Posts Tagged PDA

Smiles Returns

While returning home from alumni weekend, I sent an email to Smiles to see if we could find time to get together Sunday afternoon: “Hey dude. Let me know if you’re still up for meeting up tomorrow…” I sent it around 11:00 at night, so I didn’t expect a reply until the following day. So, when I got back to Hoboken, I asked around to see who was going out to the bar. No one seemed to be up for anything, so I went home did laundry and watched TV.

I woke the next morning to a return email from him saying, “Hey bud, yeah we can work something out. What did you have in mind?” I replied back, “Your call… Grab bite, drink, coffee, walk High Line…” Apparently, he was already out and about that morning, and he responded, “Just finishing brunch. Let’s grab cords and walk up highland. What time works?”

I was a little confused, but I was used to deciphering autocorrect text messages. “I’m assuming that cords means coffee and highland means highline… haha  I can meet you in about an hour? That work?” I responded. He replied, “Ah yes autocorrect. Let’s meet at 4:30 at Doma in west village its 7th and Perry I think.”

I was very excited but still very relaxed. I was thrilled he was still willing to see me again after the less that stellar first date, but I’ve also done a very good job of not getting my hopes up about these dates anymore. I’ve had enough bad ones to know the drill now. Yes, I’ve become jaded.

I arrived at the coffee shop and waited for him outside. When he arrived, we exchanged hugs and went inside to grab coffees. He paid for mine, which I thought was very sweet of him. He suggested we take a walk through the West Village on our way to hop up on the High Line park. As we walked, he told me about the crazy time he had the previous night at the bars and how he was a little less than 100%. He put his arm around me and explained he was afraid to postpone on me since I was so broken-hearted when he didn’t respond within the first twelve hours after our first date (in a playful way). I was a little embarrassed by my lack of patience and told him he could have postponed on me, and I completely would have understood. We had a good laugh about it.

We walked and came upon a band playing in a courtyard. We stopped to listen before continuing on to the High Line. We climbed the stairs to the elevated park and began to stroll along like everyone else. This was the third date I took up there. I could tell Smiles was really enjoying it. He is very interested in architecture and design, as am I, so we had extensive conversations about all the surrounding buildings. I found it utterly romantic when he would turn my attention to a specific building by putting his hand on my shoulder to talk about a specific element. We talked the entire span from 14th street to 34th street. We even passed Joan Rivers and her small entourage while walking. When we reached the top, we walked back down to street level.

As we walked back downtown, we talked more. I learned he attended three different Burning Mans in the past. Just that Friday, I watched a movie shot by a bunch of guys who attended this years. It looked spectacular, and I was highly interested in attending. He gave me some of the insider tips, and the conversation shifted to the traveling we’ve done.

As we were walking through the West Village again, he noted he’d love to grab a beer and asked if I was interested. We stepped into a nice spot that had an outdoor space in the back, Entwine. We both ordered sangria. When I mentioned I wanted to order hummus and pitas, he noted he had to cut gluten out of his diet. I was rather famished, and I think he realized this.

He originally planned to meet his ex for dinner that night, but hadn’t heard from him in some time. Since this was the case, he asked if I would be interested in grabbing dinner with him. Of course I obliged. He mentioned two spots he could think of. I agreed Extra Virgin sounded great. He warned me he was quite the regular at that spot, but I wasn’t quite sure why that warranted a warning.

I paid the tab for the sangrias, and we started to walk to Extra Virgin. The night was shaping up to be quite a date, but it was only just beginning…

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Sexy Eyes

After seeing Sexy Eyes on the street with my roommate, I decided to make him a priority. He not only impressed me, but also my roommate. She wanted to date him . He was charming and funny and had a smile and sexy green eyes that gave me butterflies.

On my way home that night, I began texting immediately. He was all but begging me to stay in the city that night with him, but I insisted I would not let my roommate walk home alone at that hour of the night. He heavily respected my decision, but also attempted to persuade me to come back on another bus after I walked her home.

Instead, I promised we would go out the following Friday. That still didn’t satiate him. He wanted to know why we couldn’t meet Thursday. I explained I had my volleyball league Thursday nights, so I would be unable to meet up. I figured he would understand being quite the volleyball player himself.

That of course was a lie. I scheduled a meeting with a guy from OKCupid. It was an interesting scenario. The guy reached out to me originally, but after chatting a bit, I came to learn he was seeing someone. He was just looking for friends. I didn’t buy it of course, but if that’s what he really wanted, I was game. I need gay friends. We scheduled happy hour drinks for Thursday evening after work.

On top of that, I scheduled another date with a guy I met on Grindr a week prior. Between these two, there would be no time to meet Sexy Eyes.

When the OKCupid friend had to bail because of a follow-up job interview, I decided to see if Sexy Eyes was available for after work coffee. I figured we could sit and chat and get to know each other a little better.

He bit. He was extremely excited to see me. Immediately following work, I walked down to the Starbucks closest to his office. He works at a financial law firm and would not be finished for the evening. He was, however, able to step out for about an hour to chat.

The conversation was mainly dominated by him, but it was good nonetheless. We talked for about an hour before I told him I needed to head home for volleyball (my other date). Our date ended with a few smooches and a hug. I was really feeling this guy. We shared a lot in common, he was older and had a respectable job, he was very good looking, he was fun to be around… The list goes on. As I walked away, he texted me telling me he wanted to kiss me more, but didn’t want to make a scene near his office. He begged me to come back into the city after my “volleyball game.” I entertained the idea in my head, but I made no promises. Who knew how my next date would go?

