Posts Tagged shirtless

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After an arduous morning dealing with a nasty hangover and an overly energetic Hip, CK and I managed to finally emerge from our hibernation. But, not before we washed away the stink from the night before.

CK and I have been saving the planet for months now. Whenever we showered, we conserved water by showering together. We helped each other ensure all our crevices were clean. We brushed our teeth and got ready to face the world outside.

We decided to head toward Central Park, but we never quite made it there. Put an establishment like Shake Shack in front of three hungover guys who love to eat, and the rest of the world disappears immediately. We hopped in line and discussed at length all the food we were going to consume. Shakes, fries, burgers… The works! As we were paying, CK suggested we take our food to go and enjoy it outside. Hip and I agreed. When our food was ready we grabbed our shakes and sucked them down like someone might steal them.

We were out the door headed straight to Rockefeller Center. It was actually shaping up to be a nice day. We sat on the benches in front of 30 Rock Center and watched the tourists while we ate. In true CK fashion, he found a group of Spanish-speaking women who were visiting and needed help getting everyone in the group shot. I was simply happy to be out and about in the sunshine rather than being cooped up in CK’s apartment. It was a good distraction. Surprisingly, it was actually helping me get over my massive hangover. That, and the greasy burger and fries and a milkshake. While I was slowly getting over my hangover, I wasn’t quite getting over the night before. I suppose I was putting on a decent face, but deep down inside, I was hurting. I was appalled by how CK treated me after dating for three months.

When we finished eating, CK explored all of Rockefeller Center taking pictures as he moved along. Hip recently had hip replacement surgery, and he was starting to feel it. I kept him company as we sat playing Where’s Waldo in the crowd of people to find CK. When he circled back around, I hinted to him that we should go so Hip could get off his feet. He still had to head back to Brooklyn as well.

On the walk home, CK proposed we try to go to the concert again. I wasn’t so sure I was up for it. I told him we’d discuss it when Hip left since he already expressed his lack of interest in trying to go again.

When it was just the two of us again, we discussed things. Like I said, I still wasn’t quite over the night before, even if we did discuss it that morning and fooled around. When I got it all off my chest, we discussed the concert that night. CK was scheming to get in some way, shape or form. He was hoping to sweet-talk the ticket collectors into letting us in. I told him I would go, but I made no promises how long I would stay, and in full disclosure, I told him I certainly wouldn’t be the most energetic with the effects of my hangover still lingering.

We got ready and made our way to Terminal 5. When we got to the door, CK did all the talking, but it was no use. They weren’t feeling sympathetic at all. The person in line behind us, however, was. While CK was busy sweet-talking, I began chatting with the guy behind us in line. He asked if we needed tickets, and when I explained what happened, he offered us his two extra tickets at no charge. CK was still arguing with the ticket collectors when I finally got him to shut up. I handed them our tickets, and we walked in the door. CK had the most confused look on his face as I explained what happened. We immediately thanked the guy in line over and over and over again. It was truly a generous gesture — A serendipitous moment.

We made our way inside and both grabbed waters from the bar before finding a spot to watch the concert amongst the crowd. Our luck was really turning around, and CK was being extra sweet. It was like night and day from the previous night. I think it was then that I was beginning to forgive him.

When the concert started, I got a little more energy from the crowd. I suppose it was a little infectious. We danced shirtless and laughed and had a good time. Scissor Sisters really do put on a good show. They’re one of the most genuine bands I’ve ever seen perform. You could tell they were having as much fun as the crowd was. This was the final night on the final stop of their tour, and they played it out. There were even points where CK was on my shoulders with me jumping up and down. At one point, CK cut through the crowd like a razor to get to the stage as Jake Shears began crowd-surfing. He came back incredibly excited he touched his hand.

Throughout the night, there were guys aggressively grinding up on my a$$, but I ignored them. However, they started getting a bit more aggressive and overt. I didn’t need this. I was there with my man, and this was quite obvious for all to see. I gently pushed back and then took a big step forward so they could clumsily lose their balance and fall backward. After a few rounds of this, they got the hint I wasn’t interested nor a poll to rub their a$$ on.

At one point, I noticed the assistant of the guy I dated ever so briefly before meeting CK. It was a bit awkward after all. Things didn’t exactly end on good terms there. I avoided eye contact, but as he was leaving, he stopped to say hi. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. I was glad to see he could separate himself from his boss’s issues. That being said, Monday morning, I’m sure he was right back at the office saying, “You’ll never believe who I saw last night!”

