Posts Tagged rain
On the night of July 3rd, CK and I slept at his apartment. I had a beach bag packed to head to Fire Island the following day. I insisted if we were going to trek all the way out there, we needed to leave early in the morning to get a full day of it. We also decided to make an effort to come back to the city in time to view the fireworks from his rooftop. We made plans with one of my old roommates and his girlfriend. They were going to join us on his roof since he had such spectacular views of the Hudson River.
When we woke, the weather didn’t look like it was going to be the most cooperative. We checked the report, and there was a threat of thunderstorms all day long. We both agreed to nix the idea of going to the beach and decided to stay local instead. We lounged around his apartment all morning, watching TV and eating a light breakfast, all the while waiting for the rain. When lunch time rolled around, I was anxious to get out of the apartment. It still hadn’t rained, and it was shaping up to be a pretty beautiful day. While we both agreed we could have gone to the beach, we also agreed not going was nice too.
Recently, I broached the subject with him of spending habits. I realized I was spending a lot more money, especially going out to dinner. I proposed a plan to try to cook more and go out less. I didn’t want to keep spending money frivolously, and thought he was probably in the same boat. The topic was well received, and we agreed to make and effort to spend less money.
As we walked to lunch, we made a plan to grab something small and cheap. We ran a few of CK’s errands before finding a spot to grab lunch — Uncle Nick’s, a Greek restaurant in HK. This was not part of the plan. Everything was a bit more expensive than a $5 sandwich. CK reminded me of our frugal conversation, and pointed out this place was not part of the plan. However, since all the portions were larger, I pointed out that this could serve as our dinner as well. We could take the leftovers home and eat them before the fireworks. It would work out nicely since we ate such a late lunch.
This worked out perfectly. We did swing by the grocery store to grab a few snacks for his rooftop to supplement our lunch/dinner. We grabbed chips, humus, cookies and supplies to make sangria. Before digging into making sangria, we decided to check out the scene on the roof. We wanted to know what we were getting ourselves into. CK lived in a large apartment building, and the roof certainly wasn’t going to hold all the residents, especially if they were bringing guests like me. Much to our surprise, it was still fairly sparse, but we knew that wouldn’t last long.
We quickly went downstairs to gather our things so we could lay claim to a prime fireworks viewing spot. As we made sangria, I reached out to two friends who were to be joining us, but they weren’t going to be able to make it. Looked like it was just going to be the two of us. That, and his roommate and the harem of friends he gathered for the night.
We made it back upstairs in time to lay out a blanket and enjoy a drink as the sun set. I was enjoying some quality time with my man before the crowd showed up. After some time, he had to run back downstairs. Of course, he disappeared for quite some time. I was sitting there alone trying to fend for our spot as more and more people arrived. Slowly but surely, his roommate and his friends started showing up. Of course, they assumed we were holding a spot for them, so I was surrounded by them on the blanket — Still no CK. This was not how I wanted to spend the night.
Finally, he came back. By then, the roof was fairly full. Shortly after, the fireworks began. Well, at least I think the fireworks began. CK’s roommate assured us the building had a prime view of the fireworks. He informed us he’d watched them from the roof the year before. LIES! All lies! We couldn’t see the fireworks at all. Immediately, there was both a mass movement forward toward the river to get a better view and a mass exodus out of the building to head to the river. CK and I tried to maneuver the roof to gain a better vantage point. When I turned around, he wasn’t following me.
In the chaos, I wasn’t able to find him again. I looked all over, standing on planters to see over the crowd. I tried calling him, but he wasn’t answering. I assumed he went downstairs, and to be honest, I was pissed. I assumed he abandoned me in an attempt to better view the fireworks. The elevators were overrun with people. I descended the twenty-five floors until I reached the ground floor. Because I didn’t have a building access card, I was a bit trapped. My only option was to walk back up to the top floor. I tried calling and calling, but still, CK was not picking up. When I got back to the roof, I managed to find CK. I explained what happened, and he explained how he was unable to find me. I was disappointed because the romantic night I was hoping for had gone to sh*t. This would be yet another fourth of disappointment. We had a fun day together, and I really enjoyed it. But, I wanted romantic fireworks with my man for our first Fourth of July together.
When the crowd thinned out, we managed to find a decent vantage point. Of course, we got b*tched out by a girl, who after investigation we learned was not a resident of the building. Although our night wasn’t quite as romantic as it could have been, another couple was having an incredibly romantic night. A man was proposing to his girlfriend via a presentation on his iPad. It was very touching and made me realize the night was a success just being with CK. I needed to stop thinking about the perfect picture I had in my head and just go with it.
When the fireworks ended, we made our way down to his apartment. The alcohol was flowing, among other things, and all his “roommates” were already home causing a raucous. When we moved into CK’s bedroom to escape the party a bit, it slowly but surely moved into the room as well. I wasn’t thrilled. Slowly but surely, they piled in, one by one. I inched my way further and further up the bed until I was sufficiently pressed against the wall to make room for more “roommates.”
That’s when it happened. I was so incredibly disappointed. CK and I discussed in detail how uncomfortable certain situations made me, and he breached that comfort level quite drastically. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I wanted to go home. I completely shut down. He made me so incredibly minuscule by ignoring the entire lengthy conversation we’d shared about this very subject. I wasn’t exactly being forthcoming about what made me so upset. The fact that he was so clueless about why I was so upset only made it worse. He actually thought I had cheated on him and didn’t know how to tell him. He couldn’t have been further off base.