I met the next guy at a bar near the Christopher Street PATH station, but that will have to be tomorrow’s blog entry, because as you may have suspected, I wasn’t quite done seeing Sexy Eyes that evening. After my second date, I went home, showered and changed, and hopped on a bus back to the city. Sexy Eyes was just finishing up his own volleyball workout as I was getting to Port Authority.

We agreed we’d go out somewhere, but made no plans. When I arrived at Port Authority, I called him to find out the plan. He told me he just got out of the shower and needed to finish getting ready. He gave me his address and told me to come to his apartment. We would make a decision where to go from there.

When I arrived, I told the doorman who I was there to see, and he let me up to the apartment. I was greeted at the door with a very nice kiss, and we chatted while he finished getting ready.

Somehow, we both ended up in his bedroom just as he finished getting ready. He sat on the bed in front of me, lifted my shirt and began kissing and licking my entire torso. It felt amazing.

Between kisses, he asked if I wanted to go out or just stay in. I didn’t need to verbally answer because I was already removing his shirt. I hadn’t had sex since Labor Day. I won’t say I was a big ball of horny, but he was a very attractive and seemed very interested in me and not just my body. I wanted him. Bad.

(Warning: The following may be graphic for some) Shortly after, he was undoing my belt and unzipping my pants. He was thrilled to learn I submitted to his request to wear briefs. I never wear them, but if a man requests it and thinks I look sexy in them, who am I to disagree? He then pulled down my briefs and opened his mouth and felt amazing. It had been a while since anyone did anything with my body besides my own two hands, so I was completely enjoying the moment.

Things got hotter, and we both ended up on the bed in numerous positions. Throughout the course of our time in bed, he started playfully biting me. I’m not gonna lie. It hurt! I went along with it because they were quick, and I have a high pain threshold. But, I wasn’t entirely into it. This was something that may have to be resolved down the road. At the peak of the passion, I was inside him, and we were both thoroughly enjoying ourselves. He finished during the act, and shortly after, I finished myself off. As per usual with the guys I’ve been with, he was impressed with my finale. Something I’ve learned to take pride in based on the reception it usually gets.

He beckoned me to come join him in the shower to clean up so we could snuggle in bed. After the shower, we laid in bed together and watched the late night news. It was getting very late, and I was constantly dozing off. After realizing this, he suggested we turn off the TV and go to bed. After all, we both had work in the morning, and he had to be up earlier than I did.

The next morning, we woke at the same time. He hopped in the shower while I read over emails from his bed. When he got out, I hopped in for my turn. He told me he would probably be gone by the time I got out. I was instructed to take my time and just pull the door shut behind me on my way out. I thanked him and kissed him goodbye.

That evening, it was affirmed for me the biting had gone too far. All day at work, my chest was sore where he bit me, and when I came home and got undressed, I looked like I was abused in certain spots.

That morning, I walked to work with a smile on my face. It was a good night, and I met a good man who seemed to be interested in me. Over the few months I’ve been out and single, I’ve learned my lesson not to count my chickens before they’ve hatched. Maybe I’ve become slightly jaded in the process, and this bothered me. But, this was something I needed to start doing so I wouldn’t get my hopes up and get hurt in the end.

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Prince Charming Pt 2

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…

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Sex On The Beach

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…

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Pillow Talk

After my first date with Pillow, I was very excited to see him again. However, I would have to wait a week. When the day finally arrived, I was very excited. I tried my best all day to get my work done to ensure a timely exit. After the debacle of picking restaurants last time, I put the burden on him to choose where we would go. We talked a few times during the day about him stressing to pick a location. We finally planned to grab dinner at Dos Caminos at 7:30.

At 7:30 on the dot, I got a text from him saying, “Hey. I need to reschedule for tonight. My sinuses are acting up, and I’m not feeling all that great. I just need to relax and hit the bed. So sorry for the late notice, but just not up for drinks or dinner tonight.” Needless to say, I was very disappointed, but also slightly annoyed. I sat around work with nothing to do for two hours. I could have gone home or made other plans. I responded with the only thing I knew to say, “Ok. Feel better!” I have to admit, I was very suspect of the last-minute cancellation. It seemed odd. If he wasn’t feeling well, I imagine he didn’t feel well all day long, not just that evening. But I didn’t want my imagination to run away since I have a habit of letting that happen. He mentioned hitting me up the following day to figure out a time to reschedule. Later that night, he suggested Friday for lunch, so I was reassured he wasn’t just blowing me off completely.

That Friday, we went to Dos Caminos for lunch. It was a very nice lunch, and we had good conversation. It wasn’t 100% fluid, but it was getting better. He had a hard shell to crack. We talked a lot more about his home and his living situation. I learned about his cat and a bit more about his relationship with his mother. It was nice getting to know him better. When we finished, I suggested we hit up the High Line as we had spoken about before. It was a gorgeous day, so he agreed it was a perfect idea, especially since he’d never been.

