CK and I arrived home, and after a night of shirtless dancing together, we were both ready to get down and dirty. Our night out with Old News was a little disappointing and frustrating for me, but I put it all in perspective for myself. CK loved me, and he came home with me. He no longer lived in the same building as Old News, and I hoped they saw very little of each other when I wasn’t around. I had no reason not to trust CK with him. After all, it was he who told me about their failed plan to move in together when Old News professed his feelings for him. We’d only been on a handful of dates at the time, but he felt comfortable telling me about their brief history.
Anyway, back to the good stuff. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were barely in the door before CK started pillaging my body. He was stripping my clothes from my body as we both moved toward the bed. I got him down to his briefs before he shoved me backward onto the bed. He pounced like a jungle cat, and we began to roll around on the bed furiously. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. They were exploring every inch of the other’s body.
At first he was on top, and then I was on top. Our positions changed by the minute. Things were incredibly passionate, and what ensued was the best sex we’d had to date. It was raw and sexy, passionate and dirty. We were both enjoying ourselves immensely, climaxing in turn.
We laid next to each other as beads of sweat ran across our bodies. The sex was HOT! We were both exhausted since it was late, and we had a long night at the club. We passed out like rocks until the morning.
When we woke in the morning, we had a busy day ahead of ourselves. We got up, showered and made our way out the door. I was starving. While CK was on his cleanse, drinking a shake, I needed real food. Since I was watching what I ate, we stopped at Subway on the way to his friends’ apartment. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this after the way his friend treated me, however, I was going to be the better man. I would kill him with kindness.
When we arrived, I got a tepid welcome from his friend. Hip, however, was thrilled to see me and gave me a big hug. We sat and chatted a bit about our plans for the rest of the day. Although his friend bought he and his boyfriend tickets to Matinee that evening, he decided not to go. Everyone else tried to convince him to come, to no avail. He wasn’t budging. Hip, on the other hand, wasn’t planning to go since it wasn’t that long ago he had hip replacement surgery. With some gentle prodding, we convinced him to join us. I was utterly thrilled. I needed a bit of a security blanket for this event. I was freaking out a little inside, and having another friend there would be key to my sanity. It also worked out for Hip and I because we were able to buy the unused tickets, but that’s another story for another time.
CK and I were on a schedule. Unbeknownst to me, CK had volunteered us to be a part of some street team for Matinee. I had no idea what he’d gotten us into. I already wasn’t entirely comfortable with the weekend ahead, and he wasn’t making it easier by surprising me with activities.
We made our way to Columbus Circle to meet up with a friend of a friend of someone he chatted with on Twitter. I still had no idea what we were doing, and CK wasn’t even waiting for me to cross the street. I stood on one side of the street watching him walk away completely oblivious to my lack of presence as he ran in front of cars talking on his phone. I was really starting to get annoyed. He wasn’t taking my feelings into consideration at all.
About 30 yards later, he realized I wasn’t there and finally turned around to look for me. By then, I was approaching him after the light changed. I don’t think my faced could have shown more apathy than it did in that moment. I asked him what we were doing and who we were looking for, and finally I got some answers, vague as they were. “We’re looking for a bunch of hot boys handing out flyers. We’re going to help hand out flyers or something,” he said. We searched all over Columbus Circle for these guys, even venturing underground to Equinox.
Finally, we managed to meet up with them. There was an adorably mismatched couple, a black diva and a Brooklyn hipster. While we waited for them to get their act in gear, I stood analyzing the couple. I was a little fascinated by them. They obviously both worked out a lot, but one was an energetic, tiny guy, and the other a soft-spoken, burly bear. I was very curious who was the top and who was the bottom, but I dared not ask.
Apparently, I was going to fully embrace the essence of pride. The plan was for us to canvas Hell’s Kitchen, handing out flyers to passersby while we made a ruckus to draw attention. We were outfitted with t-shirts, buttons, hats, large signs, water guns, flyers and more. I took a t-shirt and followed everyone else’s lead, customizing my shirt by ripping and tearing it. I felt very self-conscious, but I tried to embrace it. There was no getting out of this, so I needed to make the best of it. I took a large stack of flyers and started handing them out to every guy we passed and placed them on every surface I could.
Along the way, we made a few stops at stores and made some new friends. I was actually starting to have fun with my new street brigade. The burly bear still fascinated me. This wasn’t because I had a crush on him or anything. I’m just a people watcher, and I was noticing how shy this big beefy dude was. I also learned his boyfriend was one of the dancers on the stage the night before at XL. We stopped at Tagg to say hi to some guys selling apparel on the sidewalk in front of the store. They told us they had a free open bar and invited us to take advantage. I wasn’t ready to drink yet, but I thought maybe it might loosen me up.
