Posts Tagged scared

We Kiss, We Make Up

When last I wrote about my budding relationship with Clark Kent and myself, we had gotten well past the honeymoon stage. We were trying to maintain a relationship across state lines, and it wasn’t easy. That being said, we were still seeing a lot of each other, and I started to wonder if maybe it was too much. I often wondered, maybe there is such a thing as too much of a good thing…

balance-rock-feather_zps9de02a2dWe needed to find balance, and that wasn’t going to be easy. We’d been dating four short months, but, in reality, it felt like we’d been dating for close to a year, even though we were still figuring things out.

That Thursday night, my old roommate was gathering with friends at the new waterfront biergarten in Hoboken for drinks to celebrate his birthday (which I was unaware of until deep into the night). I mentioned it to CK and asked him to join me when he finished work. He agreed, but he had to work later.

When I arrived, I didn’t know too many of my old roommate’s friends in attendance. I began texting and calling other friends to join us. P and S both responded, “On my way.”

As you can imagine, it takes a lot of time to write a blog, so I was utilizing my free time during the day at work to accomplish this. Apparently, my boss took notice to my poor use of free time since he wasn’t seeing any productivity coming from my time between projects. (Perhaps you can understand why I have been neglecting this blog for the past few months).

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This is relevant because I was also coming off a really rough day at work. I received my review that morning, and it was not positive. My only saving grace was a preemptive strike made a few weeks earlier.

I noticed an opportunity to take over our social media duties (which were being completely neglected) and asked my boss if I could take them on. During my review, when he pointed out my poor utilization of free time, I countered with the argument, “That’s why I approached you about taking on the social media duties.” I thought maybe I’d saved my a$$. He countered with, “I only wish you’d come to me about it three years earlier.” I was defeated.

As if this wasn’t bad enough, I learned later that day we’d be merging with another company. So, on top of a bad review, I was petrified of being labeled a redundancy. Two weeks earlier, my career looked to be shaping up. I was taking on a new role, and finding early success. My experience with this blog and other social media was really paying off. Now, it looked as if my whole world could be crumbling around me.

HobokenPier13A majority of it was out of my hands at that point. All I could do was put my nose to the grindstone for the coming weeks. But, on a Thursday night, I needed to forget. That meant I needed more than a few stiff drinks!

I drank beer after beer while mingling with old friends and some new ones. I was having quite a good time, but I was missing CK. I was texting with him back and forth discussing his arrival.

When he finally arrived, I was thrilled to see him. He could be comfort after a rough day, and I was finally properly lubricated enough to have a good time and forget about work, enjoying a night out with my man and friends.

CK grabbed a beer and immediately dove right into the conversation with all of us. I was chatting with S’s roommate, and the discussion quickly changed to his tattoos and body piercings. CK was a bit fascinated by tattoos at that time. He detailed for me the elaborate tattoos he was dreaming of getting.

TattoSleeveRolledUpS’s roommate was very much Mr. Machismo. I wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with the whole “gay thing.” There was just something about his attitude and the way he carried himself that I didn’t think he’d be too comfortable. I never formally came out to him, as I’d only met him a handful of times, but I assumed S clued him in. I was very pleasantly surprised just how cool he was with the whole “gay thing.” He turned out to be quite a laid back guy. It just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover.

The two quickly formed a bond. At some point in the conversation, the roommate started talking about his anxiety over having to fly the next. CK took it upon himself to aid in this situation.

AirplaneSeatImmediately, I was unhappy. My mood shifted abruptly. I shut down. I’ll never quite understand why I react in this way to these types of situations. I think it stems from striving to suppress my feelings at the moment so I don’t create a scene in public. The deeper question is why do I become so enraged in the first place?

This time, CK wasn’t exactly participating. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, however, aiding and abetting someone else’s wrongdoing was equally as bad in my mind. He was enabling behavior he knew I was opposed to. I wasn’t just feeling anger. I was scared. I was afraid I was going to lose him. We’d had this discussion time and time again. If we continued to have the conversation, eventually, he would be faced with an ultimate decision, and there was a chance I would be a casualty of that decision. All of my emotions tied back to this very thought. I was afraid in the end he wouldn’t choose me, and as a result, I would have to choose me. I’d have to say goodbye for my own sanity, facing my greatest fear in life, being alone, on top of losing a man I loved. Obviously, I never wanted it to come to that.

