Posts Tagged realistic

Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself

It had arrived. Although this would be my third year “participating,” I was legitimately scared. I wasn’t sure why it was so scary, but honestly, I was petrified for so many reasons.

My first interaction with Pride Weekend was a mistake. I was making my way to Governor’s Island for a polo match with my family when we found ourselves “stuck” in the parade route. The following year was the first year I was out when the weekend came around. It wasn’t pleasant as I witnessed my relationship crumble before my eyes like an out-of-body experience. I missed the parade that year, but I got a sampling of the other aspects of the festivities.

My fear was grounded mainly in the unknown. While I am a gay man, I do not participate in the typical gay culture. I’ve never been a big fan of gay clubs and what goes on there. I come from a background of a traditional relationship. In the gay world, that is like finding a diamond in the rough. The clubs seem to be the antithesis of this. They are a hot-bed of drugs, promiscuity and raunchy behavior. I know all gay men who go to bars don’t fit into this stereotype, but this stereotype is founded in truth. While I’ve been to a handful of gay clubs, and my comfort level was rising, I still had no idea what to expect. Never before had I been to a circuit party. I was venturing into the abyss, and this caused me incredible anxiety.

While I have learned to let go of the men in my past, I still carry the scars of my relationship with them. They’ve all hurt or used me in some way, shape or form. My biggest fear in life is being alone, and this fear is fed by thoughts of cheating, which is birthed from my baggage. The idea of CK with another man broke my heart. I had clear definitions of cheating, but there were worse things floating through my imagination — Like cheating in a form I feel is unfaithful, but the offender does not.

My relationship with CK was building a great foundation, however, the cement was still wet. We were only dating two months and ten days — Very young for any relationship. In the first month, I had strong suspicions I wasn’t the only man entering his bed. Things didn’t always line up and some of the clear indications were there, however, our relationship was still just forming. I knew there would be a transition period. While he told me he was only interested in me, and I was the only man entering his bed, I was aware how we met. I was also aware of his intentions before we even met through his first major slip-up on Grindr. I couldn’t expect monogamy from the first night — That wasn’t realistic.

While I was fairly understanding and looked the other way early on, I was not going to tolerate infidelity as our relationship progressed and strengthened. For starters, my heart wouldn’t be able to handle the pain, and lastly, it wasn’t safe for my health. I needed to trust him to be faithful. Outside the heartbreak, frankly, we were having unprotected sex. We’d been tested, but there are no guarantees. I trusted him with my life, literally, and if he was sleeping with other men, he was treating my life carelessly.

I sincerely had a feeling his intentions had evolved, but I couldn’t be sure how he would react when faced with temptation. I hoped I was the only man for him. As a result, I was petrified for the life of our relationship. I’d watched my relationship with N publicly combust the previous year, and I didn’t want a repeat.

I’m sure many of you reading think I am overreacting. It’s just a party… It’s just a parade… It’s just a weekend… Well, not to me. To me, it was a litmus test for the strength of my love for CK. I didn’t want that love to be tested, and I didn’t want to have to make a decision that could end my relationship with CK. He was my Superman. He was my world. If I lost him, my world would come crumbling down.

We had plans to go to a huge party at XL Friday night, Matinée circuit party Saturday, and the parade Sunday afternoon. I was venturing into this unknown abyss with faith and hope I could persevere. The thought of CK dropping X and losing control of his inhibitions with some other guy caused me great pain and panic attacks. The idea of another man’s hand groping his package caused me panic attacks. Picturing him dancing shirtless against another shirtless man caused me panic attacks. Every time these scenarios and many others entered my brain, my heart rate would increase drastically, I would start to sweat, and I would get light-headed.

All this added up to me being petrified and frustrated. When I asked CK what clothes I should pack to bring to his apartment for the weekend, and I didn’t get any cooperation or help. It all became overwhelming. To begin with, this wasn’t something I was looking forward to, and his lack of cooperation made me lose my sh*t. “Okay Babe. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Have fun tonight!” I said on the verge of tears as I hung up the phone on him.

I think that was the wake-up call CK needed. I don’t think he fully understood how much anxiety this all created for me. I voiced my frustrations for weeks leading up to Pride Weekend. I told him I was going out of my comfort zone, but I was willing to do it as long as I got some hand-holding. I needed help to get over this. It was just another fun weekend for him, but it was a big deal to me.