We continued down Ninth Avenue, handing out flyers and stopping in more stores. While in Universal Gear, CK fell in love with a pair of booty shorts. The rest of the crew was ready to keep on keeping on, but in true fashion, CK was stopping to try them on. He decided he “absolutely NEEDED” to wear them to Matinee that night. Naturally. I went outside to hang with the rest of the crew while he stood in line to pay, telling them they could move on, and we’d catch up.
Eventually, CK emerged elated, and we were on our way. Hip joined us for the last leg of our journey. We had fun together, messing around until we reached our final stop.
I am delighted to say, I actually had a good time promoting. Normally, that sort of thing is my biggest nightmare. But, by embracing the experience fully, I was able to let go and have fun; I simply stopped caring!
When we finished our promotion journey, we made our way back to CK’s apartment to get ready. Little did I know what exactly that would entail, but I knew the night was only going to get crazier and more stressful from there.
That night, when we got home from the lake, we both collapsed in a pile on my bed. We barely had any energy left in us. We had a blast on the lake all day, followed by a belly full of lobster, clams and more. It was one of those summer days we will never forget.
We laid cuddling on my bed for some time. Both of us had our eyes closed. Regardless of how tired I was, my restraint was no match for my libido. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Holding CK in my arms and feeling his body against mine immediately made me hard. I couldn’t help myself, and I couldn’t keep my hands off his amazing body.
What started as innocent kissing quickly escalated. Slowly, but surely, we were stripping each other of articles of clothing until we were embracing and pulling our naked bodies tight against each other. We began to find our rhythm, and the grinding ensued. There was no penetration at this point; we were sensually rubbing key components against each other.
We couldn’t control ourselves, as was common for us. We began rolling and wrestling on the bed. One minute, I was on my back, and in the next minute, he was. The passion was off the charts. We hadn’t had foreplay this hot in quite some time. Eventually, he whispered in my ear, “I want you inside me.” “Yea?” I responded. With that, I opened the top drawer of my dresser and pulled out the lube. I worked over his areas while I teased myself with my lubricated hands. I rested his legs against my chest and shoulders while he guided me in. I could see the ultimate love in his eyes. As I slowly slid inside him, they got wide with excitement.
With every thrust, the love-making grew more passionate. Two things can be truly said about my sex-life with Superman: We have both truly become versatile in bed, and we both fully own the positions we find ourselves in. Whether I top or he tops, it’s epic, and the same goes for bottoming. I love the synchronicity of this type of sexual relationship. We are both getting every experience out of our sex. There is nothing holding us back from fully enjoying each other’s body. Neither of us is pigeon-holed in a position either. When we get into bed, neither of us has any idea who position we’ll be taking. It all happens naturally, and it’s simply epic!
We continued some time before I finished expelling my seed. From them on, Superman was my whole world. My only concern was getting him off, and without pause, he was finishing right after me. I reached down to the bottom drawer of my nightstand and grabbed him a towel. It was just what we needed after a long day on the lake. I was so horny all day staring at his package in his bathing suit. CK is no small man, trust me. It’s absolutely gorgeous, however, it’s torture to see the outline of it through his white trunks without the ability to do anything with it because we’re in public. It’s such a tease. All that built up to equal our romp in the sack that night.
We both laid there drifting in and out of consciousness until we were both out cold. We woke a few hours later. We had to head into the city. CK didn’t have things with him to go to work on Monday morning, so I packed a bag for the following day, and we made our way into the city.
That night, we slept soundly. I fell asleep in his arms, my favorite place to be. Nothing mattered when I was in his embrace — Nothing besides him.
The following day, while at work, CK texted me to see if I would be interested in going to see a performance piece entitled Confessions of a Cuban Sex Addict. At first glance, the joke was there to be made that it was somewhat autobiographical of CK, but I resisted. I wasn’t entirely feeling it. CK was going through a cleanse, and I was strictly watching my diet in solidarity. As a result, we were both particularly cranky. But, when he posed the idea of going (with free tickets) as research for my blog, I agreed to go.
I arrived at the theater earlier than CK. I waited outside for him to arrive. I greeted him with a big kiss, and we made our way inside just in time. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but when the performance began, I was entranced. It was incredibly erotic and intriguing. The story struck a chord deep within me. I had never experienced anything like what the author had gone through, but I knew that vulnerability of sharing one’s story with the public. As he continued his monologue, the lead encouraged us to follow him on the short journey deeper into the performance space itself. It was incredibly raw (and by raw I mean emotion, not literal sex). We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We met the author on our way out, and we thanked him for sharing his story with us. We were both a little taken aback by what we just witnessed. It was a very powerful performance piece acted out by incredible thespians. You could feel the raw emotion throughout the entire performance.