I managed to suppress this anger and feeling of betrayal. My mind was jumping back to all the other times we discussed this very topic. This was only exacerbated because I’d written the blog post about our night at Matinee that afternoon. One of those very conversations was fresh in my mind.

I managed to suppress all this until we walked in the door of my apartment, and then I unleashed. I told him how unacceptable his behavior was, and he was completely dumbfounded. He had no idea why I could be so enraged.

Angry BedOf course this only fed my fury. Had he forgotten all these other times we’d discussed this? Was I living a broken record? We argued extensively about this, and CK threatened to leave multiple times, making it to the door a handful of times.

We finally had a breakthrough at some point when he either feigned to understand my stance, or what I was so vehemently explaining finally sunk in.

We argued a lot about a lot of small things —Things I felt were very important. He felt I was trying to change him. I wasn’t. Honestly! I loved him. I just felt he needed to grow up in some aspects of his life. A person needs to adapt and evolve when entering a relationship, and I still wasn’t sure he was putting in the effort. I wasn’t trying to mold him into my ideal mate. I didn’t have a preconceived notion of who he should be. But, I felt there were some sacrifices he’d need to make to make me happy.

QuestioningManPerhaps I was the one who needed to change. In reality, we both needed to. Only time would tell if we could come to consensus on these types of issues.

Regardless, after fighting, we kissed and made up. Well, we more than made up. This was all followed by a lively romp in the sack. It was so incredible, we both finished at the same time for the first time. As we showered, we discussed our epic make-up sex. “And don’t think you can start picking fights with me just so we can have make-up sex buster,” I punctuated. We both had a good laugh.

No matter how much we fought, at the end of the day, I loved him. He made me happy. I loved that no matter how many times we fought, we always found a way to make up. I wanted to grow old with him, but the key word in that phrase for us would be grow…

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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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The Calm Before the Storm

CK and I had a rocky night, but before we laid our heads on the pillows, we reconciled our differences. There’s no fight we couldn’t get over. We were truly in love.

The next morning, I woke up early to work out with CK in his rooftop gym. It was our first time up there, and we were finally going to workout together, or at least we both thought so. It turned out, we had different ideas of working out. While CK was on his cleanse, I too was trying to lose weight. That was only going to happen for me if I did cardio workouts. Lifting wasn’t going to help me shed any pounds, and that was the priority over bulking up. He wasn’t willing to join me for cardio, and I wasn’t willing to lift, so we worked out at the same time on opposite ends of the gym. When he finished, I was nearly done my three-mile run, sweating profusely from head to toe. I wanted to take off my shirt and use it as a sweat rag, but I wasn’t sure if that was P.C. in his gym, and there were others working out as well. When I finished, we rode the elevator back down to his place so we could shower and get ready for work.

As per usual, we showered together. This had become a regular thing for us. We rarely showered alone anymore. We weren’t always making out or having sex in there: It just seemed a better use of both our time to shower together. We were beginning to work out a system between us. Our routine was falling into place.

The one thing I slightly resented when sleeping over at his apartment was the lack of breakfast. It was getting expensive for me to continuously purchase breakfast every time I slept there. I made sure to provide him with the necessary items for breakfast, but we hadn’t seemed to get to that stage at CK’s apartment. I wasn’t going to make a stink about that. One thing at a time. I was happy he finally had all his boxes unpacked and a bed to be honest. Breakfast could be dealt with down the road.

We got ready and were out the door. We’d also managed to figure out we could commute together to work. Originally, he was walking to a different subway than I was, but after further investigation, I learned we could both catch the necessary subways from the same station, and it would be the same distance for CK. Every morning we walked together and said goodbye with a kiss on the platform. It was a simple routine, but I was already thoroughly enjoying our morning walk to work together.

That night, CK had to work late. I went home and went to free outdoor yoga on the pier in Hoboken with my roommate instead of CK. We were spending the night apart. He had to be at work early the following morning for a pitch. When I got home from yoga, I made dinner, watched TV and fell asleep in my bed alone after chatting with CK about his day.

