Posts Tagged sand

No Day at the Beach

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…

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

1 Comment

No Day at the Beach

For one, I was really enjoying the company of my new friend, The Navigator. Secondly, the weather was amazing. I couldn’t have been happier to be away from the cold weather on the East Coast.

Contrary to my plan, the weather wasn’t fully cooperative. The closer we got to the coast, the cloudier and colder it got. I didn’t care how cold it was, I was not putting the top on the convertible back up. I did, however, turn the heat up. That kept us cozy while we acclimated to the new weather pattern.

We drove around for a little before finally finding a parking spot. We walked to the beach, and we spread out the blanket I asked him to bring. He sat down, and he started pulling out the other provisions he brought — A bottle of Sprite, a bottle of Absolut, and some snacks and granola bars. I think I was falling in love. He was spontaneous and courteous. I added the provisions I grabbed at the gas station to the pool.

We sat next to each other commenting on how much the weather deteriorated and chatting about some of the surfers. We were among sparse company. The only other people brave enough to hit the sand that day were the surfers we both scoped out.

We relaxed and the conversation from the car continued. He talked about his family and his background. I learned he was a Jehovah’s Witness. He wasn’t very passive in his faith either. He had the prestigious honor to attend a bible college in Brooklyn. While there, through a slip up, it was discovered he is gay. He was excommunicated from the religion and has very limited contact with his family.

My heart was breaking to hear this sad story. He was an incredible man for surviving all that, and even more impressive for his comfort telling this to virtually a complete stranger. I told him about my religion, and my new outlook on it. I told him about my conversation with my mother on Christmas Eve, even though it was nothing compared to what he went through.

As if his story couldn’t be more complicated, I learned his brother is also gay and struggling with his religion. He was actually finding men online and hooking up with them at rest stops until he was nearly caught by police. His brother chose to take a different route in dealing with this. The Navigator tried to suppress his homosexuality with the aid of his religious elders, but came to accept who he is. His brother was not as fortunate to have the mental confidence to know himself. He was going through conversion classes to help him become heterosexual. They were trying to brainwash him. My skin was crawling at the sound of this.

After leaving his religion, he moved around a lot. One move was for a man, but obviously that didn’t work out. He’d been in LA for roughly a year and was still settling in.

I was really enjoying his company. We took turns making trips to the restroom, and when he stood to walk away, I took the opportunity to check him out. In the back of my head, a voice was screaming, “Be careful! You’re on vacation. You can’t fall for another West Coaster!” My heart was not going to be so easily convinced. I was cautiously proceeding. I really liked this guy. If he lived in New York, we’d definitely be dating. He was just what I was looking for. A masculine man who had his life together and knew what he wanted in life.

When we sufficiently froze our a$ses off, we hopped back in the car and made our way back inland. While we drove back to Glendale, I realized I’d already used up all my condoms and almost all the lube. I would need to stop for provisions along the way, but it wasn’t going to be easy with The Navigator with me. I decided to stop at a CVS. While he looked for the bathroom, I looked for the condoms and lube. I told him I needed to buy sunscreen, which I did, but that was very low on the priority list.

When I finally found what I needed, I realized they were under lock and key. I had to push a button that made the announcement, “Assistance needed in the family planning department.” Family planning couldn’t be further from what I was looking for. The irony was killing me. As Broadway always joked, “Butt babies don’t live.” I wondered what I’d done recently to deserve this karma. It was going to be nearly impossible to pull this off without him seeing what I was purchasing.

Someone came to unlock the case, and he turned his head in an attempt to give me my privacy. That was long gone. I grabbed what I needed and quickly walked to the checkout counter. Of course, when I arrived, there was a long line. I took my place in line behind an old man and hoped The Navigator was still looking for the restrooms.

I was next in line. Maybe I was going to get away with this after all. It wasn’t in the cards for me. The old man in front of me was taking FOREVER! Every second that passed was nerve-wracking. I didn’t want him to see what I was purchasing because it may have been perceived presumptuous.