We hopped in a cab since we were quite far from his apartment. Along the way, CK and I started kissing, and I bit CK’s lip harder than I meant to. I have to admit, I did mean to bite him, just not that hard. He had been biting me for some time, and I hated it. I told him, yet it continued. Because of this, I decided I would do it back to him until he stopped. I meant to be playful, but he took it completely the wrong way. He flipped out on me, and it was more than I could handle. I blew up at him. He had a lot of nerve. He was constantly biting me, and every time I protested. Now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine, and it turned into a huge ordeal. I couldn’t stomach the hypocrisy, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time. I let him have it. We argued the whole way back to his place, and the argument continued on the sidewalk in front of his building. He was not understanding where I was coming from. He just kept making excuses for why it was okay. This wasn’t something I would just drop for the sake of arguing. I wanted him to stop biting me. Finally, I got through to him, and he understood how much I hated it. I also apologized for the blowup. We were both at fault and both needed to apologize.
The one good thing about CK and I is that we can fight and move on. I never fought with the other guys I dated, but looking back in hindsight, it was not a sign of a strong relationship — It was a sign of the lack thereof. We fought, but we never went to bed angry with each other. We hash it all out, and we move on. I was actually happy to see us fighting periodically. No one truly enjoys fighting, and I rarely go picking fights I don’t really care about, but I realized we fight because we care. It was healthy. It was then I knew I was on the road to a long and healthy relationship.
After a relaxed night, including dinner, cuddling and a dream-filled night sleeping together, CK and I woke early feeling frisky. It was six am, but we were both turned on and wide awake.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started fooling around. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I was pulling him in tight and hugging him with all my might. I never wanted to let go. I lifted my hand, and gave him a smack on his backside. He always liked this — I was somewhat obsessed with his butt. It was amazing — Like The David amazing.
He put his mouth around my member and went to town. I laid back and enjoyed all the sensations. It was all I could do to hold out from jumping on top of him and slipping inside. After some time, my wish was granted. We changed positions, and I was on top of him. I slid in slowly, savoring every stimulation sensation I felt as I did. I started slow, and the pace only picked up from there. We changed to many other positions that morning.
We continued until neither could take it anymore. He finished, and we made our way to the shower to clean up. The fun didn’t end in the bed. We continued molesting each other while we showered together.
After we dried off, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I wanted more sex. We were already late from fooling around in bed all morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate all day at work if I didn’t finish. He began to blow me once again, which morphed into mutual oral pleasure. I still couldn’t finish. It was getting late, and we weren’t making much progress, so we stopped. I would simply save it for that night.
We got dressed and made our way to the PATH to head into work. We both read the third book of the Hunger Games series, Mocking Jay. I had only a handful of pages left before I finished. I was at a part of the book that was very emotionally charged and describes a loving relationship my boyfriend and I often mimicked. I was very happy with the ending, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Reading the book made me fall in love with him even more.
I texted him throughout the day to tell him how much I missed him. All day long, he would ask me, “Real or not real?” — a line from the Hunger Games books. This was definitely real. I was falling in love with this amazing man every second of every day.
I also took the opportunity to ask him if he liked lobster. I was thinking we’d go to the grocery store and pick up some cheap lobsters for dinner. He was totally onboard.
He needed to stop by his place before coming to mine. Since it was only a few blocks from my office, he encouraged me to swing by before heading to Hoboken. I told him this wouldn’t be an extended thing. I explained I still needed to go to the grocery store to get the lobsters before cooking them. I didn’t want to get sucked into a post-work romp before heading back to my place.
We finally made our way to my apartment. We hopped on the motorcycle and hit up ShopRite in Hoboken. I have to tell you; the seafood guy there is the coolest. He knows so much about seafood and will always suggest how to cook things. We even took the opportunity to snap a picture of him weighing the four lobsters we bought. It was then and there we decided to go home and play with the lobsters. We were going to have Hunger Game reenactments. We were like a bunch of teenage girls.
When we got home, we put all the lobsters on the counter and cut the bands off their claws. I grabbed the whiteout so we could paint them to denote who was who. We even bought pitas to represent Peeta. CK had the great idea to use the Video Star app to make a music video set to Lana Del Ray’s parody of Video Games, Hunger Games.
While he filmed with his iPhone, we moved the lobsters around and made them fight each other.