I just wanted to leave, but I knew there was no way I would be able to make it home before the sun rose in the sky with all the crowds. Luckily, everyone began to file out of the room naturally. I laid there with my back to CK crying myself to sleep. He tried to comfort me and made excuses, but it was no use. The damage was done. He knew how I felt about this, and he selfishly did what he wanted anyway. This was not how someone treats you when they love you.
My head was spinning. Because I was worried I would have to let him go, the tears streamed more and more. I’d reached the last straw. I wasn’t ready to talk about it that night because I wanted a clear head when we talked about it for the last time. That night, we’d have to go to bed with tension in the air.
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Monday morning, after a long Pride Weekend, CK and I woke in my bed. As per usual, I woke to the feeling of his lips pressing against mine. It was raining outside, and all I wanted to do was cuddle with him for the rest of the day. That wasn’t an option. Bills had to be paid, so money had to be made. We got out of bed and went through our morning routine.
I liked our morning routine. We’d hop in the shower together while listening to music and talking about what we had on our plates for the day. It started out as something fun and sexual, but it really turned into a bonding moment for us every day. I looked forward to our shower chats. On days we were both struggling, we’d simply lather up next to each other not saying a word, simply exchanging periodic gentle kisses. I’ve also never had such a clean back as I did since we started this.
After we showered, we got dressed and ate breakfast while watching Chelsea Lately. This had also become a part of the morning routine. Either I’d make some breakfast with the wonderful help of my sous chef, or we’d each pour ourselves a bowl of Reese’s Puffs, Kellogg’s, or some other cereal.
That morning, I wouldn’t be able to ride the PATH with CK. I had an allergy shot, so I had to say goodbye to him in front of the doctor’s office in the rain. I began missing him almost immediately.
Later that day, we chatted while at work. Since he’s my boyfriend, he knows all about the blog and is an avid readers. This particular day, he enjoyed the blog but had some critiques to deliver as well.
It was turning out to be the new norm for us. This was a typical day. When I finished work, I went to his place to spend the night. We were going to make dinner together, but he was constantly distracted by the television. I liked when making dinner was a team effort. I resented it a lot less. I pointed this out to him, but deep down I’d come to accept this about him. Cooking wasn’t his strong suit — It was mine. Whenever I made food for him, he greatly appreciated it, so in turn, I appreciated making it for him. I just didn’t want it to become my duty.
After our discussion, he came back to helping me while we both chatted with his new roommate who was sitting on the couch. I liked the new guy. He was very sane and likable, which is more than I could say for some of his other “roommates.” There was always a slew of people there, and they were quite the cast of characters. This guy was very normal and easy to have an intelligent conversation with.
Once dinner was prepared, we ate while watching TV and went to bed. I have always shot to be in bed around 11:30. As I get older, I find I need closer to eight hours of sleep. CK, on the other hand, had a harder time falling asleep at that hour. He needed a book or to watch Rachel Maddow or Game of Thrones on his iPad to fall asleep.
Our routine continued. Tuesdays after work, we went to yoga in the park. After yoga, we’d try to catch a free movie using my friends’ movie passes. Some nights we’d stay in and cook, and other nights, we’d have food delivered or burn up a Groupon or Living Social.
Some mornings we’d fool around before work, and sometimes, we’d have our romp between the sheets before bedtime. However, no matter what time it occurred, it was always great. Sure, we weren’t having sex as often as we did the first month we were together, but that certainly doesn’t mean it was lacking or of any lesser quality by any stretch of the imagination.
One night when he wasn’t feeling 100% and mentioned going to the doctor, I offered to go with him. As we discussed it, I began to tear up a bit. I started thinking about domestic partnership, and I got a little choked up and began to tear up. I never loved anyone before, but I truly loved this man. The thought of something serious happening to him and not being able to be with him because of legalities rocked me quite a bit. He consoled me in the way he does when I get overly emotional, and everything was fine again.
We slept together almost every night, whether in my bed or his, and woke up feeling secure and happy knowing the other was inches away. I found it hard to sleep when he wasn’t sleeping next to me. Some mornings, it was a real treat for me because I got to wake him up with a kiss.
It’s funny to write this and realize how much we sound like an old married couple. We found a routine and got very comfortable together. If it weren’t for things like circuit parties the weekend before, I’d say we may have become a very boring couple, however, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Of course it was fun when we hung out with my friend and his friends, but nothing made me happier than just hanging out with my man. I loved him dearly, and he was everything I needed.
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CK and I were about to hit our two-month mark. It was two of the best months of my life, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I learned I could truly find love in a man, and slowly but surely, I started to give more and more of myself to him. The wall I built up around my heart was not only cracking but also crumbling. There were a handful of guys in my past I had come to enjoy the extended company of beyond a hookup, but CK was the first man I ever really came to love.
My life was no longer my life. There was no longer a me. It became our life and us. I stopped making plans for one. CK was front and center in my thoughts at all times. We were living together in two homes. We were dining together, drinking together, taking trips together, etc.
CK’s move to an apartment with roommates allowed him a new cashflow he hadn’t had before, however, I was trying to prevent us from blowing that on going out to dinner in the New York City. It’s not cheap, and if we were going to build a life together, he needed to start saving. I wasn’t thrilled with spending all that money going out to eat either. It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford it, but we felt it was a bit of a waste. When I was living on my own, I made dinner for myself almost every night. Going out to dinner felt like a luxury and a treat. I wanted to get back to that. We both agreed to live more economically wherever possible. Since CK isn’t the biggest cook, I even started making food and taking it to his apartment so we could have convenient meals prepared. For instance, one night after work, we grabbed some groceries and thawed the frozen spaghetti sauce I made for dinner. We cooked together in the kitchen and ate in front of his TV. It was nice, it was cheap and it was delicious. That meal cost us pennies compared to what we’d spend going out to an Italian restaurant. We were also taking advantage of Groupons and Living Socials whenever possible so on the nights we didn’t feel like cooking, we could grab a nice dinner out and not pay full price.