After a few minutes, he called me back. We discussed things a little more rationally, and CK’s tone changed. He finally realized I was struggling and tossed out the life-preserver. Now that I knew I had him in my corner, I was a little more relaxed, however, I still wasn’t completely comfortable. It was going to be a long, stressful and exhausting weekend both physically and emotionally. I bit down then and there, and braced for impact as I packed my bag and walked out the door.

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His Mother’s Day

The day after my birthday, CK and I made plans for me to meet his mother while she was in town. I celebrated my birthday the day before without him, but I still managed to have fun. I was incredibly excited to see him. I was also incredibly honored to meet his mother. I couldn’t believe he felt comfortable introducing me to her exactly one month from the date we first met, however, we’d grown extremely close in that short period of time.

There was a plan for me to meet CK, his mother, and three of his friends at Essex and Beauty on the Lower East Side for brunch. It was Mother’s Day, so I knew wherever we were going was going to be a sh*tshow! I was slightly anxious. I was more nervous about meeting the one friend I’d never met before than I was about his mother. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t feel any pressure there. I was pretty relaxed about it. Either way, I was missing my Superman terribly.

I arrived a few minutes late for our reservation. CK and his mother were still in transport, but the three friends had already sat at the table. One of them came to the front to greet me and take me to the table. I’d met him before when we all went to see Avengers together. As we ascended the staircase to our table, he informed me of a problem in the kitchen. He mentioned something about a leak and having to shut the kitchen down. There was new immediacy to our plans.

Per usual, CK was running quite late. I learned they were in a cab, but they were on the other side of Manhattan, however, he shared the good news he finally found a new apartment. It wasn’t in Brooklyn. It wasn’t on the Lower East Side. It was in Hell’s Kitchen. I was thrilled!!

We learned they wouldn’t arrive in time for us to order, and one of the friends began to protest in uproar. He argued with the staff until he learned of the true nature of the problem. The maître d’ offered to walk us over to their sister restaurant, The Stanton Social to ensure we got a table and were served quickly.

On the walk over, we happened upon CK and his mother getting out of their cab. He was in the process of calling me. I said hi to him and was introduced to his mother. She wasn’t what I expected at all. I’m not sure what my expectations were, but she certainly surpassed them. She was gorgeous and very lively. I immediately loved her spirit and energy.

We continued to the other restaurant. Not only did we get a table quickly, we were also served champagne to start. They more than made up for the inconvenience. On top of that, I feel we upgraded restaurants, not downgraded.

His mother took the time to hug all the other boys and say hi. She knew two of them from Miami, where CK grew up, so there was some catching up to do. CK was rather reserved in regards to PDA. We didn’t kiss, but I got a hefty hug. He whispered in my ear how much he missed me. We held hands under the table nearly the entire meal.

It was very nice being with everyone. The conversation flowed, and there was rarely an awkward moment. Our food was excellent, and we all enjoyed our meal. I was worried I’d feel like an outsider, not because his friends wouldn’t include me, but because they all already knew each other. I was the new guy. I didn’t know the stories. I didn’t know the inside jokes. That would take time. Generally, until I’m comfortable, I get quiet. I was worried they would think I was antisocial, which clearly isn’t the case.

If they hadn’t done enough to ensure we had a great experience, our lovely waitress brought us a plate of complimentary donuts to make up for what happened at Essex and Beauty.

I really loved watching CK and his mother interact. She had a nickname she called him, and I found it adorable. They shared a lot of the same mannerisms. I watched her keep him in line (and made sure I took mental notes). They were incredible together, even with the hell they went through over that weekend to find him a new apartment. It was obvious the copious amounts of love they shared.

When we exited the restaurant, his mother returned to go to the bathroom. He took the opportunity to pull me in and give me the biggest kiss. It was quite a scene, but we didn’t care. His friends made comments, and he pointed out how he wouldn’t kiss me in front of his mother. Apparently, it made her slightly uncomfortable when he “flaunted his homosexuality.” I thought this was funny, because it’s the kind of thing I could hear coming out of my mother’s mouth.

I also learned that when I went to the restroom while we were eating, his mother expressed her approval to him. “He’s really cute,” he told me she added.