When we were done playing, we dropping the lobsters into the pot and steamed them. We each had our own lobster, and I froze the other two to use for other recipes down the road (Yes, I keep lobster on hand to use in recipes). They were delicious. When we sufficiently made a mess of the entire kitchen and had our fill, we cleaned up and made our way to my bedroom. We watched a little TV before we both dozed off.
Things were starting to feel routine with him, and not in a bad way. We were so comfortable together. This is also when we both realized just how comfortable we are with each other. While in bed, he let one rip in front of me. I laughed hysterically. We’d finally reached the point we could comfortable fart in front of each other. I too squeezed one out in an act of solidarity. I told him how many farts I’d already buried in the bed with him in the past. We talked very openly about it from then on out. He asked questions about holding it in, and I explained I would always let them go when I left the room and even brought up how one slipped the first night I spent at his place. We both had a hearty laugh about it all.
He made me so happy. I found myself spending my entire day looking forward to seeing him again. Work was simply something I did between my time off — Between the time I’d get to see him again.
It had been some time since I got to spend some alone time with Clark Kent. I didn’t see him Monday, but the following day at work, we texted each other constantly counting down the minutes until we’d be together again. I was going to his place after work. I knew he was horny, but I had a long day at work. I was a bit tired and waited to relax and lay around together. That wasn’t the case.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We fooled around in bed for some time before he asked if he could f#ck me. I got into position, and we went at it. Something was different this time. He was going much deeper than usual. This didn’t hurt or provide discomfort. It actually felt good. When we were finished, we hopped in the shower to clean up.
Afterwards, we returned to the bed, and this time, it was my turn. He laid on his stomach with his back arched waiting for me to mount him. It was incredibly hot. The sex this time was a bit different as well. I was going deeper inside him. He expressed his pleasure derived from this and commented on how hard I was the whole time. The sex that night was purely amazing. We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and each other. Our chemistry was right on that night.
The plan was to spend the night in Hoboken. I had a Groupon to use up for a restaurant on the waterfront, Trinity, so we stopped there on the way back to my apartment. The conversation over dinner was great. We were both feeling very casual and catching up on everything we missed being separated over the weekend.
In the middle of one of our conversation I accidentally slipped the phrase “my kid.” I was hoping to gloss over it, and he wouldn’t notice. When I finished my sentence, he inquired, “You want a kid?” I explained that I did, but the timing was still to be determined. I turned the question on him, and he expressed the desire to have a kid. That’s when I told him my plan that would work should we decide to raise a child together. We both had sisters. I proposed that if his sister donated an egg, and my sperm fertilized it, it would be of the blood of both our families. That way, neither would be detached from that child. It would be a part of both of us. The same would work with his sperm and my sister’s egg. It does create the Aunt Mommy problem, but I still think it’s a great idea.
Everything just felt right. This guy was great. My mention of having kids one day didn’t even scare him off. If anything, he said it turned him on. Where did he come from? What did I do to deserve him? He was purely amazing.
When we finished, we walked home to my apartment. We talked about the sex we had earlier that evening. We discussed the deep penetration and how much pleasure we both got out of it. I loved our frank conversations. We could talk about anything.
When we got home, he passed out immediately. I stripped him of his clothes and got him ready for bed. I wasn’t quite ready yet. I had something to say first:
I said, “I have a word that is on the tip of my tongue. I find myself wanting to say it on numerous occasions, but I’m just not sure if I’m ready for it yet. We only know each other for a month, and I’m not trying to rush things, but I just wanted you to know where my head was at. I’m exceptionally fond of you. I love spending time with you. I love being with you. I love getting to know you…”
In a few moments, after dozing off, he woke again. He turned to me and had something to say. He stopped himself short. He wasn’t sure if I’d said something to him or if he dreamed it. He didn’t want to say it aloud in case he did dream it, but I insisted he tell me. I know he was analyzing what I’d said earlier, and I wanted to be sure he heard me.
Sure enough, it was what I’d said before. He asked me if it was real or not real, a line from The Hunger Games. I assured him it was very real. With that, we exchanged a passionate kiss, turned out the light and went to bed.
Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.
I barely knew him, but I could already tell we were quite a match. On top of that, we weren’t even done the first date before he planned to see me again. It was his suggestion for us to catch The Hunger Games Saturday morning while we had breakfast.
I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.
I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.
He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!
We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.
We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.
We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!
When the movie was over, we made our way to the street and discussed the film while we walked. This was his second time seeing the movie. He expressed interest in reading the book, and I strongly encourage him to. I was already part of the way through the second book in the series of three.
We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.
When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.
He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.