I woke up early the next morning feeling lost. The man I loved wasn’t there. It was shocking how much of a difference it made having him in my bed. I didn’t sleep nearly as well as I did when he was present. It was like I was an infant all over again missing my mother’s heartbeat. I needed to feel him close to me to get a good night’s sleep. I forced myself to get out of bed and motivated myself for a nice morning run along the Hudson. I stopped to take pictures for Instagram of the city where I knew my boyfriend was still soundly sleeping.

I ran back home, finished getting ready and stopped by the allergist for my shot before heading to work. I was really committing to getting in shape and losing weight, so that afternoon, I took lunch at the gym. I wanted a six-pack again, and I wanted shoulders, arms and pecs I could be proud of again. When I finished, I was in a spectacular mood. I shot CK a text to remind him how much I love him. I was also horny from the endorphins running through my veins. I started to sext him, telling him all the things I wished I could do to him in the gym shower.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. That’s always been a fantasy of mine, however, I never had any desire to do it with complete strangers. In an ideal world, CK and I would go to the same gym. We’d walk in together, but not acknowledge each other while we were in the gym working out. When he was finished, he would head into to the lockers to shower. He’d strip down in front of me, not acknowledging my existence before strutting to the shower of his choice. I would follow just behind and slip into his shower stall and close the curtain behind me. We’d have sex under the hot water without causing too much commotion to attract attention from others. After finishing inside him, I would rinse off and leave the shower like nothing happened. He would finished washing up and recovering from our tryst while I got dressed and headed home like nothing happened to start making dinner. He would follow a few minutes behind, and the first time we would acknowledge each other would be at the door where I’d welcome him home from a hard day’s work at the office with a big kiss. We’d eat our dinner with big smiles knowing we have an epic sex-life. Some day…

So in shorter terms, I described this situation to him over text. When I first began, he thought I meant to text someone else. He must have thought I was cheating on him with someone at the gym. I assured him the texts were for him and reminded him how the conversation begane explaining that this was my fantasy. I also pointed out the irony of the situation and detailed how he was the one who sexted the wrong person, not me (just like the first day we started chatting and he wanted me to come over for sex).

That night, I had plans to see Porgy and Bess with my coworker, so I didn’t see him again. I think he felt a bit left out, but I’d been coworkers with this girl for over five years, and the two of us had never hung out outside work together. I also had to head to our Chelsea office to work early in the morning. I took the opportunity of being off the radar a bit to hit the gym again that afternoon, this time for a run on the treadmill. I began thinking about CK and I in the gym once again, but it would remain a fantasy.

When I finished work, I went to my volleyball game, came home to shower and made my way into the city to spend the night in CK’s bed. We’d spent a decent amount of time apart considering we’d been spending every waking minute together outside our workdays. I was thrilled to see him and even more ecstatic I was sleeping with him that night. After a late-night romp, we dozed off in each other’s arms. When we woke in the morning, we hit the gym once again. Alas, we worked out on opposites sides of the gym once again.

When we finished, we continued our routine of getting ready for work and were out the door. That night, after work, I ran home and grabbed my things for the weekend. We had a big weekend coming up, and I had to pack for many different options. It was EXTREMELY frustrating because I wasn’t sure what we’d be doing, I wasn’t going to be home again until Sunday at the earliest, and it was Pride Weekend. I asked CK for help on what to pack, and he was of no use. The fight was quickly escalating over the phone, and my frustration level was at its peak. I wasn’t used to going to gay events and circuit parties, and I was feeling a lot of pressure. This was a burden I’d been carrying around for weeks, and the moment of truth was arriving. This was going to be my first full Pride Weekend, and I had no idea what I was about to get myself into. I was scared sh*tless!…

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Results Are In

It’d been a few days since CK and I got tested for STDs at the clinic. We had to wait for our results to come in. I am from the school of thought that believes there’s no use worrying. Worrying won’t change the results. So, from the moment I walked out the door of the clinic, I stopped thinking about it. I’d set a reminder in my phone to call when my results would be ready.

I had a busy day at work, so I had to put off calling until my workday calmed down. I found a private place to make the call and waited for the results with bated breath. I wasn’t particularly worried. Perhaps I should have been more worried. When we left the office, we both put reminders in our phones to call. Why hadn’t I heard from CK? Did he forget to call? Did he call and was afraid to share the news with me? The receptionist picked up the phone asking, “Please hold?” Apparently, we were going to drag this out as long as possible. When she finally came back to the phone, she asked for my name and what insurance provider I use. After giving her the information, I was put on hold once again. They really know how to up the drama — They should work for TNT.