As a gay man, I’m not quite as mirror conscious as some, but I am a bit vain in some aspects. I love how I look with a great tan, and I love it even more when my hair has a bit of depth and volume. Sadly, a few years ago, my hairline started receding. There was little I could do to prevent it, so I did what I could to mask it. That meant getting my haircut in a certain style, but it also meant highlighting it so it wasn’t one solid color against my scalp. This is one of my few gay vices.
Since I was in junior high, I stopped going to my father’s barber and started going to my mother’s hair stylist. Granted, since moving away from home, I didn’t go home every time I needed a haircut, but I did make it a point to go home and get it highlighted periodically throughout the year.
My hair got naturally lighter in the summer, so before the sun worked its magic, I would always try to trek home for some carmel colored highlights. My hair stylist was a magician. He never measured, but he always got my color just right. The one time I was left under the heat too long, everything slid to the back of the cap, bleaching the back of my head. He managed to dye my hair back to it’s natural color. You couldn’t tell anything went wrong.
My hair stylist also charges me a measly $30 for the highlights and the cut. Granted it’s in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, but it would cost more over $100 to have this done in New York City. Whenever I get my hair cut by someone in the metro area, they ask about the highlights. They compliment them, and I get a big kick out of telling them how much I paid for them — Their jaws hit the floor.
It was particularly difficult to get home before the summer sun this year. My sister wasn’t being cooperative about trips home, so I had to plan something on my own. That meant hopping on the motorcycle and making the two-hour trek home (costing me $10 in gas). I didn’t want to give up my weekend because that was when I went to the beach with my boyfriend, but it was nearly impossible to get away during the week. On top of this, it had to be planned around nice weather. I couldn’t make the trip home if rain was in the forecast.
Summer was passing by, so I decided to take off a half day from work to get it done. After work Wednesday evening, I sped home trying to avoid traffic and made it to my parents’ house just before the sun went down. I found it very sweet that CK was worried about me. He was very concerned with my safety, even after riding with me on the bike many times. I was truly touched. I told him when I was heading home, and I texted him as soon as I got to my parents’ place. I told him it would take roughly two hours, and he was texting me worried after about an hour and a half. It showed me how much he truly cared about me and how much he loved me. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you babe!” he said.
CK was against the trip from the onset. He didn’t like the idea of me getting highlights, but I told him to have faith. He’d seen pictures of me in the summer and commented how good I looked. I promised him I wouldn’t come back looking like an a$$hole. I think he thought I was getting my tips frosted.
It was also nice to catch up with my parents and have a relaxing night in front of the TV with a home-cooked meal. The next morning, I woke at the crack of dawn to hit up the salon. In an hours time, I looked like a new man, and I was back on the road. I had to get back to work by mid-afternoon.
That night, CK saw me for the first time in person, after asking me to send pictures to his phone. He commented on how good I looked. “Babe, I was really worried. I thought you were going to look ridiculous,” he added. I gave him a big kiss and reminded him how I knew what I was doing, cheekily.
Even if I came back looking ridiculous, I’m sure he would have played along and told me I looked fine. We were in love, and my hair wasn’t going to change that. On the flip-side, I think the highlights worked a little magic and made me more attractive to him because, after being away from each other for a night, we had some great passionate sex before dozing off.
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Before going to bed Friday night, CK and I made plans to go to the beach the following day. The weather was supposed to be gorgeous, and I hadn’t made it to the beach yet this year. I was very excited to go, but I also knew it would be a bit up an uphill struggle to get CK and his friends coordinated for a train ride to the beach in a timely manner.
We spent the night at his place thinking it would cut down on commute time in the morning. I was already packed and ready to go the night before because I had to bring all my things into the city in anticipation of going. My plan was to wake up, shower and go. That plan would not come to fruition. It was very difficult not only getting CK out of bed, but also getting him to move once I got him up. We ended up leaving his apartment late and came to the realization we would not make the train we originally planned. It also didn’t help that I told his two friends to meet us on the wrong corner, but when we tried to reach both of them, neither picked up their phones.
When we finally all gathered, we realized we’d have to take the next train in 45 min. I felt bad because I knew how much of a stickler for time one of CK’s friends was. I bought our tickets, and we decided to find a nearby spot to grab breakfast. One of his friends offered to pay for mine since I bought the tickets. I found it ironic because he was normally he was also a stickler for numbers when it came to payments, and I didn’t see how he would be buying me $30 worth of breakfast. However, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make it a thing.
We finished our breakfast and made our way to the train. The four of us found seats and relaxed for the ride out there. It was then I noticed, only by contrast, how affectionate CK and I were.
When we got to Long Beach, we made a pit stop at Starbucks and a drugstore to buy beach tickets before heading to the sand. We met up with my sister and one of my previous female roommates. I introduced everyone and we laid out in the sun. CK and one of his friends had square-cut suits on, and his other friend and I had on short board shorts. Because of this, I wonder if my sister was slightly uncomfortable. This wasn’t something she was used to. Periodically, I would wear my square-cut bathing suit from my days of college swimming, but I didn’t walk around in it. I only laid out in the sun in it, and this still brought comments from her. I bring this up because she basically didn’t talk to the four of us the entire day. She’s a little antisocial by nature, but never quite to this extent.