We stopped by Pinkberry on the way back to his rooftop as per his request. We ordered ice cream and shared spoonfuls with each other as we walked up the street. When we got back to his place, we headed straight to the roof.
We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.
After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.
Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”
Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.
I told him it was a very long time for me since any guy had been inside me. I told him he’d have to go VERY slow. He began to slide in when I gripped his leg and implored him to stop. He told me to relax and just hold it there, but I insisted he pull out. I needed a break before we could continue. I know he thought it would be better if he simply held it there, but I was being painfully stretched. He wasn’t exactly a small guy — Quite the opposite. He pulled out, and I could see the disappointment on his face. He thought that was it, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I just needed a second to relax again. He began kissing me in a caring way. It was as if it was his way of saying, “I never want to hurt you again.” When I regain composure, I directed him to begin again. Delight spread across his face at this news.
This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.
He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.
We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?
Once again, another Friday arrived, and once again, I used up a carry-over vacation day to stay home and relax.
This post is embarrassing. It is now especially embarrassing because a few readers have commented about my promiscuous ways, but nonetheless, I will report the incident honestly and to my best ability. I, in no way shape or form, condone the following behavior. An early warning as well – this post will be graphic.
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.
Finally, I found one, and we both began to hunt for that elusive third. There were many roadblocks, and lots of waiting to hear back when questions were posed. I thought I had it all worked out, when one of the guys went dark on me. I was very disappointed because I thought I found the perfect combination. One top (me), one bottom, and one vers. When the bottom got a flat tire, it all went to $hit. All this juggling really made me realize why this never happened before.
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!
Then the underwear was removed on all parties. There was lots of rubbing, kissing, sucking, etc. After some time, I broke out the condoms and lube. I was horny and ready to get started with the real fun. After using his poppers, the bottom was ready and eager, so I penetrated him while he orally pleasured the vers. Then the vers came to my side of the bed. We’d already discussed I wasn’t bottoming, but he thought I could be persuaded. I told him sorry, but no. I backed off and let him have a turn with the bottom.
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.
There was something that really turned me on watching the other two guys have sex. I pulled out and encouraged the vers to join in again. I wanted to sit on the couch and finish while I watched them. The bottom wasn’t happy about this because the vers was bad at sex. All three of us were on the couch when I finally finished on my chest. The vers reached climax as well, but the bottom seemed content with stopping before he finished.
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.
I have a generous amount of vacation days, as I did a very good job negotiating when I was hired at my job. I don’t, however, have friends who share the same luck. They can either take the time off and have no money to travel, or they have money, but can’t get away from work. On top of this, being single leaves me only with the option to travel – Alone. I don’t enjoy this. As a result, I build up all these vacation days and never use them.
When the new year arrives, I have until the end of March to use up all the days I carried over. As a result, I start giving myself four day work-weeks and have staycations. I decided to take Monday off after the local holiday in Hoboken. As per my usual, I woke up horny and turned to Grindr. I tried to get one guy I’d been flirting with to come to my place. He lived in the city in Harlem, so no matter how hard I tried, he was not going to come to Hoboken.
After him, I went through a ton of Grindr guys trying to find someone to come over for some morning fun. None were biting. I turned Grindr off after what I’m sure was over an hour of surfing, and hopped on the computer. I thought I would give adam4adam a shot. I had messaged a few guys, but I wasn’t getting a response. That was until I found one guy who is 26 and worked in the area.
He was a good-looking guy, as per his profile pictures. We began exchanging messages. He unlocked his pictures, and I got a glimpse of his face finally. He was a very sexy, light-skinned black man. He had this college jock look about him, and I was very turned on. His body was fit, he was clean-cut, and his smile was utterly adorable.
I asked him if he’d be free later to swing by. He had a light day at work since his boss was out of the office. We discussed logistics since he worked in neighboring Jersey City. He could either take a cab or the light rail to my place. I gave him all his options, and we made a plan for him to come by around 4:00. I learned he was usually a top, but he was willing to bottom for me. This was extra exciting to me, because I had greater hope he’d be a more masculine man than most typical bottoms.
When he arrived, I was immediately taken back by how sexy he was in his work clothes. Then I noticed his incredible blue eyes. He looked just like Michael Ealy. He was very masculine and had on slacks, a dress shirt, a tie and an incredible smile. He wasn’t nervous about this at all, which I found to be very sexy. I led him into my room, and he immediately began undressing himself. I liked his matter-of-factness — His “I know the drill” style. I sat on the bed talking to him as he undid his tie, stripped off his shirt, removed his shoes and took off his pants.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. The man had an amazing body. I was very pleased. I could tell he takes good care of his body, and I was ready to ravage it. I wanted to touch every inch of his milk chocolate colored skin. I was still sitting on the bed in my gym shorts and tank top when he unexpectedly took off his boxer briefs as well. If I wasn’t already excited before, now I was rock hard. He walked toward me as I stood and removed my clothes as well.