Finally, she gave me my results. I was clean on all counts except one. I came back positive for Herpes Simplex Type I, aka cold sores. I’d had this since a child and “inherited” it like many Americans from my mother. This was not news to me. I was quite happy. I came back negative on all the heavy hitters — Chlamydia, Syphilis, Herpes Simplex Type II, Gonorrhea, HIV. Since CK and I had unprotected sex (yes I know how stupid we are), I assumed he would have good news to share as well. I texted him to ask him if he called yet.

I wasn’t expecting his response. He informed me that he did indeed call and received his results, but he wanted to talk in person. What could he need to talk to me in person about?! If I came back negative for all but cold sores, what could he need to discuss with me? Now, I was scared.

After work, we had plans to stay in the city. I left my office and walked to his apartment when he finished work. When he answered the door, he was in his underwear. He was about to hop in the shower just as I arrived. I gave him a big kiss and made myself comfortable while he freshened up. When he came out of the shower, we laid in bed together for a while – He in his towel and me fully dressed from work. I brought up the testing results, but he asked if we could talk about it later. I complied. After laying with each other, we got ready to go to dinner. It was getting to be about that time. We settled on a Greek place, Ethos, not far from his apartment we’d been to before. The food was good, so I wanted to go back.

We held hands while we walked there noticing dogs along the way. CK was still going on about how he wanted me to get a dog. I explained once again how I couldn’t handle one, nor did my lease allow for one. I told him, “When we live together, I will get a dog.” His eyes lit up as a smile spread across his face.

We shared a lovely and romantic dinner for two before heading back to his apartment for the night. I was impressed with myself for not bringing up the testing results sooner, but at this point, I had to ask. He was obviously holding something back. As we walked he told me a story about how he contracted oral herpes. In the middle of the story, I cut him off. I told him I was already positive for simplex I, and he had nothing to worry about. He was very confused. He didn’t understand how I was making light of this. He was actually quite miffed I wasn’t forthcoming with that portion of my results.

The way I saw it, I would bring it up when I had an outbreak. If he’d never been exposed to the virus or oral cold sores, we would prevent him from coming in contact with me, i.e. we would stop kissing until it went away. I really didn’t see it as a big deal. Lots of people get cold sores. In fact, 80% of adult Americans are infected with the virus. I’ve been fortunate not to have experienced them very often, but they do happen when I get too much sun or when my lips split in the winter. I could see the relief on his face and in his posture. For the first time all night, he relaxed.

It was at that moment we both celebrated our results. We stopped in the middle of the street to hug and exchange a giant kiss. At this point, he couldn’t wait to go home and have sex.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. That night, we had the best sex we’d had to date. It was incredibly passionate and incredibly raw. We had no worries and no cares. In the end, I finished inside him, and he finished inside me. It felt amazing. I’d never felt that before. I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive about it at first. I’d only ever finished inside one other guy before without a condom. I’d never allowed anyone to ejaculate inside me.

It didn’t feel like I thought it would. I imagined a lot more sensation than the actual moment, however, the act made me feel so much more. The emotions tied to the action added so much more to it. I truly felt loved by him, and I truly felt my love for him when I exploded my seed deep within him. I feel the need to say, this is not the deal that works for every couple. CK and I have spoken at length about this topic. We will continue to be tested on a regular basis, regardless of either of us feeling a “need” for it. We have made it part of our routine. We know there are risks any time you have unprotected sex, however, we have come to mutually trust each other and find comfort in that. I am in no way endorsing unprotected sex!

It’s incredible how much that simple act brought us closer together, but I think that night kind of sealed the deal for us (Pun not intended). We’d had passionate sex before, but I think that night was the first of many night we stopped having sex and started making love.

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A Child’s Plaything

A Thursday finally arrived where I didn’t have volleyball. I thought I would capitalize on this opportunity and do something with my night.

Southern Drawl was visiting home in the South, and I was in the process of dissolving things between he and I. Slowly but surely, I would draw back communications until it was over. I had a great date night with the Jersey City athlete the night before, and only time would tell where that was headed.