When she came back outside, we made plans to go back to his place and spend the rest of the evening on his roof watching the sunset. We stopped for a bottle of wine and some beers and went up to the roof with the batch of cookies I baked for his mother. Before heading up to the roof, CK and one of his friends were talking in the kitchen. That left myself and his mother in his living room to chat. I learned about all her dogs, as well as CK’s dog all living under her care. She told me how early she had to get up to take care of them the morning she flew out. We talked about what it takes to raise a dog and discussed CK’s desire to get a dog. He was constantly trying to take me shopping for a dog, but I couldn’t take care of one on my own. I wouldn’t have a dog until I lived with someone who would help me raise it. Maybe CK could fill that roll one day.

We spent a lot of time talking about cooking. CK’s friend was an avid cook, so we had a lot to chat about. I showed him my massive digital cookbook I created. I learned where CK inherited his lack of cooking skills. Apparently, his mother was a self-admitted non-chef. She barely cooked, so the two of them discussed their lack of skill in the kitchen, however, each had their specialty they could cook. I expressed my plan to teach CK how to cook, but ensure he wouldn’t cut his finger off again under my supervision.

After a while, a guy CK used to hook up with who lived in the building joined us. CK privately made a comment to me when we were downstairs how he may have seen us all through the window. He mentioned inviting him to join us, and I didn’t protest. My guard was up however. I had no idea how he’d treat me. After all, I was the one who got the man he had a crush on. They were almost roommates until it came to light he had a crush on CK, who told me he did not share the same feelings.

In the end, this guy was pretty cool. He wasn’t combative toward me in the slightest, and we actually got along. The conversation continued through the night. When this guy left, CK made an attempt to set him up with the friend who joined us from brunch. I really liked this guy. He seemed to get it. He was very realistic and had a great sense of humor. Of the friends I’d met so far, he was the one I felt I would get along with the best. When the old hookup left, CK’s friend called him to set up a date. This also killed two birds with one bullet. The old hookup would be tied up and would stay away from my man. Yes, I was getting territorial.

CK’s mother told us stories about him when he was a child, and I was really enjoying getting to know him, his mother and his friends. It was starting to get late, and CK and his mother still needed to get dinner. I needed to get home and get ready for work the next day. I too needed to eat something other than cookies. I said goodbye to CK’s mother with a big hug and CK walked me to the door.

We talked about how much we couldn’t wait until his mother left, not because either of us were tired of her, but because we were hungry for each other. We hadn’t slept together in days, and our animal instincts were growling. I said goodbye to him with a big kiss and made my way to the PATH to head home.

It was a very successful weekend. I had a great birthday, and apparently, I was a hit with CK’s mother. The whole day was a big success. I was all the more excited to be a bigger part of CK’s life, and I couldn’t wait for the next moment.

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Flip the Crazy Switch

I woke Monday morning to find myself all alone. After spending nearly forty hours straight with CK, it’s no wonder I felt alone. Two mornings in-a-row I woke in the embrace of an amazing man who made me utterly happy.

Utterly happy until I became utterly confused. I still had no idea where the conversation came from Sunday afternoon. He peppered the weekend with some of the thoughts he had about taking things slow, but this conversation came out of nowhere. I was not putting pressure on him to put a label on things. I never mentioned anything of the sort. I wasn’t even becoming clingy or stalkerish.

Almost always, he was the one to pick up the phone and call. I would send the periodic text message, but I was always sure to do so sporadically. Since Wednesday night, when he mentioned the need to talk to me about something in person, I’d been walking on eggshells. I was also slowly preparing myself for just this type of news.

I had lots of questions. A large part of me wished he never brought up the subject. Who was this other guy? How does he fit in the picture? So far, all I knew about him was they met around the beginning of the new year, they would see each other about once a month and go out to dinner as friends, and they would do things as more than friends. We were not exclusive. I’d known him for two weeks. I never had that expectation. A part of me knew that wasn’t the case the moment he blocked me on Grindr.

The fact that this was a policy made sense on paper, but when you look at the emotional collateral damage that policy has, it seems absurd. If he was so happy with me, why did he need to be on Grindr at all? Was he still getting sex out of his system? Fine. Not happy about it, but I get it. But a time will come when he’s going to have to $hit or get off the pot. I don’t wait around forever. My timeline, if anything, has shrunk after guys like Smiles stringing me along for three months. There would come a time when I would have to be enough for him, or I would be nothing for him.