He was a well gifted man, and once we were both fully undressed, we laid on the bed with him on top of me making out for a bit. He had amazing lips and knew how to use them. He had a strong body, and I enjoyed wrapping my arms around him. It was hot! We began to fool around and explore each other’s bodies.
Ater some making out and mutual oral pleasure, he got into position for me to use some of the techniques I’d read in Tickle My Tush. I knew he was normally a top, so I took the time to make sure he was fully ready and not rush things. I was enjoying myself as well. He seemed to be really enjoying himself as well from the sound of things.
That’s when I reached over the edge of the bed to my nightstand and grabbed a condom and some lube. He was face down on the bed in front of me, and the real fun was about to begin. I really enjoyed being up against his body and feeling him. He may not have been a bottom, but he sure was passionate in the bedroom and knew how to use his body. The sex was great, and eventually he finished. Seconds after that I too pulled back and finished. It was very hot! I grabbed a towel to clean up his back and the sheets below while we exchanged a few more kisses and expressed our enjoyment with each other.
Just as he undressed like he knew the drill, he began to get dressed. I learned he was heading back to work. I was surprised because he lived in the city. I assumed I was a pit stop on the way home. I felt bad for him he had to return to the office, but I didn’t regret inviting him over. I had a great time with him and would certainly be willing to have him swing by again sometime.
I walked him to the door and gave him another kiss goodbye. He was such a polite gentleman. I could tell him momma did a good job raising him. He thanked me, to which I replied, “Thank me!? Thank you! That was great! Anytime you want to do this again, you know how to reach me.” And with that, he was gone.
In the coming weeks, we’d try to do it again, but he was having a busy week. I could tell he was more than just a hot body, so after that, I asked him if he’d ever be interested in grabbing a drink sometime, but I got no response. Perhaps he will just remain a fond memory of a day off…
So much for getting things out of my system while in California. I was supposed to find myself while I was out there. I was supposed to calm down with the hookups. If anything, it had a converse reaction. Maybe it jump-started my libido. Since I arrived home, I had one meaningless one-night stand/hookup, and hooked up with a guy I could possibly considering seeing again. What was I, in college?
Wednesday at work, I was back to my old habits. I was all over Grindr searching for guys to go on dates with. The problem was none of them were looking for dates, so I decided to fill the time between dates with more hookups.
I hit up one of the guys in my favorite list, but he was really just interested in sex. We tried to make plans to meet up, but were having a hard time finding a location. He proposed an adult video store booth, but as you can imagine, I wasn’t onboard. He also wanted to go bareback, but I’d learned my lesson with that. No more taking those kinds of chances. When I tried to make more realistic plans, he flaked.
I started talking to one guy who was really hot. He wanted to hookup badly, but he needed time. He needed to prepare, which I can heavily respect, but he was also visiting. He needed to go out and get supplies to perform said preparation and needed to find poppers. It was pushing 6:00, and I wasn’t going to hang around the city any longer. He ended bailing on me, so I made my way home alone.
Two guys flaked on me; however, talking to them got me riled up. My libido was hungry. When did I become such a horn ball. After 25 years of basically no sex, you think I’d be fine going home with just my right hand.
I had an ace in the hole though. I texted the Middle Eastern guy from the pervious night and asked if he wanted to come over again. I don’t think I lifted my finger off the send button before I got a response back. He was certainly interested, but had to come over later after class. He wouldn’t arrive until around 10. That was fine. I figured out other things to do with my time, like eat dinner.
When he arrived, we went straight to my room, but I’m sure, much to your surprise, we didn’t immediately jump in the sack. We kissed for a bit, but then we simply laid next to each other cuddling while we watched Modern Family. We are both big fans!
Every time there was a commercial, he took the opportunity to kiss me passionately. There were no complaints from me. He was a great kisser. He had perfect lips and knew what he was doing. We also took the time to chat a bit. I wanted to get to know him a little. He lived with a bunch of guys in an apartment and even shared a room with a guy. None of them knew he was gay, and he recently broke up with a girl. He told me he’d been on a handful of Grindr meet-ups, but none were anything like what we shared. He told me how much he enjoyed the previous night and how much he thought about me all day long. It was very flattering, and a little alarming. This kid was falling for me — and fast. I needed to make sure things didn’t get out of control because I didn’t want to hurt him.
