takes more to get me off. I also wondered if my stimulation comes from something more visual. Maybe I need to witness the penetration to climax. Again, these are all just shots in the dark, no pun intended, but I want nothing more than to figure out this enigma. However, I haven’t been able to test my theory at this point.
Smiles expressed his interest early on to work with me to figure this out. It meant a great deal to hear him verbalize this to me. I need someone who can be understanding and patient with me if I’m going to lick this thing.
After I talked to Boston, after a drunk night at the bar, I discussed in length with D my issue. This was really tough for me because I am so embarrassed by the situation. It makes me feel like less of a man. He was helpful in our discussion and helped me feel more comfortable talking about it.
I also called to Broadway. I didn’t exactly feel comfortable talking to him about the details of my new relationship, nor did I think it was fair to him. But, he had experience with this issue. He knew what was going on with me, and maybe now that we weren’t together, he could help me find the key. When I told him I was being denied sex, he immediately said, “Something’s wrong! That’s not normal. You need to talk to him about it.” Everyone was telling me what I already knew, but not what I wanted to hear. In thinking I was partially responsible for the situation, I brought up my issue. Maybe he was avoiding sex with me because I couldn’t finish.
Broadway told me I needed to stop being so stupid about it. I was stressing myself out over it, and that wasn’t going to solve anything. I needed to acknowledge to myself the issue and go see someone about it. I told him I had been entertaining the idea of going to see a therapist, but it takes a very special type of therapist for such a sensitive issue. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to find in the yellowpages. He again just indicated I needed to talk to someone about it if I wanted to get over it. He also reminded me I needed to talk to Smiles directly about why we weren’t having sex more often.
The next morning when I woke, I sent Smiles a message detailing my desire for him to be in the bed next to me and how horny I was. He responded positively and seemed he would have been up for morning sex had he actually been there. I was surprised considering a few hours earlier I was denied.
We made plans for Sunday, and I went on with my pondering my issue for the rest of the day. Did he think I didn’t enjoy sex? That certainly isn’t the case. Even if I don’t finish, I still thoroughly enjoy sex and still get a body high from it. Did it bruise his ego to know I wasn’t being fully stimulated by him? I can assure him, it is me, not him. There were a million questions, but no solid answers.
One thing is clear. I need help. I cannot solve this problem on my own, but maybe talking about it with my therapist, Dr. WordPress, will help me face my demons head on and conquer them. Only time will tell…
Follow @onegayatatimeAt 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 
Check That Off the List
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on April 24, 2012
Once again, another Friday arrived, and once again, I used up a carry-over vacation day to stay home and relax.
For some time, I’d been speaking to a few guys on Grindr who happened to be tops. When we both learned we were the same position, discussion turned to other options, such as bringing in a third. We were both really attracted to each other, but neither was willing to bottom for the other.
Many men dream about the threesome. Straight men fantasize about it constantly, and I assume it’s a big gay male fantasy as well. The only difference is gay men probably act on it and achieve it far more often. It certainly isn’t, however, easy to pull off. You have to organize three different mens’ schedules and also take into consideration their taste in other men. We all know how finicky gay men can be.
I woke up Friday with no agenda and morning wood. I wanted to take care of it, but I also wanted to act on my recent fantasy of a threesome. I started with one of the most promising guys who I’d discussed this with before. He wasn’t getting back to me. I began going through more than a few permutations trying to find 2 guys willing to participate who weren’t occupied with work.
After much discussion about who could host and who wouldn’t host, I managed to get my original group together, but not without issue. I had to ride my motorcycle into New York City to pick the bottom up. He wasn’t comfortable coming out to Hoboken alone, and the other guy wasn’t willing to host strangers. Strange to think he had no problem hopping into bed with strangers, just as long as it wasn’t his own. I rode in and picked him up. It was slightly awkward, but it all fell right into place. He hopped on the back of the bike, and we rode off to my place.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We arrived before the other guy. I didn’t know the rules, but I was looking to wait for the vers guy to arrive before we got started. The bottom wasn’t so patient. He wasn’t the best looking man in the world, but he had a great body. He started kissing all over me until he undid my pants and started orally pleasuring me. He was quite good. He undid his pants as well and revealed a generous gift. He asked me if we could go to the bedroom until the other guy arrived. I encouraged him to wait since he was only a few blocks away.
When he arrived, the bottom walked to my bedroom and began to undress. I brought the vers guy into my room, and he and I began to undress. I wasn’t as thrilled with him. He looked much better in his pictures, but there certainly wasn’t anything wrong with him. You can’t win ‘em all. I laid on the bed in my boxer briefs while the other two joined me and began rubbing me all over and kissing me. I felt like a king. Everyone was there serving me, and it felt great!
This guy was incredibly awkward. He looked like he was having a seizure. His sex was spastic and crazy. On top of that, he was very particular and insisted I use the condoms and lube he brought. While he was inside the bottom, I climbed on top and penetrated the vers. This was not the easiest sex position by any means, and it did not last long. The logistics of three people getting the same rhythm are nearly impossible. It’s obvious in porn when this happens, they are doing it for the camera and certainly not for pleasure.
We swapped positions a few times and had already gone through a substantial amount of condoms. If one thing was certain, I was going to be wrapped up at all times! Finally, I suggested we move things to my shower.
We went through a few permutations of positions in the shower before I told them I simply wanted to watch them while I took care of myself. The bottom protested. I could tell he was very annoyed by the vers and wanted me more. When we ran out of warm water, we all toweled off. The bottom needed to excuse himself. He was feeling light-headed. He made his way out to the living room in his towel.
I was left with the spaz in my room, and I wasn’t thrilled. We tried a go at it for a short bit, but I was much more interested in the guy sitting in the living room. We stopped and moved things out to the living room after closing all the curtains. The bottom was feeling better, so he was eager for me again. He hopped on the chair and asked me to go again with him.
The vers guy almost immediately began to get dressed, noting he had to get back home to finish work. The bottom was going to head back in with him so he wouldn’t get lost, but the vers wasn’t willing to wait for him to get dressed. The bottom asked me to ride him back onto the city, but I told him I would give him a ride as far as the PATH. From there on, he was on his own.
We chatted a bit about how spastic the other guy was. Neither of us were thrilled with him, but it is what it is. The bottom got dressed and hopped on the back of my motorcycle. When we got to the PATH, I gave him directions for getting back home.
I sped off home. I was in need of a serious shower. Since the morning’s activities began, I felt incredibly dirty.
If you’re considering a threesome, I strongly encourage you to think it out first. Don’t just jump into it to satisfy some great fantasy you’ve seen many times in porn. If you have the constitution for it, then by all means, do what makes you happy. But, if you’re thinking twice, I strongly suggest you leave the fantasy to your mouse clicking.
There was nothing sexy about what happened. It did not live up to the fantasy I had originally dreamed of. It was awkward and at times laborious. I needed to wash away the shame and guilt I felt, but it was no use. Those would stick around for at least the remainder of the day.
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