That left Middle Eastern. Things between he and I had become purely physical. I liked him, but I was not interested in a relationship with him. He was still in college and apparently entertaining other offers. We had chatted about us over text. He said, “I was just keeping my distance because I am getting too attached to you. And I don’t know what’s happening between us. It sucks because I miss you. Have you slept with someone else in the past week?” I said no. I lied because in truth I had slept with S.D., however, we didn’t have sex. “So what’s happening between us. I get nervous when I think about it. I have an amazing time every time I see you. I don’t want to get stuck in the just friends phase,” he stated.

I had been waiting for this question for some time. I told him, “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve taken things too fast in the past, and I’m trying to get away from that.” I was being honest now. I didn’t know what we were. We were both on the same page that we enjoyed each other’s company, and we were having fun together in bed. He would send me scandalous picture messages of himself and tell me how much he wanted to see me. I’d put him on the back-burner for a little bit since he grew quite attached. We also went through the Grindr thing, so I wanted things to cool down. He added, “I honestly still don’t know how you feel about me. I’m not asking you to be in a relationship or anything. I know you’ve told me where you stand.” I reassured him, “Just taking it one day at a time and enjoying it along the way. I like you, and if I didn’t, I’d have moved on a long time ago.  He responded, “I’m enjoying this too. I don’t know. Like it’s a little hard because I wanna have fun, but in my mind, I have fun and emotions kind of together. So, it’s hard for me to say I’m not emotionally attached to you in any way. So I just get a little scared because I thought you’re going to move on when you get bored with me.”

I explained further, “I never said I wasn’t emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this is, but I can assure you it’s more than just sex!” He apologized for being a head-case, and we began to discuss our plans for the evening.

That being said, I did want to be with him. He was great in bed, and it had been some time since I last had sex. I texted him to see what he was up to. “Busy tonight?” I texted. He was still in class, but he had plans to come to Hoboken later that evening. I told him, “So I take it you met someone else…” He adamantly denied meeting someone else and told me he would possibly be able to swing by after class. “Maybe I can sneak out. I really want to see you,”he added. We continued to talk over text trying to make plans to see each other. I didn’t really fit into his plans that evening, but he was making an effort. He got me horny, and I sent him some of my sexier pictures. He responded, “No, no. Don’t do this to me! I’m in class, and I’m wearing tight pants!” I laughed at the thought and continued to send more pictures.

Eventually, he had to bail on coming to see me before going out with his friends in Hoboken. I had been sitting on the couch waiting for him and was quite disappointed. “I hate disappointing you,” he shot back. I simply sent him another sexy picture. He told me he would sneak away from his friends and come see me at some point. When 9:30 rolled around, I sent him a text telling him to have a fun night. Around 11:00, I texted him again. “Wish I didn’t get my hopes up, ” I added for dramatic effect. He apologized, but I was already quite disappointed and ready to move on from him.

He texted the following day to let me know he was using my picture to pleasure himself. I didn’t respond. He told me he would swing by the previous night, and he didn’t deliver. I sat at home alone on the couch in hopes he’d come, and he never did. I was angry with myself for getting so caught up in him. I decided I needed to move on from him. My roster was now cut down to one single possibility.

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My Adult Book Report

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. It is of a sexual nature. Proceed with caution!

A few months ago, the fine folks at Tickle Kitty approached me. It seems bestselling author and sex educator, Dr. Sadie Allison published her fifth book, Tickle My Tush: Mild-to-Wild Analplay Adventures for Everybooty. They offered to send me her latest paperback that helps men and women learn the true pleasures of the under-explored “seat of love” for review on my blog.

I enthusiastically accepted the offer, and anxiously awaited its arrival in the mail. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting myself into, but how bad could it be? I’m gay. If I had an aversion to anal play, I’d be a very lonely man the rest of my life. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from the book as well.

I wasn’t the only one anxiously awaiting my new book. My roommates were also waiting with bated breath to see what the book was all about. When it finally arrived, we all passed it around paging though to see what exciting new tips we could learn.  After we’d all had our fun like immature high school students in the locker room, I took the book back and began reading it.