I couldn’t tell him what I was looking for because I didn’t know what I was looking for. I really wanted to find a boyfriend, but I wasn’t sure he fit the bill. This was new territory. I’d never dated anyone so much younger than me, let alone still in college. He was a really nice guy, and I could tell his friends loved him, but I was still conflicted. He was very mature, but nonetheless, he was still in school.
When the show was over, the making out led to heavy petting. Things escalated, and I invited him to spend the night. While naked, he walked to the bathroom to take out his contacts. I watched him from the bed, staring longingly at his body. I told him how hot I thought he was. He really riled me up. I loved the innocent confidence he exuded. It was incredibly sexy.
He told me he wanted to go to bed horny so we could wake in the morning and have some real fun. It was late, and I was tired, so I didn’t oppose. With that, he rolled into little spoon position, and I pressed my naked body against his in big spoon position. It felt so comfortable. It felt so right.
In the morning we both woke to the sound of my alarm — strategically set early to allow for time to play. We were both in a very frisky and playful mood. He certainly wasn’t shy about kissing. He loved it and did it often.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. While we embraced each other, he whispered in my ear how he wanted to ride me. I certainly was in no position to deny him this privilege. I was looking forward to it. I was shocked, him being so new, how much he was gung-ho about bottoming. I think he discovered he’s really a bottom. He hopped on, and it felt great. He came really close to finishing, but never did. I knew exactly what was happening, so I didn’t put any pressure on him or comment on it. That would only bring it to top of mind and make it worse.
He had to stop. He wanted to keep going, but told me he was sore. He informed me that I was a big guy. I’d never really thought of myself as big. I always thought of myself as average. But, as of late, I was informed otherwise. (This is not something that is important to me, but it is quite the ego boost to hear).
We laid next to each other once again pleasuring ourselves while he laid in the crook of my arm. I finished after a few minutes. I was happy things were turning around for me. It wasn’t taking a long time for me anymore. I was far from a one-minute man, but my mental block was easing. This wasn’t the case for Middle Eastern (will be called M.E. from now on). He never finished, but also never complained. He noted, “I can never [finish] after you’re inside me. I can’t explain it. It feels amazing, like a full body orgasm, but I just never shoot.” I knew exactly what he meant. I told him it’s just part of sex sometimes. I wanted to ease his mind.
With that, we both hopped in the shower, and I took the opportunity to wash him from head to toe with a bar of soap and my hands. It was really sexy and slightly romantic. We both enjoyed it. Then he did the same to me. It felt great!
While I get ready in front of the mirror, he noted its existence. He complimented me on what I was wearing to work. He really was charming and sexy. I was really starting to like this kid. I just worried we wouldn’t be able to have a real relationship. He was in the closet and in college. He told me he wasn’t hiding it anymore, but he was advertising it. I understood, but I just wasn’t sure if it was for me
Sunday night in LA, I took quite a blow to my heart. I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable goodbye, but I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’d driven all over LA trying to connect with The Navigator, but he wasn’t responding.
I faced facts and drove to the airport. I had no idea what else to do with my time, so I just drove to the car rental lot and returned my car. I figured I could at least use some time at the airport to blog a bit. I sat int he airport diner and ate my dinner alone.
My flight home was awful. First off, it was a redeye. I was set to land at 6:00am Monday morning. I had to go to work later that day so I tried my best to sleep on the plane. It was also awful because I was crammed in a widow seat towards the back of the plane. My airline status with United got me nowhere. I barely fit in my seat, and I wasn’t able to stretch out and walk around because the two men next to me were sleeping the entire flight.
I managed to sleep for two hours, but woke up after that. I had no feeling in my ring and pinky finger of my left had. Apparently I slept on it funny. When a fair amount of time passed, and I never regained feeling, I became worried. Maybe I had a blood clot or maybe I’d done some nerve damage. I tried to think about other things and distract myself, but I really started to get worried. I took out my laptop and did some more blogging, but even that was a challenge with two numb fingers. I was really starting to worry, but the feeling didn’t return the rest of the flight. (Four weeks and a doctor appointment later, and I finally regained feeling — I had a nerve impingement — Cubital Tunnel Syndrome).
I was exhausted all day at work Monday. I’d only gotten a few hours sleep on the plane and about one hour in my own bed before work. When I got home after work, I was still horny from my rambunctious trip. I was on Grindr, and a cute guy from the city wanted to come over for some fun. I didn’t turn him down since he was hot and said he’d wear his jockstrap.