We had a nice relaxing day, taking pictures and making videos in the sun. When CK and I got bored, I decided to try to teach him paddle ball. I always liked playing because I get beach ADD. While we were playing, dark clouds started to roll in. We weren’t at the beach three hours when the other two guys were ready to go home. I don’t think they liked the scene because it wasn’t “gay enough” for them. On top of this, my sister wasn’t exactly chatting them up while CK and I played. We were summoned back to the blanket so we could pack up and head home. I felt it was a bit of a waste of a day, but I these were CK’s friends. I didn’t want to make a bad impression by disagreeing with their plans.
We found a bar so some of the group could use the facilities. While we waited, I ordered myself, CK and one of his friends a drink. When we finished, we made our way back to the train station. When we got back to the city, we split ways. I felt there was a bit of tension in the air, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. So, when the time came to split, it felt like a bit of relief. Had I done something wrong? Did his friend simply not like me? Who knew?
On the walk back to CK’s apartment, we stopped in the comic book store. Just then, the sky opened up and started pouring. At least we were indoors, so we poked around the comic book store until the storm lifted. We grabbed a slice of pizza to share to hold us over for dinner, we showered, and we had sex.
After laying in his bed most of the evening, the time came for us to head back to Hoboken to grab dinner. I had a Groupon I planned to use up. This was our new economical way of going out to dinner on a budget. It was around 10:30, so I called the place to make sure they were still serving dinner. We made our way back to the train to Hoboken to spend the rest of the night…
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Some of the strongest bonds you make in life are those shared with the coworkers you meet at your first job out of college. I remember my first week meeting one of the account directors who managed new business pitches. She was tall, gorgeous, fit, sassy as all hell and certainly knew how to dress to accentuate her sexiness.
From day one, she treated me like a kid — Like an intern. But, when I threw the sass right back at her, she elevated me in her mind to her equal and commented how we’d be good friends. I found her incredibly sexy and even had a small crush on her for some time. We continued to work together for a few years before I moved on to another agency, however, that didn’t mean we fell out of touch. Granted we saw far less of each other, but we still managed to find time to catch up either online or in person.
Since then, she’s left that agency and now works for a major radio broadcasting company. We’d been trying to meet up for cocktails after work for some time when she realized it would be really easy if she invited me to one of their concerts. She’d still be “on the clock,” but we’d get to hang and chat while taking in some awesome tunes. She sent me the calendar of upcoming performers and told me to pick a night.
We set plans to grab a quick drink before the Train concert so I could tell her all about my new man, CK. I marked my calendar, and as the date approached, I became more and more excited.
Then, days before the small venue concert, she told me to bring my man with me, however, there was a small change of plans. She apologized and told me she had to meet with clients, so she wouldn’t be able to grab a drink beforehand, but we could all go out after the show. “Sounds like a plan,” I replied.
That day, CK left work early and made his way home to change and drop off his bag. He met me outside my office, and we took the subway downtown to the venue. It was raining, so that didn’t help as we were trying to figure out where to go under an umbrella. We arrived just in time. I wasn’t able to find my friend, but soon enough, she found us seconds before the show started. She took us to the VIP section, and we settled in.
It was so good to see her. It’d been months since I’d seen her last, and she looked better than ever. Seeing her brought back a lot memories. We’d grown close over the two years we worked together. I came out after leaving the agency we worked at, and she was one of the people I decided to tell early on. She has a gay brother, so I knew she would be more than supportive. I had already talked to her quite a bit about CK, and she was thrilled with my new-found happiness.
As the concert began, my friend had to return to her clients to ensure they were thoroughly entertained. CK and I enjoyed each other’s company while we danced and bopped to the music. I was quite familiar with Train, but he wasn’t and neither was my friend. They both kept saying throughout the concert, “I had no idea this was Train!”
Let me tell you, they put on a good show. They audience was not the least bit energetic, which I’m sure is incredibly hard to perform for, but they did a stellar job! I spent most of the concert with my arms wrapped around CK from behind hugging him as we listened to the music swaying back-and-forth. We were being quite affectionate without making a spectacle of ourselves.
Afterwards, we all made our way to a little bar called The Macao Trading Co. We ventured downstairs, and the five of us cozied up to the bar for some cocktails and tapas plates. I felt a little awkward because I didn’t want to steal my friend away from her clients. I knew she had a job to do, and I didn’t want to interfere. But, I also knew, she wouldn’t neglect CK and I. She is a brilliant multi-tasker, I chatted a bit with one of the women on the walk to the bar, and we bonded when I learned we shared a common coworker/ex-coworker.
My friend ordered the group food and drinks to keep our bellies full and our spirits high. The food was AMAZING! I had a taste of everything, and loved/savored every bite! If you ever find yourself there, definitely be sure to try the mushroom and truffel croquettes. They are like heaven in your mouth!
When the two women were ready to call it a night, they said goodbye to my friend and made their way home. Finally, we could sit and relax and chat up a storm. CK and I were being affectionate, with my hand on his leg most of the night, but again, not drawing attention. I liked that about him. We could show we loved each other publicly without going over the top. It was interesting seeing him a bit on the quieter side. He’d met other friends before, but this time he was a bit quiet. When my friend started asking him more and more questioned, he opened right up, and they hit it off.
When CK excused himself to go to the restroom, of course we took the time to talk about him. She said, “I love him. I’d hang out with him outside you, and that’s saying a lot! He’s amazing!” I agreed with her and told her how amazing he really is. When I started to explain how well we hit it off and the conversations we’d had about our future, the smile on her face grew bigger and bigger.