We made our way across town and walked to the bottom end of the High Line. He was really enjoying it, and I was enjoying watching his pleasure. We had nice casual conversation the whole length. When we go to the bottom end, we took a break in the shade against the railing. Through our conversation, there were about fifteen moments I wanted to just grab him and kiss him. Every time there was a pause, I wanted to go for it. However, there was an audience. There was never n instance when there wasn’t a crowd of people around to sneak a private moment. I think he wanted me to kiss him as well, or at least his body language suggested it. After a while, we decided to make our way north again to the other end of the High Line.

The whole walk back, I looked for a quiet corner to sneak into — No dice. I had experienced those pillow lips once before, and I wanted more. It had been too long! I was really starting to feel comfortable with him. The nerves ended and the conversation was much easier. We both really enjoyed our time up there. From start to finish the date lasted four hours. We walked the entire High Line, and it ended at Penn Station where he would grab his train home to Pennsylvania. As I said goodbye, he grabbed my hand. I pulled him in for a kiss. And then another. And then another. All short kisses, but nice ones nonetheless.

On my walk back to the PATH, I texted him, “Soooo…. I wanted to kiss you about 15 times on the High Line today. I just don’t do well with audiences…” He responded, “Had a great day!! Um, I’m with you. I’m not totally into an audience, but I was so relaxed at the end of the High Line in the Meat Packing District. I could have stayed and talked a while longer with you. ;)” It was nice to hear we were on the same page. He was a great guy who I still needed to get to know better, but a great guy nonetheless. I was looking forward to our next date and wanted to move things along a bit.

I took the liberty of inviting him to join me at my friend’s lake the following day. He told me he needed to see what he needed to get done the next day and wanted to check out Musikfest, but he would get back to me in the morning. That night, I followed up with a late night text, “I had a really great time with you today. Hope I get to see you again tomorrow. i.e. Come to the lake in the am and then head back for Musikfest in the evening.”

The next morning I went to the lake with my friends D, K and D’s girlfriend. I spent the day on the water and went waterskiing for the first time in my life. It was fun, but I was a little disappointed I never heard from Pillow. I went on with my day and tried not to let it phase me. I was unsuccessful. That night I went out with my friends, but it was very hard to have a good time…

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A Southern Gentleman

Before I went to OCMD, I was talking to a southern gentleman who found me on Grindr. We hit it off immediately. He seemed like a level-headed guy, and he was 35. After my last failed relationship with a 25 year-old, I decided older was better. San Francisco opened me up to the idea of dating a man of that age, and I had a good feeling about it.

The Southern Gent and I messaged each other a lot on Grindr. We also exchanged pictures. He found me exceptionally sexy, and I found him to be quite attractive. He was no super model, but he certainly took care of himself. We exchanged Facebook information. I looked through all his pictures. They were of him being crazy at a wedding, boating on a lake, safari hunting in Africa, etc. The guy had a picture of a Zebra he took down. I was impressed and swooning a bit.

We tried to figure out a good time to meet, but it always conflicted with his schedule or mine. After a while, he went completely dark. We made plans to meet one Sunday night, but when that weekend came, I got no response to the many text messages and phone calls I made. “I can only assume you lost interest already… Not sure if I did something, but I’ve sent you msgs with no response. Was excited to meet you… If I’m wrong, you know how to reach me.”

An entire week went by, and I heard no word from him. I removed him from my favorites on Grindr so I wouldn’t have to look at him every time I pulled it up. Of course, that’s when he started to message me again. He apologize emphatically for not getting back to me and blamed most of it on getting a new job. I’m definitely one for giving second chances, and I though he would be a great match for me, so I agreed to meet him when I got back from my vacation.

While in Maryland, we texted periodically. We set up a date for the Sunday evening upon my return home. He picked Pier I Cafe on the Upper West Side. I took the bus into the city and hopped in a cab the rest of the way. I made my way down to the Hudson waterfront and saw him immediately. He had a very New England country club look about him. I liked it. He didn’t look like a snob, but he looked like he appreciated the finer things in life.

We both grabbed beers and tried to find somewhere to plop down. There were no tables available, so we found a cement wall to sit on. We got to know each other slowly. We talked about our jobs, our living situations, working out, college, etc. The conversation was flowing quite easily. He is an architect, which is something that has always interested me. I found it sexy. The one hangup I had with him was he turned into a total queen every time he laughed. He was a bit flamboyant. He could have sucked all the air out of the room after every laugh had we been indoors. It was extremely off-putting. I’m sure you’re all judging me as picky at this point, but it was hard to look past. I was starting to get annoyed with these guys who claimed to be masculine. It’s my one real hangup in the gay dating world, and guys self-judge this aspect of their lives VERY poorly. Basically, I’m attracted to dudes who just so happen to be attracted to other dudes as well, not some big ‘mo.

I also started to gauge the level of chemistry between us. It wasn’t exactly at its peak either. We shared a lot in common, but I could tell the attraction wasn’t there on both sides. We both passionately talked about cooking and our specialties. It was an interesting conversation. After a while, I noticed one of my friends. He also noticed me, so on one of his trips to the bar, he swung by to say hi. I introduced him to the Southern Gent and talked to him about how things were going since his marriage in Key West.