When he arrived, I realized he was a redhead. He also had a slight Hispanic accent. He was also quite a presence clocking in at 6’4″. He was not born in America, but had been here a majority of his life. He was decent on the eyes, but nothing you’d run to your friends about. When he arrived we went straight to my room. He slowly got undressed and comfortable until we were both laying on the bed, me in my boxer briefs and him in a jockstrap.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I found the jockstrap very sexy. I’ve always been attracted to the athlete types and find locker rooms to be one of the sexiest places. They just turn me on. Always have.The jockstrap really gave him the leg up in my book. He was looking for a hot top, and I agreed to fill the position, literally. I broke out the condoms and lube, and we have a good time. Sometimes it was a little weird and awkward, but sex is never perfect! He really seemed to be enjoying himself. I did as well, but I could already tell this guy was going to linger. He was a gentle spirit. This would be no wham bam thank you man. I was going to have to sit through some pillow talk.
He started talking about his grandmother and how she is sick. He was flying home the following day to see her before she passed away. It wasn’t looking good. I started to feel bad for him, but then my emotions became distracted when he mentioned things like sleeping with her in her hospital bed. He looked like he was ready to cry, but all I could think about was this strange layout in a hospital room. I understood he was close to her, as she was responsible for raising him, but some of the things he was saying with his accent seemed very strange to me. There was obviously a cultural divide.
After we chatted some more, and he asked if he could use my shower. Now he was really pushing it! I obliged the request, but after that, he was gone.
He showered and toweled off. He began to get ready to go home. He talked about getting together again when he got back. He mentioned how heartless a lot of the other guys he’d hung out with were, and how sweet I was. He said how much he liked me. He wanted this to be an ongoing thing of friends with benefits. He told me his real name and that the name he gave me, Keith, was completely made up. Someone was a little paranoid. I felt like I found a stray puppy who wanted to follow me home. There would never be a next time, but I told him to hit me up when he got back from visiting his grandmother. After about three weeks, he did of course text, and I of course did not respond.
After my tryst with the Armenian and the Asian, I decided to order some real dinner. This was the last night I was on the company dollar, so I ordered some room service. While I waited, I chatted with the guy who wanted to come by later in the night. I sat and ate my meal in bed with just the TV to keep me company. I was feeling lonely, which is such a strange emotional state to be in considering I’d just shared one of the most intimate acts with two other men.
When midnight arrived, I started texting my late night snack. I asked him what he thought his E.T.A. would be. He told me it was still up the air, but he was definitely coming by. He was out with friends and would swing by on his way home.
Finally, around 2:00am, he texted he was finding parking and would be by shortly. Ten minutes later, I had a knock at the door, for the third time in a matter of hours.
He was a very nice polite black man who was anxious to spend some time with me. He seemed very young and innocent. We chatted a bit while sitting on the bed before any action began. It was getting late, and as rude as this sounds, I was ready to get it in and go to bed. I wanted a nightcap so I could doze off soundly till the morning.
Warning:The following may be too graphic for some. We had A LOT of foreplay and prep before anything happened. He really wanted to cuddle for a long time before we could even get frisky. I was almost ready to call it quits and ask him to leave. It was getting late, and I was getting tired.
There was a lot of kissing. A lot of heavy petting. A lot of licking and sucking. Finally, he was ready and got into position for me to penetrate him. I could tell this wasn’t a guy who gave it up to just anyone. Normally, I’m really into the foreplay and making out, but I’d already had my engine warmed up earlier that evening. In fact, the car had been taken around the block a few times.
I’d saved my climax for him and quickly learned this was a big mistake. He was very bad. We didn’t go for very long because I really wasn’t getting anything out of it. Finally, I stopped and rolled onto my back. I tossed yet another condom in the trash and started taking care of myself. He laid next to me and asked me to finish on his chest. I obliged his request, and he followed suit shortly after.
I knew he was going to be a lingerer. I tried to cut that off at the pass. I humored him for a short bit of time before I finally spoke up and said how I needed to get to bed. It was past 3:00am. It was time for him to go! He got the hint and got dressed. While he did so, he asked if we could hang out again while I was in town. He told me how much he enjoyed himself. I didn’t shoot him down, but I didn’t exactly give him the answer he was looking for. I told him I’d have to see what my schedule allowed for. I told him I was trying to get the most out of my vacation in L.A.
With that, I said goodbye, shut the door, showered all the men of the night away, and climbed into bed to dream about the sunny sandy beach I would be visiting the following day.
Superman Returns
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 30, 2012
Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.
I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.
I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.
He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!
We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.
We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.
We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!
We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.
When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.
He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.
We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.
After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.
Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”
Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.
This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.
He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.
We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?
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