When the concert was over, CK was raring to go and wanted to go to a bar. I was spent. I barely made it through the whole concert. I could tell he was disappointed, but he did a good job of hiding it as he took me home. I was happy to see the CK I knew and fell in love with again. When we got back to his place, I was still feeling a bit of the infectious energy from the crowd, and CK was still in concert mode. We stripped down to get ready for bed, but instead of falling asleep, we had the most epic sex we’d ever had to date. It was incredible! It was exactly what we needed. All our frustrations and cares were gone. It was a bit mind-blowing. It was passionate love-making at its best. It was all there, and I was truly happy again.

After our epic romp in the sheets, it was time for bed. We had plans for the following day, and we both had a very long and eventful weekend already. With that, we turned out the lights, and I fell asleep with CK nestled in my arms.

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Small Expectations, XL Frustrations

For weeks upon weeks, I stressed about Pride Weekend, and it finally arrived. CK wasn’t helping, and it exploded into an argument over the phone, culminating in a temper tantrum on my part.

We were finally able to come to an agreement, and I went back to packing a bag. Needless to say, I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the weekend ahead of me, but my nerves were slightly calmed after my chat with CK.

I made the voyage into the city to head to CK’s apartment. The plan was to head to XL that night. I’m not quite sure why, but none of CK’s friends were joining us that night. We had plans to hang with some of them the following day/night, but we were on our own for XL. I would have preferred to have more familiar faces around me in such an unfamiliar place, but that wouldn’t be the case. I got dressed with a little help from CK, but of course this turned into a bit of a heated discussion. Our nerves were very exposed, and he was encouraging me to expand my wardrobe comfort zone further than I was ready to. I wanted to fit in, but I still wanted to stay true to myself. I didn’t want to dress like everyone else there, however, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t stand out.

As we walked there, I was very quiet. CK and I were holding hands as we walked the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but all I could think about was how I could make myself feel comfortable in this foreign land. As we approached the entrance, there were gay men in every direction. I felt reasonably comfortable with my wardrobe choice and laughed to myself a little at some of the ridiculous outfits. I know this is going to come off as if I saw myself as better than them, but quite the opposite. I give them a lot of credit for feeling so comfortable in their own skin that they dress the way they do, but I could never pull it off. I would feel too uncomfortable and self-conscious, and then I’m absolutely no fun to be around. That was one of my main worries going into this weekend — I would feel uncomfortable, clam up, and I would be no fun to be with.

The cross-dressing boy checked our IDs, and we made our way inside to pay the cover charge. CK had some kind of VIP card and encouraged me to sign up for one with one of the boys holding iPads for just that thing. We paid, and I was a little shocked how expensive the cover was just to get in. Obviously, it was cheaper for CK since he was a member, but overall I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t aware of any talent performing that would justify the rate being so high.

As we made our way inside, I needed a drink bad! There were men in every direction, half without shirts on already. This wasn’t my kind of place. I liked the run-down pubs where the bartenders knew my name and they played good music. This, on the other hand, was a scene. We made our way to the bar and ordered drinks from a shirtless bartender who made me feel I needed to go to the gym immediately. I downed my first drink pretty quickly. The only way I would survive this would be with some help from some special spirits.

We made our way down to the dance-floor and started dancing and grinding with each other in front of the fog machine. I’m not sure why we didn’t relocate. At one point, I couldn’t breath, let alone see CK in front of me, and his back was pressed against my chest. Directly in front of me was a feast for the eyes. There were go-go boys dancing on the stage wearing very skimpy briefs. Some of the guys had the most gorgeous bodies with cute smiles, and it was hard to divert my attention at times. I even received a text from my old roommate asking me if I wanted to go out. I responded telling him where I was, and he jokingly responded reprimanding me for not inviting him. That’s when I responded with a picture message, to which he said, “Okay. Never mind. I’m good.”

I wasn’t the only one on his phone throughout the evening. CK was on his phone a lot when we were together, so this was nothing out of the ordinary, however, I wasn’t aware of the plans he was making over text. Minutes before he walked through the door, CK informed me the guy from his old building he used to hook up with would be joining us. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. I can be very reasonable, but the idea of hanging out with one of CK’s old hookups didn’t thrill me. It also didn’t exactly seem on the up-and-up since he waited until he was walking through the front door to tell me he was joining us.

When he arrived, CK gave him, who we’ll call Old News, a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was thrilled to see him. I swallowed my pride and extended a hand to shake his. From then on, and for quite some time, CK and Old News were deep in conversation. I felt like a third wheel in my own relationship.