It was amazing the information we covered while CK was in the bathroom. He was only gone about two minutes, but I managed to squeeze in so much gushing about him. As CK returned to the table, we were just turning the conversation to my friend’s love life. Apparently, she too found a man to make her happy. They’d been together for some time. I’d never see her so gaga for anyone before. She is a very powerful, successful, strong, beautiful woman who would intimidate the sh*t out of any man. Finally, she found a man who realized what he found and treated her right, all the while holding her attention. I was incredibly happy for her.
Not only were all three of us in love, but we were all at a bit of a crossroads in our careers. We were all faced with the decision to stay on our current path or shake things up and create a new path for ourselves. We all discussed our happiness with our current jobs, but fully discussed our lack of momentum and fulfillment in them. My friend told me I am too smart for my job gave both CK and I great career advice.
When the night was getting late, my friend was incredibly kind and picked up the entire tab. We went outside with our umbrellas, and she offered to share a cab with us. We rode north to CK’s apartment to settle in for the night. When we got out, I gave my friend a hug and said goodbye.
We got ready to go to bed, but not before fooling around a bit. We also talked about my friend, and he commented how much he liked her. I told him what she said while he was in the bathroom, and a smile lit up his face.
I was truly in love with this man. He meant so much to me. I had no problem picturing myself spending the rest of my life with him. I could imagine it all. No guy had ever treated me this way before. No guy put up with my sh*t like he did either. He was something special, and I realized this. So much so, I simply looked forward to spending more and more time with him, if not the rest of my life.
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Sunday, I made plans with my Superman — My Clark Kent. I was very excited and could hardly wait.
I barely knew him, but I could already tell we were quite a match. On top of that, we weren’t even done the first date before he planned to see me again. It was his suggestion for us to catch The Hunger Games Saturday morning while we had breakfast.
I texted him and invited him to come over to Hoboken. We would take the motorcycle out for a ride before the movie. I ran a lot of errands that morning in anticipation of his arrival later in the afternoon. As the day progressed, the weather looked like it would cooperate less and less. The sky was covered with clouds and the wind picked up significantly. It looked like it would rain any minute.
I texted CK and suggested we hold off on the ride, and I just come into the city to see the movie. It would make things less complicated, and it would give him something to look forward to in the future.

He agreed with the new plan. I met him at his apartment with plenty of time to catch the movie. He suggested we hit up the rooftop since I didn’t get to see it the first time I was there. How could I say no to that? When I got to his apartment, we went directly up to the roof. We spent time checking out the sights, cuddling and taking pictures like we’ve been a couple for a year already. I was crushing hard!
We sat and talked, and he suggested we catch a later showing so we could relax and not have to rush to the theater. I wasn’t going to object to anything at this point. I was so happy. I was just going to go with the flow.
We finally made our way to the theater. He insisted on buying my ticket. I protested since there was no reason I couldn’t pay for myself, but he continued to insist. He wanted this to be his treat. I relented, but was sure to pick up the tab for the pretzel bites and soda.
We made our way into the theater and got great seats. Almost immediately, the PDA began between us. It wasn’t gag yourself PDA. We were simply holding hands or caressing each other’s arms. It was my kind of PDA. I was quite enjoying myself!
When the movie was over, we made our way to the street and discussed the film while we walked. This was his second time seeing the movie. He expressed interest in reading the book, and I strongly encourage him to. I was already part of the way through the second book in the series of three.
We held hands while we walked and at times put our arms around each other. I could hear a lot of people making comments, and some even began to shout or hoot and holler at us. A few of the comments were jeers and a few were shouts of support. This was not something I was used to, but it was something I would have to learn to shrug off. I’d walked through the city being affectionate with other guys before, but it never gathered this type of reaction. At one point, CK acknowledged the comments, asking, “Are they still honking at us?” I told him I thought so, and we kept walking. Frankly, I was a little surprised by it all. We were in midtown west — Smack dab between Chelsea and HK, two of the gayest neighborhoods in NYC. I had a feeling a lot of the commenters were out-of-towners, and many of them were young guys.
When we got away from the crowds, he commented how he liked how I was into the hand holding. “Not all guys are into it. I’m glad you like it,” he added. I told him I liked little signs of affection, but I wasn’t into the far more obvious public displays. I told him I’m not much for making out in public.
He also mentioned the idea that had we planned better, I could have brought clothes to wear to work the next day and spent the night, however, he was happy we weren’t taking things for granted. He was happy with the pace of things, even though he wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing his bed with me.
We stopped by Pinkberry on the way back to his rooftop as per his request. We ordered ice cream and shared spoonfuls with each other as we walked up the street. When we got back to his place, we headed straight to the roof.
We laid on one of the outdoor couches together and got comfortable while we ate our ice cream. We talked for a while before we ended up making out. Things stepped up to the next level when he undid my belt and began orally pleasuring me with one eye on the door. It was risky but I wasn’t fully exposed. I liked his passion and excitement. I’d finally met my match in terms of a decent, normal guy with a healthy sexual appetite.
After some time, he asked, “You wanna continue this downstairs in my apartment?” I told him I was totally game, and we descended the stairs.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It wasn’t long before we were both naked in his bed. There was significant foreplay before he asked if I wanted to penetrate him. I was completely engulfed in our passionate romp and nodded my head in definitive agreement. “Yes! Like no other!” I added.