Tickle My Tush is a light-hearted fun look at anal sex for mainly heterosexual couples, however, a homosexual man can learn a lot from this book. Dr. Sadie covers a lot of material in this quick read — The 14 chapters of this book cover everything from safety and heinie hygiene to toys, strap-ons, and positions of pleasure. And, Dr. Sadie takes a light-hearted approach by using playful language instead of some complicated medical jargon no one understands or uses.

This book does a wonderful job removing the stigma from anal play/sex. I can think back to when I was first experimenting with homosexuality, I wanted nothing to do with anal play. I watched it in porn, and it really just seemed like something I didn’t need. I could think of many other things I could do to satisfy my sexual urges. It was something I saw as overwhelming and uncomfortable. Frankly, I was scared of it. If you find yourself in that position, reading this book will answer a lot of the questions and will clear up a lot of the misconceptions you may have.

What I really like about this book is that it pushes straight men to open their minds and their bottoms to the idea of anal play with their female sex partners. I enjoy sex, and even as a “top,” I enjoy many of the pleasures my bottom has to offer. Having your prostate stimulated for the first time is a mind-altering experience. Many straight men don’t realize the potential their bottoms have for pleasure. I would hope books like these remove the stigma and open their minds to anal play. This book also removes the stigma for women to explore. It takes away the idea that enjoying anal sex makes you dirty or a slut. It’s simply exploring all the pleasures you body has to offer.

As you read, the book certainly gets more adventurous. It starts with safety, hygiene, anatomy and the basics and moves through finger, oral, genital, toy and strap-on pleasures.

One of my favorite chapters is 6: Sensual Booty Massage. It has always been something I’ve enjoyed. “As an often overlooked erogenous zone, those two cheeks are always eager for sensual arousal from kneading, squeezing, kissing, licking, spanking, gentle biting, father-light touching — or simply calming moments of warm-handed stillness. Why stop at the cheeks? Lustily arousing the hips, waist, small of the back, inner thighs and A-spot can add thrilling new dimensions to your lovemaking.” Some are tried and true methods I’ve been using forever, and some are a few new methods I’m dying to try.

Some of Dr. Sadie’s advise is spot on! One of my favorite parts of the book acknowledge the problem I have relaxing during sex. It’s the root of my inability to climax at times. Her best advice — UN-focus.

This book is a great read for the anal play beginner. I can think back to the guy who inserted himself with great force inside me with no preparation whatsoever. I ran out of the room in pain. I can think of the virgin who allowed me to penetrate him for the first time and how scared he was until he learned how much he loved being penetrated. I’ve been with a few newbies in my days, and there is a lot they can learn from this book. On top of it all, the illustrations that ensue are purely erotic. I think they are my favorite part of the book!

There are a few things in the book I disagree with on some level. For instance. in regard to the question, “Do you really need an enema before anal sex?” Dr. Sadie says no. But, after a few of my own horrific experiences, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT.

Overall, I must say, I didn’t learn a whole lot from this book I didn’t already know. That is because the first guy I slept with was a very good teacher, and I have a curious mind that has been satiated by experimentation. But, not everyone is as lucky as I am. If I had this book from the start, it certainly would have made for many less awkward situations. The thing I most learned from the book was anatomy. In fact, I often refer back to it to make sure I am giving my man the most pleasure I am capable of.

Dr. Sadie does an excellent job giving you the basic tools you need to be confident, succeed in anal play in the bedroom and know you can enjoy the untapped pleasures your bottom holds. She gives you invaluable tips that help get you in tune with your partner. She answers a lot of the embarrassing/uncomfortable things that may arise with anal play so that when you encounter them in the bedroom, you can proceed past them without the interrupting the fun. So buy it — Read it — And for heaven’s sake, try out all the new things you learn with someone you feel truly comfortable with. You’d be surprised what exciting new experiences you can unlock.

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A Perfect Weekend

PR and I had a lovely dinner and topped out night off with a scary movie marathon. When we were sufficiently scared and tired, we went to bed.

I purposely turned off my alarm that night because there was nothing pressing to wake up for in the morning. We could sleep in and enjoy each other’s company in my uber comfortable bed.