I have to say, I was a little shocked with how well I was handling this. I was so proud of how much I’d grown. Normally this kind of information would make me a nervous wreck. My mind would be closing gaps between spotty information with whatever it chose to create. Maybe my suspicions would be on point. Maybe they’d be way off base. Maybe I’d make another assumption and cheat on him like I did with N. That was not going to be the case this time. I was stronger. My expectations were far more realistic. I was not following A’s advice of continuing to keep up a roster, but he was. I was okay with that. But there comes a time when you have to settle down and narrow the field to one. Who knew when that would be?

It was so contradictory as well. That afternoon, I received a text from him saying: “Baby, I can’t get you outta my mind. And, I’m totally ok with that. Hope you’re having a good one xoxo.” It’s obvious he was interested in me.

After an awesome workout at the gym, I left feeling confident and happy. It was a good workout. I kept thinking about how I wanted to look good for CK, but also, if things didn’t work out, I’d be a sexy man waiting for the next guy to sweep me off my feet. This is what was different about me. I wasn’t emotionally putting all my eggs in one basket.

I came back to my office and chatted with J on gChat. I told him the situation, and he was just as perplexed as I was. He saw the same picture painted I did. He also came to the same conclusion: “I have no idea how you should proceed,” he said. It was then I decided the best thing for me was to ignore the conversation completely. We weren’t at that place yet to have that talk. I wasn’t going to face what he told me until I needed to, which J pointed out to me would be in about two to three weeks based on my typical timeline. I agreed that around one to one and a half months in, I would get restless and need answers.

That evening, I was writing blog entries. I picked up the phone numerous times to call CK, but better judgment kicked in for once. I put the phone down, after stalking his Twitter account a little and went back to writing. That’s when I received a call from CK. He was at a work event and took the time to call. We made tentative plans Sunday morning for me to spend the night either Monday or Tuesday. I had been curious if he’d call and if our plans would stick. Indeed they did. He asked if he’d see me the following night. He had tickets to a Johnnie Walker scotch tasting. Little did he know how good friends Johnnie and I am. He asked if I’d be his plus one and suggested we grab dinner and go back to his place after. I agreed, and he asked if he could call when he got home later in the evening to give me more details. One thing I have to give him credit for, he was incredibly considerate and when he said he’d call, he always delivered. That is until that night. He never did call. I’m not going to lie when I say my imagination was already getting the better of me. However, I couldn’t make any assumptions.

This time, I would be brave and speak my mind. I wouldn’t wait two more months at the sake of a failing relationship just so I had something to hold onto. No. This time would be different. This time I knew what I wanted, and I was going to get it – If not from him, than from a more deserving man.

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Hoboken Seconds

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…

After our date on Monday, I wasn’t sure when I’d see Chelsea again. Things were moving forward at a nice pace, but I still wasn’t diving in like I normally do. What was holding me back? Was I finally going about things the right way? Was I not fully interested in him?

That Tuesday was his last day in his current role at his job. He went out celebrating with coworkers, and when they were nearing the end of their evening of drinks and fun, he texted to ask if he could come by. Two days in a row. I certainly didn’t have a problem with that. He obviously wanted to see me, and I was very happy about that. One of his coworkers lives across the street from me, and they were able to share a car. I told him I’d be thrilled if he came over.

When he arrived, I could tell he was quite tipsy. It was cute how he couldn’t hold his liquor. Alcohol gets him quite lubricated. He was very flirtatious once again, as he was at the end of our first date. Everyone was buying him drinks since he was no longer be working out of that office. His new territory was Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, etc.

We started with some kissing when he walked in the door. I took his hand and led him to my bedroom. He was wearing a full suit, so I found him some more comfortable clothes. In the middle of changing, we began to fool around. It was fun. He was a good kisser, and we were making out all over my bed. I liked having someone of the same size to hold, kiss and roll around with. This time around, he certainly wasn’t shy about being in just his briefs. We had a lot of fun with each other and still no sex. And, I was fine with this. I knew things would progress slowly, and I was quite happy about that. ( I was missing sex a little).

He was a sweet guy, but that night was a little different. I saw a side of him I hadn’t only caught a glimpse of. A lot of his drama started pouring out, and I realized he had just been trying to keep it all down in an attempt to not scare me off. Now, I was getting to see the real Chelsea. I went to bed with a different picture in my head. Was this what was holding me back? Did I think maybe he was a bit too gay for me?