Four rounds and one basket of calamari later, it was time to go home. I gave him a small kiss on the lips and said, “We should do this again sometime.” I didn’t have such a good feeling about our chemistry as I did before the date. I was a little disappointed, but I thought maybe I needed to give him a second chance. I would leave that up to him. If he was interested, he would followup the date with a phone call. When the call never came, I knew my suspicions were accurate. I unfriended him on Facebook so I could write about my dates without feeling guilty.

I was disappointed it didn’t work out, but that was based on an assumption I made before I even met him. I would need to not get my hopes up so high before the first date. It would be the downfall of my morale if I let the bad dates and disappointment get to me…

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Whoring It Up in OCMD Pt. 2

On the way to Rehoboth, the guy from the run texted me. I explained the situation and his lack of commitment. At this point, I was in over my head with the hicks. I told him to meet us in Rehoboth. I needed to be rescued, and he eventually came to my rescue.

We arrived at the bar, The Purple Parrot, and he arrived about a half hour later. I noticed the guy who originally was talking to me on Grindr was laying claim to me. I overheard some alarming conversations that made me realize he expected some sexual action from me. “I swear to God, if he goes home with this guy after we brought him up here!” This was NOT happening. I clung to my new friend like white on rice.

The hicks went inside to do karaoke, and my new friend and I followed shortly after. We found a bachelorette party of the sweetest girls to entertain us. We all became good friends fast, which was perfect because the hicks were ready to leave. I explained I was going to stay and would meet up with them later in the night. The one who laid claim to me tried to hang back with us and even asked for a ride home, but when he couldn’t get a guarantee, he got p*ssed and left. Later in the night I received a text scolding me for never meeting up. I retorted explaining why, and my reasoning was that I was not a piece of meat for him to lay claim to.

We spent the rest of the night singing karaoke with our new bachelorette friends and taking lots of pictures. We had a blast. When it was getting late, he asked if I was ready to go home. He was a really sweet guy, and I had a good time with him. Even if I had to deal with the hicks for most of the night, I was happy to get away and got to spend some time with a new friend.

On the way home, I rubbed the back of his head while he drove, and we chatted. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but there was no way in hell I was having sex with anyone. He drove right past my condo when we got back to Ocean City and went straight to his place. When we entered, he was startled because he mom was still up. We hid in a side hallway until he could devise a plan. He told me I was going to be “Steve” his friend, and we walked past her up to the loft he was staying in.

Once we got up there, we started making out a bit. He pulled his pants down and started playing with himself. My pants were off, but I still had my boxers on. I decided to give him a hand. He finished all over his shirt and pretty much passed out. I was really hoping he’d be a gentleman and drive me home, but that wasn’t going to be the case. I would have to walk 2.5 miles home at 3:00am. I told him I needed to wake up in my own bed, got dressed and walked out.

At this point, I was very horny. Along my walk, I received a message from the guy who exchanged blowjobs a few nights before with the man I just left. I heard how hot he was, so I entertained the idea of meeting him. His roommate was home, so he convinced me to meet him in the dark alley behind his apartment building. When I got there, he was standing with his dick in his hand. He was really hot. We started making out. He undid my pants and gave me a blowjob. After some time, I returned the favor and then continued working with my hand. Shortly after, he finished all over the sidewalk. It was really hot. I thought I was going to receive the same treatment, but instead, he told me he had to get back inside before his roommate noticed he was gone. This was now two guys in one half hour that I helped with a “night-cap” who didn’t feel the need to reciprocate.

On the next leg of my journey, my mother called. I explained that “Will” had too much to drink once we got back to O.C., and I wanted to sleep in my own bed, so I agreed to hop on the bus. However, all the buses were packed to the gills, so I told her I was walking home. She stated, “You’re an adult and you can stay out as long as you like, but you need to tell us when you’re going to be out this late. Your father and I haven’t been able to sleep.”

The entertain myself for the rest of the 2 miles I had to go, I turned to Grindr. I had received another message from yet another hottie while I was hooking up in an alley. At this point I was a complete whore. Why not tack on another one? This guy was horny and looking for action. I explained where I was and where I was headed. I told him he could come pick me up, but asked where we could hookup. I suggested his car, but being a local, he convinced me it was cool if we hooked up on the beach. Just as I was getting to my street, he drove past me and turned towards the beach. I followed and met him by the sand.

We introduced ourselves and began to walk through the dunes. Just then, the garbage trucks were driving across the beach to empty all the cans. We stood and waited for them to finish before we started making out. He was a good kisser, and he quickly moved on to orally pleasing me. He was good. He was very good. Finally, someone was interested in my pleasure that night. After a while, he stood. I dropped his pants and returned the favor. I never hooked up on a beach before. It was an exciting new venture for me. After a while, I asked if he was a bottom. I explained I wasn’t going to have sex with him, but I wanted to grind on each other a bit. He agreed and turned around. I pressed my body against his and gave him a reach around. He finished all over the sand. It was my turn. I started to take over for myself while he played with my balls. It felt great. When I shot all over the sand, he said, “Wow. I’ve never seen anyone shoot like that before.” I replied, “Yea… That’s my hidden talent.”

After the two of us decorated the sand, we got dressed and started to walk back towards his car. We talked about why he was in O.C. and how he was moving to NYC in September. I told him to hit me up when he did. I was always looking for new friends to hang out with. We said goodbye with a kiss, and I walked home.