Then, I’m not sure how things switched so quickly, but as I was grinding on his backside, and stopped to put on a condom, he turned to me and said, “Can I f*ck you?” A long time ago, I made a rule for myself I would not bottom for a guy unless we were in a relationship. It wasn’t something I really enjoyed, so only special guys would receive the privilege. I had very strong feelings for him. I wanted to share something special with him already. I could hear A’s voice in my head telling me no sex until the third date, but that voice in my head was no comparison to the passion of my other head. After all that thinking, I said, “Yes.”
Like that, he started making out with me, and he had me on my back. While we were making out, I set the open condom down on the bed. He was already putting it on. I thought he was going to top me after I topped him. I didn’t realize I was giving up my position first. I was a little disappointed, but I let it happen anyway.
I told him it was a very long time for me since any guy had been inside me. I told him he’d have to go VERY slow. He began to slide in when I gripped his leg and implored him to stop. He told me to relax and just hold it there, but I insisted he pull out. I needed a break before we could continue. I know he thought it would be better if he simply held it there, but I was being painfully stretched. He wasn’t exactly a small guy — Quite the opposite. He pulled out, and I could see the disappointment on his face. He thought that was it, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I just needed a second to relax again. He began kissing me in a caring way. It was as if it was his way of saying, “I never want to hurt you again.” When I regain composure, I directed him to begin again. Delight spread across his face at this news.
This time was much easier. He slid in with no problem, and began gyrating. It’d been some time since my prostate was stimulated like that, so part of it was discomfort and part was unexplainable pleasure. I never finish from bottoming, but I always have a full-body experience. I rarely can walk afterwards — Not because I’m so sore but more so because my legs go limp.
He continued until he was close, pulled out, ripped off the condom and shot all over my chest. It was very hot to watch him explode with gratification. He expressed how great everything felt, and we both laid there incapacitated. He told me how awesome he thought it was that I would flip so readily and let him top me. I told him I thought it was the best way for any healthy relationship. Both partners get to experience it all. Even though I didn’t always enjoy bottoming, I found it to be the ideal situation.
We cuddled for hours after that. We even dozed off for a period. When I woke, it was two am. I checked the schedule for the next PATH and made sure I was on it at 2:30. I said goodbye to him with a very passionate kiss, and we talked about when we’d get to see each other next. It was clear I couldn’t get enough of him. Now, the question was, did he feel the same way about me?
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I had a Friday to myself, and I wasted it on hookups. I could have been doing something productive like going to the gym or grocery shopping, but instead, I spent the day inside trying to line up sex.
There was one man in particular who I’d exchanged messages with on adam4adam.com. He was a well-built guy with a sexy body. He had a nice amount of body hair, great muscles and a spectacular behind. We’d talked about hooking up a few times, but we’d never seemed to line our schedules up. I messaged him, but he didn’t respond.
I continued to search for other guys on the computer when he finally responded. He didn’t read my message until it was too late. We exchanged phone numbers, and he called and told me he had a lot of errands to run before his mother’s birthday the following day. He wasn’t able to see me until later, but suggested we Skype in the meantime. I had nothing to do, so I agreed.
He was even good-looking with bed head on the computer. I couldn’t imagine how sexy he was in person. Seeing him on the computer was just making me hornier, if that’s even possible. I tried so hard to convince him to come by before his errands and do them later. All he needed to do was time-shift his day. He kept telling me the only way it would work is if I came to his apartment. I couldn’t because it was raining, and I don’t ride the motorcycle in the rain. We pushed back and forth for some time to no avail. Of course there was some teasing with body parts on camera while all this was going on. I couldn’t wait to feel his sexy body. Alas, he had to go, so I said goodbye and we made tentative plans for later. I told him when I came by, he’d certainly have to wear his jockstrap for me. He gave me a disclaimer. He was up for almost anything, but he was not up for full penetration the first time meeting me. I was a little disappointed, but understandable.
That’s when I turned to the Mexican guy in the previous post. He was willing to come by right then, and I needed a release. I had immediate regret after that encounter.
Later in the day, my old roommate texted and asked if I was interested in meeting up for happy hour. After being cooped up in my apartment all day, I thought that sounded like a spectacular idea. No one ever invites me out for drinks either. It’s usually me doing the inviting, so it was a special treat. I texted the burly man from my morning Skype session to tell him I’d have to postpone. He called immediately protesting. I told him other things came up, and I wouldn’t be able to come by. He didn’t stop persisting to try to persuade me otherwise. I told him he could have solved the whole thing had he come by earlier in the day.
The clock reached 6:00, and I hadn’t heard from my old roommate. I reached out to burly man to see if he was still available. Indeed he was. I agreed to come to his place a few miles from my apartment. He told me he would be waiting for me in bed wearing nothing but a jock and would leave the door unlocked for me to just walk in.
I drove over there and texted him when I got to his neighborhood. I tried the door, but it was locked. I called him to tell him, and he said his upstairs renter must have left and locked the door behind him. He told me to back away so he could unlock the door. I did as I was told and gave him a minute to get back to his bed.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I came in, undressed down to my boxer briefs and began kissing his back while pressing my body against his. It was as great as I imagined. His a$$ looked incredible in that jockstrap! I could barely resist him. We had a lot of fun together. There was a lot of groping, heavy petting, kissing, sucking, licking, biting, rubbing, etc. It was great. I was really enjoying the jockstrap as well. I was grinding on his backside, almost penetrating him, but never fully entering him. He really enjoyed it and was pushing me further, but in the end, he stopped himself.