We watched TV and ate some dinner. a lot of the little things I ignored previously were bothering me that night. We went to bed at a reasonable hour. After sleeping together twice and it not ending well, I made a suggestion at the risk of sounding cold. I told him there was no need for us to snuggle while we slept. I tried to be honest and realistic about it. I said, “We can cuddle and snuggle, and when we’re ready to fall asleep, we can curl up on opposite sides of the bed. That way you will get a good night’s rest.” I also took this as the opportunity to tell him I wanted to go for a run the following morning. I was finally getting into a workout groove, and I didn’t want to throw it off. I could sneak out while he was still sleeping, and when I returned we could get ready to head into the city together. With that, we both went to sleep on opposite sides of my California King bed.

I woke in the morning and quietly snuck out to pound the pavement. I had a good run. I needed to clear my head, and the run was just the ticket. When I returned, I hopped in the shower. When I came out of the shower, I gently woke Chelsea. Normally, I would have slipped back into bed with him to cuddle, but I wasn’t feeling it. It was then I realized I wasn’t particularly sexually attracted to him. He was very shy about his body, and while I enjoyed the slower timeline and waiting, a part of me knew it was an important part of the relationship I couldn’t ignore. I’d sacrificed that in the past too many times. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I continued to get ready. I was pretty quiet, but then again, I usually am after I work out. I’m also not a morning person to begin with. I either get quiet or I become combative, as my mother learned many a time riding home from swim practice in high school. There was little talk and discussion as we got ready for work/for him to head back home. When we emerged from my room, I found a mess left by my roommate. I detailed to him why I was so annoyed and how this was a common occurrence.

The walk to the PATH wasn’t exactly full of chatter either. I struggled to think about things to talk about. I fixated on his new job and asking the questions about how he was going to handle it. Subconsciously, I was noticing all the things in the back of my head I’d brushed aside once again. Now, my cons list was growing.

When we got to his stop, I gave him a quick peck on the lips. I could tell it made him uncomfortable, but I was trying to force myself to stop being ashamed of being gay. If he were a woman, I’d have had no problem kissing her to say goodbye on the PATH. Why should I censor myself just because he was a man?

Later that day, I received a text from him asking me if everything was okay, or was it my roommate. I blamed my quietness on being annoyed with my roommate, but in reality, I was no longer looking at him as a prospect.

That weekend, I went shopping with my friend, P. While at the Woodbury Common Outlets, I got a text from Chelsea asking, “Will I see you at the end of the week?” I didn’t want to drag this out. I decided in my mind I was no longer interested. It was going to be tough to convince myself otherwise. I replied, “[Chelsea], I don’t want to lead you on or anything, but I’ve been giving it some thought. I just don’t know if we’re a strong match. You’re a really nice guy, I just don’t know you’re the guy for me. I want someone who is going to be around more… That’s important to me. Hope you understand.” Immediately, he responded, “Yup. I feel the same way :). Anyways, all good here. Please do me a favor and put me in touch with your friend about subletting my apartment, and I’ll see you sometimes in the city :).” I don’t know if that was his way of protecting himself emotionally or if it is how he truly felt. Either way, it was a clean break. All was good, and we could still be friends if we ran into each other in the future.

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The Milkman

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…

Periodically I get slightly outlandish requests from men on Grindr. Some want to pay me to suck on my toes and lick my feet. Some are looking for very kinky things. Some just want to give a bl*wjob. To be honest, this was never something I have ever craved giving. It’s part of my bedroom repertoire, but it’s never something I’m just really itching to do without getting some reciprocation. This isn’t always the case with Grindr, adam4adam and ManHunt men.

On the night before St. Patty’s day in Hoboken, I received a bunch of Grindr messages from a guy who’d been asking to come over and give me a bl*wjob before work on numerous occasions. I was laying in bed watching TV and saw no harm in a little oral pleasure. As the conversation continued, he went dark, and I went to bed.

As per my usual, the next morning, I woke up horny. I had multiple messages from “The Milkman.” I conversed with him on the subject for a little bit. He apologized for dozing off the night before and never coming over. He seriously wanted to make it up to me. “I’ll make up for last night. I swear! You won’t regret it. I’m that good!” He was at his apartment waiting for his friends to wake up. They spent the night in anticipation of the local holiday. I told him I was still in bed and was horny. He immediately offered to come over and service me, but he wouldn’t be able to do it until 12:30. By then, my roommate would have my apartment filled with her friends. That would prove to be a logistical nightmare to sneak him in. Not that I need to sneak him in, but I don’t need a bunch of fresh college grad girls running their mouths about me.

