Posts Tagged routine
It was the middle of July in NYC, and while many might find the thought of that heat taxing, I’ve always enjoyed the summertime. People are out during all hours of the day and night. The city comes alive because people are willing to spend more of their time outdoors.
Tuesdays are never particularly good days. You’re still three days away from the weekend, and you don’t have the benefit of being refreshed from the pervious weekend. After a long Tuesday at work, I made my way to CK‘s apartment. He was wrapping up at his office, so I expected we would be arriving around the same time. I was looking forward to seeing him and relaxing. What better way to end a Tuesday than relaxing and watching the sunset from the rooftop of his New York high-rise on the banks of the Hudson River?
We dropped our bags and immediately took the elevator to the penthouse floor. A few others share the same thinking we did, and they were enjoying the days final rays with a few cocktails and some light-hearted conversation. CK and I made our way to the far side of the roof and swapped stories about our days. Through the course of our conversation, I learned he had some work left to do for the evening. It just so happened to be my expertise, so I offered to help when we finally made our way back downstairs. I told him this would have to wait until after we ate dinner of course because I was starving. As the last few beams of light disappeared behind the buildings on banks of the Hudson River in New Jersey, we exchanged a romantic kiss and made our way back downstairs.
We agreed upon ordering in instead of cooking, especially since CK still had work to do. “Sushi it is!” he exclaimed. While we waited, he worked on his presentation while I worked on a blog post in front of the TV. We paused when the food came so we could eat, but once we were properly fed, it was right back to work. I put a little work into his presentation while he proofread my post, pausing to show him a few tips I’d learned along the way myself.
It was a really nice night. We’d fallen into this routine finally, and I was really enjoying it. We were a couple, and there was no fighting. When the good times came, I genuinely appreciated them. I was beginning to wonder if we were a Ronnie and Sammi kind of couple for a little while there (Couldn’t resist the Jersey Shore reference there). That was a scary thought. I didn’t want to be the couple who constantly fought. We loved each other far more than that.
When we’d done enough work for the night, CK asked if he could put on his beloved Rachel Maddow, and I begrudgingly agreed. I wasn’t thrilled with the thought, as I grew more and more tired of her nightly hour-long program. I follow politics pretty closely and follow the Nightly News religiously every night, but I didn’t think anyone needed that much politics in their life. That Tuesday night, it was irrelevant what I wanted because my body wanted to go to sleep. I quickly dozed off on the couch while CK drank in his liberal political commentary.
When I finally woke, it was much later, and I suggested we go to bed. I could see CK was tired, and it was obvious I’d had enough with the day. We made our way to his room and slid into bed. I didn’t even make the pit stop to brush my teeth. I’m not sure why I was so exhausted, but I’m pretty sure I was asleep before my head came to rest on the pillow.
After a relaxed night, including dinner, cuddling and a dream-filled night sleeping together, CK and I woke early feeling frisky. It was six am, but we were both turned on and wide awake.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started fooling around. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I was pulling him in tight and hugging him with all my might. I never wanted to let go. I lifted my hand, and gave him a smack on his backside. He always liked this — I was somewhat obsessed with his butt. It was amazing — Like The David amazing.
He put his mouth around my member and went to town. I laid back and enjoyed all the sensations. It was all I could do to hold out from jumping on top of him and slipping inside. After some time, my wish was granted. We changed positions, and I was on top of him. I slid in slowly, savoring every stimulation sensation I felt as I did. I started slow, and the pace only picked up from there. We changed to many other positions that morning.
We continued until neither could take it anymore. He finished, and we made our way to the shower to clean up. The fun didn’t end in the bed. We continued molesting each other while we showered together.
After we dried off, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I wanted more sex. We were already late from fooling around in bed all morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate all day at work if I didn’t finish. He began to blow me once again, which morphed into mutual oral pleasure. I still couldn’t finish. It was getting late, and we weren’t making much progress, so we stopped. I would simply save it for that night.
We got dressed and made our way to the PATH to head into work. We both read the third book of the Hunger Games series, Mocking Jay. I had only a handful of pages left before I finished. I was at a part of the book that was very emotionally charged and describes a loving relationship my boyfriend and I often mimicked. I was very happy with the ending, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Reading the book made me fall in love with him even more.
I texted him throughout the day to tell him how much I missed him. All day long, he would ask me, “Real or not real?” — a line from the Hunger Games books. This was definitely real. I was falling in love with this amazing man every second of every day.
I also took the opportunity to ask him if he liked lobster. I was thinking we’d go to the grocery store and pick up some cheap lobsters for dinner. He was totally onboard.
He needed to stop by his place before coming to mine. Since it was only a few blocks from my office, he encouraged me to swing by before heading to Hoboken. I told him this wouldn’t be an extended thing. I explained I still needed to go to the grocery store to get the lobsters before cooking them. I didn’t want to get sucked into a post-work romp before heading back to my place.
We finally made our way to my apartment. We hopped on the motorcycle and hit up ShopRite in Hoboken. I have to tell you; the seafood guy there is the coolest. He knows so much about seafood and will always suggest how to cook things. We even took the opportunity to snap a picture of him weighing the four lobsters we bought. It was then and there we decided to go home and play with the lobsters. We were going to have Hunger Game reenactments. We were like a bunch of teenage girls.
When we got home, we put all the lobsters on the counter and cut the bands off their claws. I grabbed the whiteout so we could paint them to denote who was who. We even bought pitas to represent Peeta. CK had the great idea to use the Video Star app to make a music video set to Lana Del Ray’s parody of Video Games, Hunger Games.
While he filmed with his iPhone, we moved the lobsters around and made them fight each other.
When we were done playing, we dropping the lobsters into the pot and steamed them. We each had our own lobster, and I froze the other two to use for other recipes down the road (Yes, I keep lobster on hand to use in recipes). They were delicious. When we sufficiently made a mess of the entire kitchen and had our fill, we cleaned up and made our way to my bedroom. We watched a little TV before we both dozed off.
Things were starting to feel routine with him, and not in a bad way. We were so comfortable together. This is also when we both realized just how comfortable we are with each other. While in bed, he let one rip in front of me. I laughed hysterically. We’d finally reached the point we could comfortable fart in front of each other. I too squeezed one out in an act of solidarity. I told him how many farts I’d already buried in the bed with him in the past. We talked very openly about it from then on out. He asked questions about holding it in, and I explained I would always let them go when I left the room and even brought up how one slipped the first night I spent at his place. We both had a hearty laugh about it all.
He made me so happy. I found myself spending my entire day looking forward to seeing him again. Work was simply something I did between my time off — Between the time I’d get to see him again.Follow @onegayatatime