We began to make our way to the bar to get another round. CK and Old News walked ahead of me, and as I climbed the stairs, a guy extended his arm out to shove me out of his way as he passed me. It was so obvious my mind flashed back to my days on the basketball court in junior high. He wasn’t being subtle at all. He was also messing with the wrong guy at the wrong time. I wasn’t about to let this little sh*t get away with it. I was already on edge on so many levels. I gave him a solid shove back in the opposite direction, so much that he stumbled down a stair. When his glance came back up to meet mine, I looked at him in a way of saying, “Go ahead. Bring it! What you got?” Me being 6′ 2″ and him being about 5′ 7″, he immediately turned and walked the other way.

When I got to the bar, of course CK and Old News were ordering and didn’t quite notice I was lagging behind. I understand the need to catch up, but I felt I had no part in the conversation. After I was handed my drink, I felt so outside the conversation, I simply walked away and stood at the railing overlooking the dance-floor. It took CK quite some time to even notice I’d stepped away.

From then on, Old News was attached to us. When we went to the bathroom, he came. When we danced, the circle was opened up to him. I didn’t think we would ignore him for the rest of the night, but I felt like he always made sure to put himself between myself and CK. I was shocked and  happy to say, I was actually having a great time with CK before he arrived. We were dancing shirtless and taking pictures in front of the fog machine and on stage. I finally felt comfortable in this new setting. I was no longer concerned with anyone else’s eyes on me. My only slight concern was CK’s eyes on anyone else. My whole mood went to sh*t the minute this intruder arrived. I wasn’t just dealing with being at the club anymore — I was having fun, but now I was back to being miserable again. I tried to be cordial with him, but I was not happy with his presence. He and CK hooked up at one point, and while CK assured me they were just friends, I was never quite sure Old News fully got that memo. I could tell he still had feelings for CK. He was very flirtatious, and took every opportunity to exclude me when possible.

In the middle of the night, a crazy drag queen named Ebonee Excell came out and performed. It was a welcome distraction. When the go-go boys came back out on stage, I recognized one of them from the Meet Me at the Ice Cream Truck music video.

Finally, our night was coming to an end. We were ready to head home. CK was hungry for sex, so we said our goodbyes to Old News and made our way back to CK’s bed. Old News may have garnered CK’s attention throughout the night, but in the end, I got to go home with him. He was my man! But, neither of us were quite expecting what was to come next…

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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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High Anxiety

After my amazingly awful date with CK, we went home and went to bed. Waking up the next day with him in my bed was my true heaven. Not a day went by I didn’t appreciate waking up next to him, whether in his bed or my own. We were growing inseparable, however, that night we would spend apart.

When we woke, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Since we didn’t have sex the night before when we got home, we were both particularly horny. Our sex was becoming so much more than sex. We started making love. We started becoming one. This was something completely new to me. I have had sex with more than a handful of guys, but I never felt the connection CK and I have in the bedroom. We share a strong unbreakable bond as a couple, but when we’re making love, it feels like we could move mountains.

We spent the morning being lazy. That night, I was taking my roommate to J’s wedding. I’d planned to take her before I even met CK. Part of me wanted to pull her aside and ask if she minded if I took CK instead, but another part of me wasn’t sure I was ready for that. I wanted to be ready for that, but it was a big step. Just thinking about it, I could feel the eyes of the people around the room watching us — The two ‘mos dancing up a storm. I know I shouldn’t care about that. I know I need to get used to that, but I wasn’t quite sure I was ready yet.

We watched a few episodes of Game of Thrones while I got ready for the wedding. When the time came for me to head out with my roommate, I had a conversation with CK about his plans for the night. He was planning to hit up a circuit party. I was incredibly uneasy about this. I’d never been, but from the pictures and the stories I’d heard from others, as well as from CK’s own mouth, I was very apprehensive about the whole idea. I trusted CK, but then again, I didn’t. We’d only known each other two short months. Who’s to say he wouldn’t pop X and grind up on some guy all night? Who’s to say he wouldn’t fool around with said guy in the bathroom? Who’s to say he wouldn’t go home with said guy? We were growing very close, but I had no idea how CK would react to the temptations placed in front of him. All these thoughts, and many more, were swarming in my head. But, in spite of all this, I tried to be cool. I had to learn to trust CK. My baggage was not his fault. I would never tell him I didn’t want him to go without me. Hell, I didn’t even want to go myself, even if I was available. It would purely be his decision, however, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be a nervous wreck about the whole thing.