He continued to push me to figure out a way to make it happen. “You can drink a beer while I do it,” he added. He had to wait until 12:30 because that was when his group was heading to the bar. He would double back and come over to my place. I explained the party and told him I’d have to sneak him in the back door. He seemed to be game with the plan. I questioned what I’d have to do for him, and he immediately told me nothing. He just really wanted to service me. He wasn’t the best looking guy, but he wasn’t ugly either. I was okay with the situation as long as I didn’t have to service him.

We started getting graphic, but also discussed safety. We didn’t really know each other. We didn’t want to do anything too risky. I was all riled up and having a hard time not finishing myself off right then and there. I told him to just come over then, but he wouldn’t sneak out on his friends. I was so horny. “I can’t. My girl is here. Wait. You’ll get it.” WHAT!? His girl? Guess he had a girlfriend. That was none of my business. If he wasn’t doing it with me, it’d be some other guy. It was obvious we weren’t going to form a relationship out of this, so it was no skin off my back. I did question him on it, and he explained it was a terminal relationship. It was already on life-support. He told me not to touch myself. “Think about baseball or grandmas,” he added. With that, I went and took a shower to pass the time before his arrival.

When he got to the door, he texted. I buzzed him in and he climbed the back staircase. It took a few attempts and close calls before I opened the door and he came straight into my bedroom and closed the door. When I told him a girl just walked past the door, he responded, “This is crazy bro.” Everyone was finally in the kitchen, and I assumed I pulled it off.

We chatted a bit about our previous conversation and our plans for the day while we shared a beer. He seemed like a reasonable guy. Very down-to-earth and realistic. He wasn’t the most fit guy, but he was a fun character. He was also very anxious to get my pants off.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I sat on the bed, and he pulled my shorts down. He was very pleased with what he saw, and he went to town. I took the opportunity to use my hands to fondle him through his pants. He quickly became aroused, which further increased my arousal. He continued for some time before I moved up on the bed. He came around my side, and I undid his pants so I could really feel him. It didn’t take much longer before I was on the edge of climax. He back his head away and began to use his hand while I finished in quite a fountain show. I think we both loved every second of it. He really was as good as he made himself out to be.

While I toweled off, I asked him about his girlfriend. He told me he was ready to dump her. He also mentioned many of his friends already knew he was gay. I wasn’t fully buying any of his stories. They all seemed just a little too convenient.

The conversation then turned on me. He told me how good-looking I was. He enjoyed my strong features. I complain about my nose quite often and am seriously considering getting it fixed. When I mentioned this, he heavily protested. “You have a very strong Roman nose. Don’t change a thing about it,” he protested. I told him that was the nicest way anyone has ever described my big nose before. We both laughed. “No. But really. It’s great. That and your strong chin. You’re a very handsome man,” he added. I was blushing.

Shortly after, we snuck him back out the door when the coast was clear. Five minutes later, I received a text from him: “Thanks! You’re a pretty rad guy!… And stop picking on that face. You’re a f#ckin’ knockout!” This was the first time anyone had ever thanked me for them giving me a bl*wjob. I replied, “If anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.” He told me any time I wanted him to come over, he’d be all over it. “I’d love to have a regular thing where I swing by in the morning before work a few times a week,” he said. He really was like the milkman.

I polished off my beer and walked out to the kitchen. I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought. My male roommate and his girlfriend noticed him come in. They didn’t care and didn’t judge me. When I told them the full story, they actually gave me a high-five. I walked to the fridge and grabbed another beer. I had a long day of drinking in front of me…

 

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Stood Up Twice But Third Time’s a Charm

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

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Settling In

Yesterday I was shocked to receive a comment telling me I’ve been nominated for the TMI Award. I was pleasantly surprised from this great honor.

Id like to thank sensiboutique.com for blowing my mind with this great award.

The TMI Blog Award honors those blogs that discuss everything in detail and do it well. These bloggers aren’t afraid to discuss their most awkward, embarrassing and intimate experiences with honesty, humor and little to no filter.