When I got home, I opened the door quietly and hopped into the sofa bed I was relegated to since my sister arrived. My mother came out to scold me one last time before dozing off. I felt like such a high school boy sneaking around to hookup and getting yelled at for breaking curfew.

The next morning, the last day at the beach, the guy I met on the run wanted to meet up and make up for not finishing me off the night before. This was a constant circus of juggling locations and sneaking around. It was becoming nearly impossible. The solution we came up with; he would pick me up in his car and we would hookup in his car somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be a parking garage, and that hookup turned into a blowjob for me. We both finished in the car by our own hands. He was heading home straight from there, while I was heading to the beach to meet my family. He dropped me off by the sand, and we said our goodbyes. He encouraged me to hit him up the next time I was home in Pa.

I was ashamed and embarrassed of my behavior on my vacation, but I got it all out of my system. I wasn’t planning to hookup at all, but even went as far as to do it three times in one night. What a whore! Once again, things needed to change, but I just told myself it was vacation. I was allowed to take a vacation from my morals for a week…

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Pride Parade

The next morning, N woke up to me staring him in the face. I don’t know what I was looking at, but I was definitely looking for answers. When he opened his eyes, his expression said it all. It was as if he woke up from a bad dream, only to find it was reality. He kept blinking and closing his eyes and then looking back into mine. I’m sure he saw the pain that was there. I could tell he wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments until I broke the silence. “Can we talk about what happened last night?” He nodded in agreement and sat up in the bed. I kind of ambushed him before he even had a chance to wake up, but what could I do? It was all I could think about, and I wanted answers.

We talked about why he was so secretive about dinner with his friends. He denied being secretive and said he was completely upfront with me. When I pointed out a few discrepancies in the story, he brushed them off as details lost in confusion of planning for ten people. Then I addressed him kissing the guy. He flat out denied it still. He told me he didn’t know the guy and it was a peck on the cheek in passing. The body language between the two from what I saw would say otherwise, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I said, even if it was just a peck in passing, why were you talking to him in the first place? Why did you both have your phones out? Was this a guy you met before I arrived at the bar. (The man he kissed was Asian, and sure enough, that Monday, an Asian man friended him and wrote on his Facebook wall. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.)

Here, he pled complete ignorance. He told me he had no idea who the guy was and couldn’t remember talking to him. He said he had a dream about talking to a bouncer about music and couldn’t remember what was reality and what was a dream since he was so drunk the night before. I knew this was bullsh*t. In my mind, I took a big step back. This was the ultimate betrayal of trust. We weren’t exclusive, but at this point, if he couldn’t be straight up with me, what did we have? Now, even more so, I felt like I was just a convenient booty call who lived across the street.

I explained how everything looks from my perspective. He stayed home the day before to primp his hair and his body, and donned sexy underwear to a gay club. What was he expecting to happen? He didn’t know I was going to meet up with him until he was already at dinner, so it wasn’t for me, and I pointed he never did that for me in the past. Was he opening the possibility of going home with another guy that night? He told me he shaved his body because he doesn’t like to take his shirt off with a hairy body and said the underwear was just a coincidence. He is a bad liar, so he stumbled over the underwear part. I had him figured out, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Even now, after time has passed, I get emotional writing this and thinking about his mindset. I was obviously more invested in the relationship, but I had no idea the extent. The first morning he woke up in my bed, we talked about how much fun we had the night before and how compatible we were. However, he jokingly added, “Just don’t fall in love with me.” I should have heeded those words, and it’s my fault for falling for someone who was not as emotionally available.

The NYC Pride Parade was back, and this year I was much more comfortable with my sexuality. Last year, I got trapped in the middle of the parade with my parents — my worst nightmare. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. This year, I made an effort to attend.

We all woke up late that morning and I felt sick, which threw a wrench in our plans to catch the tail end of the parade before Boston hopped back on a bus to Boston. We grabbed breakfast in Hoboken, and I became very ill, spending a fair amount of time in the restroom. I was only able to eat half my sandwich. I had a lot to drink the night before, so I chalked it up to a hangover.

Afterwards, we journeyed into the city. We walked around a bit, and then said goodbye to Boston.

N asked what I wanted to do and told me he wanted to grab drinks. He contacted some of his friends he knew were in the city. Finally, two coworkers responded, so we decided to grab drinks and lunch with them.

As we all entered the bar, older creepy men were checking N out. One of N’s coworkers pointed out we were both given the up downs. I was a little creeped out by it, but N thrived on the attention. That really turned me off. I was starting to see a side of N I had never seen before, and I didn’t like what I was seeing. At one point, I went to the bathroom. I knew I would be the topic of conversation while I was gone. When we were walking to dinner later, N pulled me aside and told me they asked if we were dating. I wanted to ask him what his response was, but I wasn’t feeling myself. No words came out. He then gave me a peck on the cheek. We were in Chelsea for Pride Weekend. This is the time he could be very affectionate and open, and the only sign of affection I received all day was a tiny peck on the cheek. The guy from the night before got more action than me.

As the day progressed, I became less and less attracted to N. The way he reacted to some of the more disturbing stories recounted at dinner really threw me for a loop. We ordered dinner, and of course, I couldn’t eat it. Between the alcohol and the emotional turmoil, I felt awful. At one point, one of N’s coworkers mouthed across the table, “Are you okay?” I told him I was just really tired from the night before.