I liked sleeping with PR. We snuggled and cuddled before finally dozing off. He didn’t wake me throughout the night with tossing and turning like so many others do. We slept well together. Of course, in the morning, we shared more than just cuddling or spooning.  There was still plenty of snuggling, but things escalated to a new level with the discovery of his matching morning libido. We didn’t have “sex,” as in we didn’t have penetration, but we did just about everything else.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. While our mouths went wild exploring every inch of each other’s bodies while our hands enjoyed the touch of skin in symphony. I was constantly lingering at his back door as well. I was testing his limits. I wanted to see how comfortable he was with me back there.

He even mentioned his interest in bottoming for me, but it wasn’t going to happen immediately. He needed to warm up to it first; rightfully so, considering it’d been years since someone penetrated him. I was willing to be patient. I was just concerned that it would happen at all. His willingness to play ball in down the road was reassuring.

It was late when we finally motivated ourselves to get out of bed. I think it was our grumbling stomachs that finally inspired us to make moves. I cooked us another breakfast while he sat on the island chatting with me. I was getting used to having him around, and I liked it. He was a very caring and sweet guy — A hopeless romantic much like myself.

After we ate breakfast, we cuddled a lot on the couch. I was still horny from the morning romp and started to get frisky, pulling down his shorts and exposing his ass. He was getting a little bashful since we were in front of my apartment widows with the street below, but chances are no one was able to see him. At one point, I even completely removed his shorts. It was cute watching his bashful squirm. I was starting to get off on it.

We decided to go to the gym, so we finally picked ourselves up off the couch and went to the bedroom to get ready for the day (now that it was about 3:00). Of course we didn’t simply get changed and head to the gym. We got frisky once again as I pulled him onto the bed. He certainly wasn’t complaining.

My motivation to have bigger biceps finally overtook my sexual desires, and I suggested we finally get ready for the gym.  He went home to change, and I got dressed. He was starting to take a long time, so I told him I’d just see him there — I was on my way.

I nearly finished my workout before he arrived. It was slightly awkward cause I wanted to kiss him when I saw him, but I didn’t want to make a scene. We had plans to go to a Super Bowl party together, so I told him I was going to head home to shower and get ready. I implored him not to doddle since I didn’t want to arrive at the party after the start of the game. He assured me he’d be ready in time.

Once again, he was running behind, but after hopping in a cab, we arrived at the party just in time for kickoff. A lot of my friends were there, so I introduced him to everyone. This was going to be a test. He would he interact with my friends? Would he be outgoing? Would they like him? I care a lot about what my friends think of the guy I’m dating. I was trying out a new strategy this time around. I was introducing him to them much sooner than guys past.

The whole time, I sat next to him on the couch watching the game, I wanted to hold his hand or have him sit in front of me in my arms, but it wasn’t that kind of party. I would keep my hands to myself. I wanted to jump his bones the whole time we were there. I was showing restraint however.

When the game ended, we walked home with D. The majority of the second half, I kept expressing my desire for cake, so we decided to stop at the A&P and grab something. D got some cake as well, and since he lived nearby, we made a pit stop at his place to relieve our bladders and snag a bite of his cake.

PR came back to my apartment to share the carrot cake I bought for us. While we walked, he asked me the most forward question any guy on a date has ever asked me: “Have you ever had any STDs?” I paused for a moment in shock. I indeed did, and it was an embarrassing story. I wanted to know if he equally shared in my shame before I would volunteer that information. He told me he did, so I explained the time I contracted chlamydia. He then recounted the story of the time he got crabs. It was a bizarre but interesting conversation.

While we ate cake, we discussed zodiac signs. We looked up each of ours and checked the compatibility. I don’t believe in that sort of thing, but it was fun and something to pass the time. We moved things to the couch to relax and discussed everything. I told him about all my exs and he told me about all his. We sat there talking until we realized it was 2:00am. I asked him if he was going to stay the night, and he graciously accepted.

Sleeping with him just felt so right. I was happy to have him there. He was a good guy, and I was really enjoying his company. I liked where this was going, but his future was a little uncertain. He was applying for numerous jobs and attempting to figure out a more permanent living solution. For the meantime, we were meshing so well, and I was enjoying every minute of it.

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Caution

A recent article in the local morning paper has me a little worried and a little scared. Suddenly I’m reevaluating some life choices… See for yourself…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I need to be more careful. You never know who you are inviting into your home. Ugh, I can be stupid sometimes. I promise to be back on schedule come Monday (with some extra posts).

 

 

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Goodbye to a Closer Long-Distance Friend

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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