Here are the rules

  • Thank the person who presented you with the award.
  • Link back to the blogger who presented the award to you.
  • Share an awkward, embarrassing and intimate story in 250 words or less.
  • Copy and paste the blog award on your blog.
  • Present the TMI Blog Award to 5 – 10 deserving blogs.
  • Let them know they have been chosen by leaving a comment at their blog.

 

Back to your regularly scheduled (oversharing) program…

After yet another failed date, I tried to see what other fish I could snag. It’d been a few months since my last relationship, and I was hungry for something real. It’d been even longer than a few months since I had that.

I was spending a lot of time on Grindr, Manhunt, Adam4adam.com, and OKCupid searching for Mr. Right while trying to convince myself to ignore Mr. Right Now.

I started to chat with a few guys, but work had other plans for me. I was being sent out to L.A. for a few days. I’m certainly not complaining, because this is one of the best places I’ve been sent to date. I even decided to extend my stay while I was out there. I told my boss I would be staying through Sunday night and coming back on the redeye (on my own dollar of course). The few guys whose interest I peaked would have to be patient and wait until I returned to the East Coast.

I chatted with my roommate before I left for L.A. I was debating how to spend my time out there. I knew I wanted to bask in the sun end get a head start on some color. But, would I be consulting Grindr while out there, or would I be using the time to find my center once again? A big part of me noticed I was getting out of control again, but another part of me asked, why not? I was single I could live it up. I decided I would make a game-time decision.

I landed a few hours ahead of the rest of my team. This was by my own design so I could relax by the pool for a few hours before digging in. It was one of my better ideas recently, because when I landed, the weather was gorgeous. After two short hours, I got a text from the team they’d arrived. I met them at the conference room, and they all commented on how I’d already gotten some color.

I continued to work the rest of the evening, and we went out for dinner after a longs day’s work. I had fun with this team. It wasn’t the usual stuffy crowd. This crew had level heads on their shoulders.

The next day, we presented like rock stars. I told my team how great they did and how I was going to use them as a case study going forward with all my other teams.

After we all went out for a spectacular lunch, I said goodbye as they all jetted off to the airport. For me, it was back to the pool.

While I laid there, of course I pulled out my friend Grindr. I wanted to see the talent in the Glendale area (where my hotel was). I managed to find a decent amount of guys and even started chatting with a few of them. Of course, against my better judgment, I decided to have some fun. I found a guy who was looking for fun as well, and I told him to come by. He happened to be driving through the neighborhood, so he obliged.

I made my way back to my room and waited for him to arrive. When I heard a knock at the door, I greeted a man who I can only guess was some sort of Armenian type. I really had no clue though. He had a decent body, and we got right down to business.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We made out a bit until he laid back on the bed with his legs in the air. I pulled out a condom and gave him what he was asking for. He certainly liked it — I could tell because he continued to tell me how much he enjoyed it. He was a good bottom, and I had a good time. After some time, he finished all over his chest. Shortly after, I added to the fun as a smile crossed both our faces. I handed him a towel and he cleaned up in my bathroom.

As he dressed himself, he mentioned how nice it was to have a good top around. Apparently, the Glendale area had too many bottoms and not enough tops. I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing for me concerning the remainder of my trip.

He was also very realistic about what transpired. We both treated it very transactional. He didn’t stick around afterwards or linger. He realized we were both there to satiate the animal within, and when we’d had our fill, he peaced out. He was a body, and I was a body. That’s all. I never knew his name. I didn’t even have his phone number.

I never would have thought I could have this mentality when I think back a year ago. I was telling N nearly a year before this how I don’t think I could ever have emotionless sex. I always thought I would only have sex with passion and love back then. I wasn’t thrilled with my transformation. I would have preferred to stay the same, but I’d already realized how enjoyable sex can be.

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Breaking Through

Saturday night, we had a special celebration planned. Every year, to commemorate another year of my father being on the planet, my parents come visit, and we go out to dinner in New York City. Afterwards, we take in all the Christmas sights around town.

Even though I recently moved and invited my parents into town to help me move in, this year would be no different.

With a closet built and an entire chest of drawers assembled, we prepared to go out for dinner. My parents wanted to have dinner in Hoboken, so I decided to take them to my favorite restaurant I go to every year for my birthday, Piri Piri. I coordinated with my sister to meet her there to celebrate my father’s birthday.