When dinner ended, N wanted to continue drinking. It was Sunday night, and I was beat, as were his coworkers. Begrudgingly, he agreed to come back to Hoboken and back to my apartment. When we were one block from my apartment, N reached down and held my hand. It was a very romantic gesture, but too little too late. As we came in sight of his apartment, he released my hand. This romantic gesture lasted all of thirty seconds.

When we got back to my apartment, I decided it was time to tell him about my blog. It was his right to know, and I needed to know if it upset him before I continued. He was shocked to hear about it, but told me he didn’t care and wasn’t going to read it. So, to all my faithful readers, the show goes on. I also came clean about the extent of my relationship with the 40 year-old. I did this because I lied to him about the interaction, but was truthful in my blog. I wanted him to hear the truth from my mouth, not a computer screen. This upset him immensely, which I couldn’t understand. It all happened before I met him. However, he apparently had some background information about this man and was holding it against me. I tried to defend myself, but he didn’t want to hear it. It bothered me that he was so upset, but I couldn’t undo the past.

At that point, we started to watch porn. The computer was out, and I suppose we needed to break the tension. I never did this with Broadway, but I was open to the idea with N. However, he got overly excited by this. He started about how he’d love to be a porn star. Once again, I was losing the attraction to the man in front of me. This was not the guy I fell for. I still had no idea what happened to cause the switch, but something was very different with him.

All of a sudden, we were interrupted by the sound of fireworks. We completely forgot about them. We ran to the balcony to watch. In the middle of all the explosions, I burst out with, “So are we exclusive?”

The next few moments were a blur, but I do know the gist of answer was no. I could understand if we weren’t exclusive up to that point, but I couldn’t fathom not being exclusive going forward.

When he explained his lack of interest in a monogamous relationship, I asked him if he has been sleeping with any other men since he met me. He told me of one guy he hooked up with after our third or fourth date. They exchanged blowjobs, but when this other man told him he was kind of in a relationship, N decided it better to be just friends. (This is also one of the guys he and I were possibly going to meet up with earlier that day.)

I couldn’t understand his rational. If he didn’t want to be “the other man,” why was he willing to seek out another man himself. What we had was pretty great, but he was leaving the door open for himself. If something better came along, he would upgrade. When I expressed this to him, he asked, “Upgrade to what?” I immediately responded, “A better situation.” It was so simple to me, how could he not understand that? I felt so used! He explained he wasn’t seeking out other men, but that didn’t make it any better. I already couldn’t trust him, and I had a pretty strong feeling he was lying.

I felt awful. Like someone stabbed me with a knife. Before the conversation, I knew what his answer was going to be, but hearing him say no broke my heart all over again. I was a shell of a human being.

After we finished talking, we went inside and had sex, and I finally got to have my way with him — All the way this time, not just the tip. It was pretty good too, but ended quickly due to N’s lack of experience.

In my mind, things were beginning to end between us. It’s almost as if that night was our breakup sex. I was pleased to know I got it in at least once before we broke up. I don’t know why, but it felt fulfilling. That’s how I knew it was over. I lost the emotional connection to the man who days earlier I was falling in love with.

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Your Cheating Heart

Saturday, I woke up fairly later in the morning. N was still sleeping in my bed, and Boston was still sleeping on the couch when I started to make breakfast. I fried up some frozen homemade sausage patties and eggs. In the meantime, my two favorite men woke up and joined me in the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee, and we sat and ate. Boston and I planned to go into the city for the day. He hadn’t been to the city in ten years. He is in music school and asked to check out the original Steinway store to play on some of their finest pianos. We invited N to join, but his plans included shaving his back and getting a haircut.

When breakfast ended, N and I went into my room and fooled around. I was horny since we didn’t do anything the night before and hungry for real sex. But, N wasn’t 100% cooperative. “I feel bad that Boston is out there alone right now. Ya know, we could let him watch,” he said with a wink and a smile. I just laughed it off and continued with my heavy petting. (I did feel bad for Boston because he got out of the shower and all his clean clothes were in my bedroom.) When I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen, we stopped. N went home to get ready for his day of primping, and I showered to get ready for the city. (I would later come to find N accusing me of hooking up with Boston at this point)

When Boston and I arrived in the city, we came upon a street fair. We walked around and got lunch. Following, I showed him some of the major attractions. It was really nice just relaxing with Boston and walking around the city. He started to feel like a little brother. Finally we arrived at the Steinway and Son’s a half hour before they were about to close for a recital. Boston sat at a few of the pianos and blew me away with his talent. I told him if he ever wanted to impress a guy, he should take him to a piano store and it would be in the bag.

We also stopped into to Saks to visit one of Boston’s old friends. We said hi, and he invited us to a house party and a drag show at a bar on the lower east side, Drom.

On the walk back to Port Authority, we passed a few of the pianos sprinkled around the city. I made Boston sit and play after The Naked Cowboy finished tinkering in Times Square. He ended up being filmed by the man in charge of documenting the project. Overall, I’d say it was a good day for Boston.

When we got back to Hoboken, we got dressed to go out and went to my friend K’s for a bbq. We were skipping the house party, but were going to meet them at Drom.