When the time came to say goodbye, I simply gave him some parting words gently expressing my concern. “Behave tonight,” I added. “What does that mean?” he asked. I simply just repeated myself. He knew what it meant, but he wanted me to prescribe for him exactly where the line was drawn. The thought of him in another man’s arms made my heart palpitate and beat uncontrollably. It gave me incredible anxiety to picture him sweaty and shirtless with his tongue in another man’s mouth. I wouldn’t be there to hold him back, and my imagination was running wild to fill in the blanks. Because of this, and because I didn’t want to seem psycho to him, he would have to define behaving. It didn’t instill confidence in my mind when he asked me “Well, what exactly is naughty?” If he had to ask, there was a good chance he’d cross the threshold of my comfort zone. I feared for the life of my relationship with CK. I was jealous of faceless men, and he hadn’t even walked in the door.

When I commit to a relationship, I commit fully to it. There are no other guys for me. That doesn’t go to say I don’t notice/admire a hot guy walking by, but I won’t ever act on my admiration. I won’t smile at him or wink. I’ll simply admire him as a gorgeous specimen of a man. I have had my transgressions in the past, but I have learned from these mistakes. I have committed to my man, and he is who I am with. This is incredibly frustrating because I have a very traditional view of a relationship, and the majority of other gay men have quite the opposite. To many of them, boyfriend just means the guy the spend more of their time with than the other guys they see/have sex with. I digress…

Between my regret of not taking him and his going to what I equate to a rave without me, I was an anxious nervous wreck. I kissed him goodbye as we dropped him off at the PATH to head back into the city. My roommate and I sped off to the wedding location and arrived just in time.

It was a gorgeous ceremony and the reception was a blast! I nearly cried watching J tear up as his gorgeous bride walked up the aisle. I pictured myself in his shoes with CK coming to meet my arm and knew I would be a complete mess. I tear up now just writing about it. There were parallels between this wedding and my relationship with CK as well. It was a marriage between a white bread dude and a Puerto Rican fireball (CK is Cuban). For instance, the ceremony was bilingual, as I imagine a ceremony between CK and I would be.

After one of the toasts, I even sent CK a text saying “Te amo con todo mi corazón.” (I love you with all my heart). I was really missing him and wished he was by my side.

When the time came to head home from the wedding, I said my goodbyes and reveled in the love and joy I witnessed between J and his wife. I hoped I would get to the blissful place they were someday. In the car on the way to the hotel, I called CK. I figured he’d already be at the circuit party or wasted or high, but I needed to try. As the phone rang, all my anxiety rose back to the surface. I certainly was not prepared for what was about to happen next…

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A Night Off

CK and I had been spending a lot of time together. That’s what happens when you’re in love. But, that also means there’s a transition period where one goes from being single to being in a relationship. This transition takes some finesse. When you’re as used to being as independent as I was, it’s a serious adjustment.

I was used to working out on my own schedule. I would watch whatever TV I wanted whenever I wanted. I would go to bed when I was tired and wake up when I wanted. I would make dinner and not have to worry about catching a train to go see someone. That doesn’t go to say I wasn’t happy. Quite the contrary. It’s amazing the amount of free time I had by not hunting for a man all the time. I had an amazing man who loved me. Who could ask for more?

Wednesday morning, I woke up in CK’s bed by the sound of my alarm. I reach across him to grab it from the charger and turn it off. It’s safe to say, at that point, we were both awake, however, we were both incredibly groggy. It was hard to wake up. It’s also safe to say, with my libido, I was horny. After a few permutations of snuggling configurations, we started escalating the cuddling. This turned into grinding which led to sex.

This wasn’t exactly a quickie either. We had sex for quite some time. So much that it made us both late for work. We quickly showered and got ready to get out the door. It’s not the easiest to get ready with CK either since he’s such a distraction. I catch a glimpse of his sexy body out of the corner of my eye, and I can’t help myself. I find the gravitational pull too strong to resist, and I quickly find him in my arms with my lips traversing his neck. When he asked me what we were doing that evening, I gently pulled him away and suggested we take a night apart. “Don’t take this the wrong way! I’m not sick of you, nor am I trying to put distance in here. I just need to do my own thing tonight. I want to go for a run and do all the boring things you need to do in life that I don’t feel the need to put you through. Is that cool?” “Yea. I guess that’s fine,” he responded. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, so I explained how a little distance may be good for us. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I added while explaining how I was shocked I actually hadn’t grown tired of him. In the end, he agreed it was probably a good idea.