He was begging for me to finish, and he brought me to the edge many times. He started orally pleasuring me. He thoroughly enjoyed this, and it was turning me on since he was enjoying it so much. Eventually, I finished in his mouth and all over my abdomen, and he loved it. He began to use his hand to pleasure himself. I helped by applying pressure to different areas until he finished all over his abdomen. We’d chatted about how each of us shoots on Skype, and it was interesting how different and how similar we were. His description was pretty spot on for what actually happened.
We both just laid there a minute and enjoyed the feeling pulsing through our bodies. I still couldn’t get over how amazing his a$$ was. I wanted to penetrate him so bad, but I knew that would have to wait for another day. He hopped out of bed and handed me a towel to clean up. While I stood there, I met two of his cats. They were very cool. This guy was quite into animals. He had a huge saltwater fish tank as well. He ran to the restroom while I got dressed. I also took the opportunity to snap two pictures. He came back and got dressed as well.
He walked me outside and chatted a bit while he smoked a cigarette. He didn’t live in the best of neighborhoods. An old woman so strung out on something walked by, and he engaged her in conversation for quite some time before finally offering her one of his cigarettes and sending her on her way. He told me about how his mother lived next door and his family’s ties with the city. He was a really nice guy. I could see myself seeing this guy again some time. He told me he was also kinda seeing some guy, but it was very casual and nothing serious. He mentioned the desire to see me again sometime, but we didn’t set up anything concrete.
I sped off on the motorcycle back home to shower and get ready to go out and meet up with friends. The only friend interested in going out was P. We agreed to hit up one of my favorite local spots where I know the owner, and he takes good care of me, Cooper’s Union in Hoboken. We had a relaxing night drinking and sitting at the bar. I told her about how I was getting out of control, and it was then I decided I was going on a Grindr diet. This had gone on far too long. I was realistic enough to know I couldn’t quit it cold turkey, but I also knew it was a great temptation for me. I was going to try to steer clear. I would only go on to see if someone messaged me. I would no longer cast out a net and would no longer have it running on my phone all day. I needed a break. I was addicted, and it was time for me to ween myself off the drug…
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Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!
Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!
Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

On Friday, my last night in San Francisco, I made plans with Swinging D*ck to come to my hotel. We talked about grabbing dinner before staying in for the night. However, he casually invited me to come out with him and his friends when he realized he had to go out for a friend’s birthday. I was apprehensive since it was a torrential downpour outside. It hadn’t rained for three months prior, but now it was raining for three straight days. This trip was turning out to be an epic fail.
I graciously accepted his invitation and waited for his call to tell me where to meet them. Hours passed, and I didn’t hear from him. I was all dressed up with nowhere to go. I decided to run out to grab dinner at In-and-Out when dinnertime passed by. That’s when I finally got a text. He told me they were going to Lookout in a bit. He would text me when they were leaving, and I could meet them there.
I ate my burger in my hotel room and made my way outside to hail a cab. Luckily I wasn’t out in the rain too long.
When I arrived, I made my way to the second story bar and began looking for him. After two minutes, and noticing a lot of men scoping me out, I found him in the crowd on the other side of the bar. I walked over and said hi with a big hug. He introduced me to his friends. They were all very nice. I wasn’t sure exactly how much they knew about me.

I ordered a beer before I was told we would be moving on for the night. It was back out into the rain. Apparently, we were headed to a house party for the remainder of the night but not before popping into a liquor store for some beer. We hopped in a cab and made our way to the party.
It was slightly awkward because I was now a friend of a friend of the host. I was hoping everyone would be okay with my attendance. Luckily, only the entrance was slightly awkward. After that, I was in my element. I talked with my friend, his friend, and many other men at the party. It was the biggest sausage fest I’d ever been too. I think there may have been two women there versus the fifty gay men.

I met some interesting people and one very sexy man who looked a lot like Steve Pasquale (Sean Garrity) from Rescue Me. Swinging D*ck is a smoker, and when I drink I’ve been known to smoke the occasional cigarette, so those were nice breaks where we somewhat stepped away from the group and could talk more. He really was a sweet, intelligent guy. I learned a lot about him talking to him on Skype, and I only wanted to get to know more.
The night was beginning to draw to a close. For one, I had a flight to catch in the morning. Secondly, the birthday boy/host was ready to hit up the bars. Everyone was getting kicked out. S.D. told me he had to tell me something when we got outside. We walked away from the party to find a bodega to get him cigarettes. As we did, he took the opportunity to confide a big secret he’d been walking around with.
He pointed out to me how standoffish he was the previous night, how he had to leave early and how he changed plans from coming to my hotel that night. Then he told me all this wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to me — Quite the opposite. The reason was because he was HIV positive.
My heart immediately sank, and not in a selfish way. The compassion I felt for him in that moment was so great, I can’t even begin to explain.
Apparently I know very little about HIV. He told me he’d been “positive undetectable” for a year and a half now. I never heard that term before, but deduced its meaning from its name. I also did the math in my head and realized he contacted it just after he started talking to me on Skype. I put two and two together and realized that’s why he was so depressed when I was talking to him. My heart was breaking for him.
He explained that he is on medication, and the doctor told him he would lead a very normal and full life for the remainder of his time on this planet. I was learning a lot about the treatment for HIV. I realized I needed some education, and I was happy I had someone so amazing to teach me.
A large part of me wanted to cry and give him a big hug because I couldn’t imagine what he was going through all this time since being diagnosed. The larger part of me was upset because he felt he couldn’t just tell me outright from the start.
He didn’t know how to tell me, nor did he want to. He thought I would treat him differently or stop being his friend. I told him he needed to give me more credit than that. He was an amazing guy, and nothing changed between us.