Just then, he walked up behind me. My cover was blown. I tried to hide the products in the crooks of my crossed arms, but there’s a really good chance he saw what I had. Of course, this was also the moment the next register opened up. I walked up and purchased my items. I paid, and we walked back to the car without mentioning what I bought at all.

We talked the whole ride back to his apartment. When I turned onto his street, he turned to me and said, “Sooo, do you want to hang out some more?” Without hesitation, I shouted, “Yes!” He asked if I want to go back to my hotel room and hang out, and I agreed that was a great idea!

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

3 Comments

Sex On The Beach

Friday had come and gone on the island, and I behaved myself. I was trying to enjoy my time with my friends and stop thinking about finding a guy to hang out with, hookup or not. But, when Saturday rolled around and most of my friends were all coupled up, I started feeling lonely once again.

We went to a bar in Oak Bluff, Offshore Ale Company, to pregame for a night on the town. We ordered plates of french fries and tried some of the many beers they offered on tap. Everyone was well on their to a drunk night.

Throughout the night, I texted the Russian and tried to get him to come out to the bar. He wasn’t interested. However, he was quite horny and was looking to meet up with me. He proposed we hit up a remote stretch of beach between Oak Bluff and Vineyard Haven. He told me he’d drive over and pick me up in twenty minutes. I had patchy service everywhere  on the island (Thanks for nothing T-Mobile!), so I was worried he wasn’t going to be able to reach me. Ironically, that night at the bar, I had exceptional service, but almost forty minutes passed by with no word from him. I texted, but I received no response.

I figured he was either running behind or something came up, so I contined to hang out with my friends. Ironically, I ran into my college teammate’s best friend whom I’ve drank with many times in Hoboken. We chatted a bit before he needed to leave, and then I made my way back to the rest of the gang.

I excused myself to go outside to call the Russian and see what was up. I told everyone I’d be back in a minute after I made a phone call. When I got outside, I saw him standing by his car. He apologized for not getting back to me because he forgot his phone at home. I hopped in his car, and we left for the beach. I texted one of my friends to explain I wasn’t coming back in the bar, but I would join up with them later in the night.

We pulled off the road into a small parking lot by the beach. Just as we were walking down to the sand, another car pulled up. We figured we’d need to walk a bit to get out of site of the new arrivals. It didn’t help the moon was bright that night. (Warning: The following may be too graphic for some). When we found a spot, we started to make out. He unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. He got down on his knees in the sand and went to town. He felt amazing. Already, this was much better than the ginger and the construction site. All attention was coming to me, and I was basking in it. He took off his sweatshirt and laid it on the ground and laid down on his back on top of it. I laid on top of him. By now, both our shirts were off and our pants were around our ankles.

We agreed there would be no penetration, but we were going to have our fun in other ways. And, boy did we. We tried many positions and permutations, trying to avoid getting sandy at all times. After we finished decorating the sand, we got dressed carefully and walked back to the car. The last thing I wanted was to spend the rest of the night at the bar with sand in my clothes and boxers. We sat on the hood of the car and shared a cigarette. When it was finished, we hopped in, and he drove me back to town where my friends were drinking and dancing at the bar.

I arrived too late and was not granted access, however, this worked out well because some friends were heading home anyway. I joined them to head home for some late-night mac n’ cheese.

It was nice to have a friend with benefits on the island. He lived on the island year-round and makes his living in various ways, one of which is photography. This would be the last action I got on my vacation, but that didn’t mean the conversation ended there.

Since leaving Martha’s Vineyard, I became Facebook friends with the Russian. The Boston guy with the girlfriend has made it a point to text and email me the dates he is coming to New York City. The ginger photojournalist has texted me once to reiterate the good time he had and to ask how the rest of my vacation was going once he arrived back in D.C. Overall, it was a nice ego boost. Apparently I’m that good and hot enough they felt the need to followup.

Most likely, I will never see any of them again, but I take with me some fun memories and new experiences. Just as my vacation was ending, my priorities began to shift. Sex was starting to severely lose its mystique. It tends to do that when you have meaningless sex. I needed a change and this was a good transition point. When I got home, things were going to be different — Or at least that was the plan…

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a comment