Likewise, N had plans for the night. Originally, he told me he was going out to dinner with friends and they didn’t know if they were staying in the city or coming back to Hoboken. To me, this meant straight friends. I figured i received no details because he wasn’t out to his- fellow diners. I was wrong. As the day went on, I received more details. He was going to dinner with eight gay men, and then it evolved into them going to Industry, a gay bar.

I asked him if it was an issue if we met up at Industry until Boston’s friends went to the lower east side. He told me to come. When Industry had a long line, they decided to go to Ritz, not my favorite bar. Boston and I finished at the bbq and headed to Ritz. On the walk there from Port Authority, I expressed my concerns about N and the night. I told him how shady it felt since he was being somewhat secretive. When we arrived, N’s phone was dying. I tried calling and texting to no avail. We went into the first floor and couldn’t find him anywhere. We tried upstairs to no avail as well. Finally, he texted me back. He was outside to smoking and trying to find us.

When he finally came back in, he was a drunk sweaty mess. I was way too sober to be there. I get very uncomfortable in gay bars for some reason. So, I ordered four straight vodka shots, two of which were for myself. He began to grind his ass in my crotch, and I liked it! This was the first time we could dance together and not create a total scene. A good portion of the night from then on is a blur for me. I got very drunk so I could tolerate the heat and the club and have blacked out a few bits.

When Boston got a text from his friends, we decided to leave. N told me he was coming with us. I was very pleasantly surprised. Boston and I went outside while N said goodbye to his fiends. When ten minutes passed, and he didn’t come out, I went back into the bar. As I was walking up the stairs, I noticed him talking to someone. Men were passing between us going up and down the stairs, but just then I saw him lean in and kiss this man. My heart shattered into a million pieces. In that millisecond, I felt my world crumbling around me. I know it was just one little kiss, but the fact that he was talking to another man, exchanging numbers and kissing broke my heart. I was crushed.

I didn’t know what to do other than run. I turned and sped down the stairs. He must have seen me at that instant because he chased after me. He tried to spin me around by grabbing my shoulder, but I flung my arms into the air and shouted, “Don’t touch me!” All that went through my head at that point was how many other guys were you grinding on and kissing before I arrived at the bar? We never had the exclusive conversation, but at that point, he was sleeping in my bed almost every night. We were in a relationship, even if it wasn’t defined.

He tried to calm me down on the street, but I was making a scene. I didn’t know what to do. When I get heated I get loud. He asked me to have a conversation and stop shouting, but I couldn’t be calm. I couldn’t be rational. I was enraged. Somehow, he managed to calm me down and convince me it was just a peck on the cheek in passing. Out of my inebriation, I let it go, and we went to the next bar. I felt awful. Boston was standing across the street witnessing this whole scene uncomfortably waiting for us to meet up with his friends at Drom.

In the cab ride, I decided I would pretend it didn’t happen for the night. Boston was only in town until the morning. I would deal with the situation later. I needed to entertain my good friend.

Boston lost his ID the night before, so when we attempted to enter the bar, the bouncer was not cooperative. Finally, when I shoved $40 into his hand, he let us in. After we each paid the $12 cover (on to of the $40), we came to realize Boston’s friends already left. The scene was dead. When I realized there was no chance in hell I was going to have fun the rest of the night, we grabbed a few drinks, and I volunteered to go on the hunt to find Boston a man to have fun with. We asked him what his type was. He explained. Then, N asked him if he was a top or a bottom. (This really had no relevance to the situation, and I think N took advantage to satiate his own curiosity.) When Boston was reluctant to elaborate, N said, “I’m a total top, but I love it when he puts his dick in my ass.” This was news to me. Especially since it never really fully made it there. It was just confirmation he was pumping Boston for information because he had a crush on him.

At one point, N and Boston walked to the bar to get drinks while I went to the restroom. Days later, Boston recounted for me the following exchange: N firmly gripped Boston’s ass and said, “How do you get an ass like that? So tight and firm. I’d really like to put my dick in there.” Had I known this happened that night, I would have left the bar with Boston and that would have been the end of it.

When we were all thoroughly exhausted and bored, we hopped in a cab back to Hoboken. No sooner we were in the door, and N was passed out face down on my bed in his underwear. This raised a whole new red flag in my brain. He was donning the sexiest underwear I’d ever seen him wear. His back was freshly shaved, his chest was cleanly shaved and he had a new haircut. All those are fine, but who was he expecting to see his underwear at a gay club. He spent the entire day getting ready for this night out. He never spent that much time primping to see me. Everything was starting to add up. From the business trip I took on, N was quickly distancing himself and seeking relationship freedom.

I went back out to the kitchen to chat with Boston. He immediately said, “OK! What happened!? What did you see!?” I explained to him the kiss, and in typical fashion, he dealt me the truth. He explained how N manipulated me that night as he watched from across the street. He told me to trust what I saw and trust my own instincts. We talked for at least another hour after that.

N’s phone was sitting there the whole time as well. I picked it up and was about to look through his Grindr messages because I wanted to find the closure I needed to tell him it was over. I couldn’t trust him anymore, but if I had proof, I would be able to get over it myself. Boston convinced me how bad that idea was. I put the phone down without pushing a button. To this day, I still regret not looking. It’s completely out of character for me to not trust someone and read their phone, but it would have delivered me the closure I needed.