He started to explain his strange behaviors I wasn’t even noticing. When I asked him back to my room, he was very leery because of what might happen, but he still wanted to be with me. So, he agreed. When we were fooling around, he said he was purposely taking more time to please me so I wouldn’t even have a chance to please him. When I went for it, that’s when he really said he had to get going. It wasn’t because he wasn’t attracted to me. It wasn’t because he didn’t like me. “I think you’re amazing,” he added. It was because he was scared. I understood completely.
When I asked him to come to my room a second night, he talked to his friend about it. “I don’t know if I can tell him,” he told his friend. His friend told him to do whatever he felt comfortable with. He actually invited me to come out with them that night in an attempt to set me up with his friend. Looking back, I did feel as if I was being sized up as the night progressed. However, I was not feeling him in the slightest.
When we were at the party, he encouraged me to go with the guys who asked me to come with them for some fun because it would get him off the hook. I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in them either, however their compliments were always welcome. 🙂
I never noticed all this, but I jokingly reprimanded him for going through all those charades instead of just telling me as a friend. Of course I would understand. I told him about all my skeletons. I would have hoped he’d feel comfortable telling me his.
We continued to walk to the bar everyone was heading to. He told me about how he contracted it and how bad the situation was. He admitted that’s why he was so depressed when I first started talking to him. It all made sense now.
When we arrived at the bar, it was time for me to say goodbye. I had an early flight, and it was already two in the morning. We talked a little bit more, gave each other a big hug, and made out a little bit. It was hard saying goodbye. I felt we had so much more to talk about. But I needed to go. We kept coming back for just one more kiss before we finally parted ways.
As I walked towards my hotel searching for a cab, I thought about what just happened. My heart was still breaking for him that he had to go through that. I wish I’d known sooner so I could have been there more for him. I was so proud of him for finally finding the courage to tell me. I was starting to think he just wasn’t into me a little bit, but that’s not important. What is important is that I have a friend I love dearly and will always be there for, no matter what happened to him. I just hope he knows that!
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Still thrilled about a spectacular weekend with Smiles, I began a new week.
Monday passed by without me seeing Smiles again. I did speak to him however. We spoke while I walked home from work. He still had a migraine, and I tried to console him. I wished there was something I could do for him, but I was powerless.
He had a work event that evening, so he soldiered on. His migraine was lessened, but he still wasn’t 100%. I knew it was going to be a long night for him.
He called when the event was over to say hi and check in on me. I always relish his phone calls just to say hi and ask me about my day.
I explained to him I was watching the first Twilight movie. It happened to be on TV that night, so I made it a point to watch in an attempt to catch up to the current day release of Twilight: Breaking Dawn pt. 1. I was also able to find the second and third installments in the series on the guide over the next few days. Smiles seemed excited to see the movie, so I was putting in the effort to get onboard. I have to say, they’re certainly not amazing cinema, they’re not unbearable either.
I asked him to wait to see the movie together in the theater. He agreed. After talking about the series, he realized he’d never see the third installment, Twilight: Eclipse. I told him I would keep it on my DVR, and we could watch it together before hitting up the newest in the theater.
We were also coming up on Thanksgiving. I struggled with the thought of inviting him to come home with me. He is from and his family is still in Florida. I knew he wasn’t planning to go home, but I wasn’t sure if he’d have other plans. The thought of inviting him came from numerous places. I felt we were comfortable with each other, and I knew he would stand well with my family. He was very good at getting along with strangers, and I knew he could win them over, especially since this would be the first time they’d learn about my homosexuality. I knew it would have been a little early in our relationship to ask him to come home with me, and this is the main reason why I didn’t. I didn’t want him to think I was a little psycho.

In the meantime, I learned he finally did make plans for Thanksgiving. He was going to a few friends’ homes out on Long Island in the Hamptons and on Fire Island. I was happy he found some special people to spend the holiday with, but was a little disappointed I wouldn’t be spending it with him.
Before I went home, and he split for Long Island, I wanted to see him again. I suggested we grab coffee or something quick because I knew he would be quite busy with work leading up to our departures on Wednesday. He told me we’d have to play it by ear, but he would make a concerted effort to work it out.
I was worried I wasn’t going to see him before the long holiday weekend. We’d spent other weekends apart, so this shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but to me it was. I wasn’t spending the holiday with him, so I wanted the next best thing.
Tuesday evening I had a dermatologist appointment to have an ingrown hair taken care of. We were going to attempt to meet after as long as time allowed for it in his schedule.
It turned out he was able to meet. In the rain, I made my way to Lyon to grab a drink with him before he was going out to dinner with business colleagues who were in town for the week.
This was the first time I’d see him following a workday in which he interacted with clients. He looked very smart and super cute. It was all I could do to keep my hands off him. He was happy to see me, but I could tell he was pretty exhausted from a long day. We ordered some small dishes because I was ready for dinner, and his dinner wasn’t until 10:00 or 11:00. The conversation was nice, and we discussed our plans for the weekend. He also expressed concern for the incision on my abdomen from the dermatologist. When we finished, we paid the bill and began to walk towards the PATH/his subway.
We popped into a fun travel amenities shop to check out some of the cool things we noticed in the front window.
We walked a little further and reached his subway. He began to descend the staircase, and I called after him to explain I wouldn’t be joining him since it didn’t take me near the PATH. He walked back up a few steps and gave me a quick kiss as he said goodbye.
It was very unceremonious and not very romantic, but I decided to concentrate on the fact that I got to spend time with him at all before he left.
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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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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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