We sat down for dinner and placed our appetizer orders. Somewhere along the way, we started to talk about me and the guy I was dating. For the first time, they didn’t change the subject to who my sister was dating at the time. I was shocked when my mother brought it up. I think they got the hint this was more than just a fling when I went into the city to spend the night. They were finally taking an interest in my dating life, and I loved it. They asked questions about what he did for a living and where he grew up. It was great. I was happy to talk about him.

Both my father and my mother were showing a vested interest. I wonder if my sister spoke to them about my unhappiness. It seems like a night-and-day shift from past history. I don’t care how the change came about. I’m just happy it happened. My dating life is a LARGE part of who I am, and for them to not share that with me was painful (However, I don’t share everything. I don’t quite know how to tell them I write a blog).

Our food arrived, and we had a very pleasant meal. My sister wasn’t feeling well, so when we were ready to make our way into the city, she went home instead to rest.

I took my parents to a cute shop in Hoboken, Michaelangela’s. They had the store decked out wall-to-wall with Christmas decorations and ornaments. We continued to the PATH as I asked them what they’d like to see. We have all grown tired of the standard Macy’s windows and the Rockefeller Christmas Tree. One of our favorite displays, the Sak’s snowflake window show, was discontinued. I proposed a new set of sights. We’d never done the Union Square shops, so I proposed we start there.

When we got off the PATH, we walked to Union Square. It wasn’t too cold out, so the walk wasn’t too bad. When we arrived, all the shops were closed for the night. I apologized, and we hopped into a cab to head uptown to Bloomingdale’s. This was another part of the city we never usually visited. The cab ride was cramped, and he was a very bad driver. I’ve never gotten so many red lights in the city in my life!

Bloomingdale’s was less than thrilling, so I suggested we head over towards Fifth Avenue. My mom kept commenting on how impressed she was. She couldn’t believe how quickly I could learn to navigate the city coming from a the farm life out in the country. I explained how easy it was. As I was showing them new landmarks they’d never visited before, my mother commented on how many she’d seen on her Sex in the City tour of New York City. (I found it ironic that subject came up. Even though I’ve only seen the show twice, I aspire to maintain my blog in the Sex in the City fashion).

She was finally piecing parts of the city she’d been to before together on a map in her mind. It was all starting to make sense to her. Who knew Sex in the City could teach you geography. We window shopped as we walked because many stores were closed. I took them to The Plaza Hotel. They were happy to see the inside since they’ve never been.

Afterwards, we walked past the Bergdorf Goodman window displays. These are some of my favorites since they are not childish and are often done tastefully. My parents took pictures in front of them and of each and every window. They really enjoyed them. I was happy to be sharing the joy with my parents after they spent the weekend substantially helping me settle in to my new apartment.

A small part of me wished Smiles joined us on our little adventure. It would have been nice for him to meet my parents and spend a little time with them, but we weren’t there yet. I also wanted him there because I love spending Christmas in the city with someone I care about. Last year, Broadway and I made a point to take in the Christmas sights. He even treated me The Plaza Hotel to my first drink ever bought for me by another man at. I wanted to share such happy times with someone else I cared about. However, this wasn’t possible or realistic. We weren’t at the meet the parents stage yet, and Smiles was home in bed recovering.

We continued to stroll down Fifth Avenue, but by this time, we were searching for some kind of dessert. We were striking out because it was around 11:00 at night. Most things had closed for the night. On top of that, I was walking around the city on a freshly sprained ankle — Probably not the best idea. My parents were starting to grow weary as well, so I suggested we head towards my office for a pit stop before hopping on the PATH home.

I realized we’d be passing McDonald’s, so I suggested we get hot fudge sundaes, cookies, and fries for dessert. My parents agreed. It would also eliminate the stop at my office because I could use the restrooms there.

I checked the PATH schedule. The next train was leaving in eight minutes, and the following one was another fifteen minutes after that. I urged them to hurry and bring our dessert with us. We hustled to the train, making it there with a little time to spare.

Luckily, we all got seats and relaxed on our ride home. I was really happy to do something nice for my parents in return for what they do for me. It was nice spending some quality time with them as well. I was also still on a high from their newfound interest in my love-life. It removed a big roadblock in our relationship. I could go to bed a happy man.

It was a long day, and we were all tuckered out. We would all surely sleep well the minute our heads touched the pillow.

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