At that point, I was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. That night I was delivered a heavy blow to the gut and needed to sleep to forget about it even for one instant. Boston went to the couch, and I begrudgingly went to share my bed with the man I had seen kissing another man. I laid down with my back to him and tears streaming down my face. I was crushed by what happened. I had no idea what to do. I still had very strong feelings for him, but couldn’t turn a blind eye. It isn’t who i am. I’m no one’s fallback or second best. However, I did know it was certainly not going to be a fun morning for him either…

[twitter-follow screen_name=’onegayatatime’ link_color=’00ccff’

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Boston in the House

The next day, I did my best to forget the Grindr guy quickly. He was just a body I used, and the guilt I felt for using another human being like that was more than I could take. I disgusted myself. Not to mention what I did to N. I betrayed his trust. Something that is devastating to me, because if I’m nothing, I’m honest. I did exactly what I thought he did, and it didn’t make it any better. Just worse.

Much to my pleasure, Boston was visiting for the weekend. We planned it weeks prior and the day finally arrived. It just so happened we picked Pride Weekend in NYC for his visit. Perfect timing.

I left work at 2:00 to pick Boston up from Port Authority. However, his bus didn’t arrive for another two hours. I sat across the street at Schnipper’s Quality Kitchen reading the gay edition of the Village Voice. I found a lot of interesting articles to entertain myself while I waited. Especially the “Why I Hate Being Gay!” article. Once he arrived, we grabbed a quick lunch and hopped back on a bus to Hoboken.

That night, I planned an elaborate seafood dinner to welcome Boston and invited many of my friends, some of which he previously met in Miami. They too were excited to see him again. He’s just a good guy you always want to be around.

After he dropped his bags and got settled, Boston and I walked to the grocery store to get the few ingredients I needed to make the meal that night. I was going all out, with every kind of seafood I could think of. The night before I went to the store and bought so much seafood, the guy gave me a bunch of free things because I “just made his night” buying so much. He is a very nice older gentleman who I believe plays for my team. Boston was a really good friend who was always there for me when I needed an ear to talk off. I was going to treat him like a king while he visited.

When we got back, we talked while I prepared the meal. People slowly started trickling in, and everyone pitched in to help. We were all having fun, and Boston was getting to know a few of my friends. One friend was absent, however. N was nowhere to be found. He knew that I was making this meal. I had been talking about it the entire week leading up to Boston’s visit. Where the hell was he?

Finally, I got ahold of him via text, and he told me he was still at the gym and would be missing dinner. He was going to come by later after he showered. I was a little disappointed in him. I wanted him to be there, and he knew it. We were already on shaky ground with everything that was happening, and this was just one more thing to fan the flames. I told him I would save him some if he was lucky. He said, “I’ll just grab something now, and snack on it after the bar later tonight.” That got me even more annoyed. I felt like I was being treated like a short order cook.

While we ate, the wine was flowing, and following dinner, the spirits were too. Everyone was pregaming before we went off to the bar. Finally, N arrived. We already decided on a bar. My favorite bar, McSwiggans. I’m treated like royalty there. I know every bartender, bounce, and manager, and they take GOOD care of me. Once we were all properly lubricated, we journeyed to the bar.

It was a good scene. Lots of people dancing and having fun, and because I’m well connected there, we didn’t have to wait in line. Some of my friends who were unable to make it to dinner were meeting us at the bar. One of my old roommates was already there with his friend having a blast. I introduced Boston to more of my friends, and we all had a blast.

N and I were particularly flirtatious that night. We had been to this bar together, but it is definitely a straight bar. We normally let our guard down there because we feel comfortable, but that night we were probably obvious. We did everything but kiss right in the middle of the crowd. I was having a good time with him. All the problems drifted away. I was also happy to have Boston finally come visit, and he was having a good time too.

Apparently, N forgot I told him Boston is gay. He began to tell me how perfect a match he would be for his roommate until I reminded him. Then, I think he started to crush on him a little, as well as my old roommate. He kept on talking about how attractive they both are and how perfect my old roommate would be for his roommate as well. He was “just her type.” I tried to brush off the fact that he was telling me how he was attracted to my friends. It was off-putting, but I assumed it was innocent.

After some time, the three gay amigos started to bond. There was a very attractive guy who I had often seen at McSwiggans. We always made eye contact, but never spoke and never exchanged anything of substance. I always wondered which team he played for, and I expressed this to the two other gay men I was with. I felt bad for pointing this guy out in front of N, but he talked about the guys in the gym on a regular basis, so I didn’t feel that terrible. We all have terrible gaydar, but I thought our forces combined would be able to work it out. We couldn’t come to agreement, so we sent in the troops. Boston volunteered to walk past him on his way to the bathroom and cup his ass with his hand while he did. We would hypothesize his sexuality based on his reaction.

When Boston returned from the restrooms, he informed us how much of this guys ass he grasped. “I got a serious handful and a long feel. He didn’t budge an inch. I can’t decide what that means!” So, it would still remain a mystery.

The rest of the night was spent drinking a lot more and dancing our asses off. We had a blast. When the closing bell rang, Boston, N and myself walked back to my apartment. We hung out on the balcony for a while until I fell asleep on N’s shoulder. At that point, he tried to carry me to bed, but only woke me up. I walked to my bed while they walked to get slices of pizza. I immediately passed out again as soon as I hit the sheets. I only know N spent the night because he was in my bed the next morning…

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