We finally made our way out the door, and he walked me to my office. I said goodbye to him with a big kiss since we were planning to take the night off.

After work, I made my way home. I took some things out of the freezer to make for myself for dinner. I was trying to eat healthier and work out more. I was starting to get pudgy again. I wanted to look hot for my man. On top of this, NYC Pride weekend was a month away. I couldn’t look like a fat mess. It was safe to say I’d be dragged somewhere I’d have to take my shirt off. I would already feel uncomfortable the way it was. Having to take my shirt off in a crowded bar would only make it more stressful.

I put on running shorts and my shoes and took off into the hot night shirtless to run along the waterfront. I felt great. It’d been a while since I worked out like that. I missed it and needed to get back to it. My body needed it too. Every song I heard made me think of Clark Kent. They made me miss him, but they also made me wonder what he was up to. Since I was still carrying around some light luggage, I have to admit I was a little worried CK may be engaged in some extra curricular activities. He gave me no real reason not to trust him, but I couldn’t quite get passed the fact I met him on Grindr. I know how I was on Grindr. I know how I’d cheated on N because of my suspicions he was cheating on me (which were rooted in fact, but still not excusable what I did). There was a small shadow of doubt in the back of my mind. In time, I would learn to fully trust him, but I was still a little broken from my previous experiences with Grindr guys.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I had nothing to do but run and think. This is why I don’t do well alone. I crawl up into my head and start causing problems. I even paused to take a picture of the Empire State Building in the NYC skyline to post to Instagram. I tagged him in the picture and sent it out to my Twitter followers. Just when I was missing CK the most, my phone started ringing. I was in the middle of my run and came to a screeching halt. I picked up, and we chatted a bit. It was very reassuring to me he wasn’t up to no good. He wanted to let me get back to my run, but I wanted to talk some more. I was happy to hear the sound of his voice. I told him how it was a dumb idea to take a night apart, but it did help me realize just how much I love him. I didn’t even want to spend one night away from him.

He asked me to send him a picture of me all sweaty and shirtless, but I declined. Instead, I dug into my pictures on my phone and sent him a sexy picture from there after we hung up. We said goodbye, and I continued on my run home.

I do find it’s necessary for parties in a couple to do their own thing sometimes. I had a lot of friends I hadn’t seen in some time because I was spending a lot of time with CK alone. I didn’t want to be one of those people who gets into a relationship and falls off the face of the earth. It was a delicate balance I needed to figure out. I hadn’t had many relationships over the span of my life, so this aspect was a bit new to me, however, I would figure it out. I had plenty of love to go around for all since CK made me the happiest man on the planet.

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Glued to the Bed

Waking up with one of the sexiest men I’d ever met, Clark Kent, in my arms would make any morning spectacular. On top of that, I had no obligations to fulfill that day. It was Saturday, and I was ready to lounge around. Sure I had plans to go to the gym and grocery store, but that would wait until much later. Right then, there was a gorgeous specimen of a man in my bed, and I wasn’t going to let him go to waste.

I cuddled and snuggled with him. It was finally 11:00am when I was conscious enough to remain awake for more than a few seconds to shift our spooning positions. I don’t think there was a moment we weren’t in contact with each other throughout the night. Even when we were sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, my hand was on his thigh.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke, things started slow and progressed rather quickly. We were both naked before we knew it. Eventually, we found ourselves in a familiar position. I had my face buried in his backside. He always derived great pleasure from this, and I wasn’t shy about delivering. I even pulled out some of the tricks I learned in the Tickle My Tush book once again. Oral penetration eventually led to full penetration. He felt amazing, and I was not in any hurry to stop. Every thrust was better than the last, however, whenever I slowed the pace to both give myself a break and to enjoy the friction, he would protest, “DON’T STOP!” I picked the pace back up again and pushed as deep as I could go. He let out constant moans of pleasure, this time at a decent volume until he needed to stop to catch his breath.

He immediately turned over to face me with a look of exhaustion/excitement in his eyes. “Baby! You feel AMAZING!” he exclaimed. I dove on top of him and began to kiss him passionately. I told him how great he felt as well between zealous kisses. I took his legs and lifted them high and began to penetrate him again. It felt incredible. When I finally stopped, he said, “I love when you take me from behind, but this way… I dunno. You just hit the spot every time!”

We laid intertwined with each other enjoying the moment. We had great sexual chemistry. It had been such a long time since I’d shared that on top of chemistry outside the bedroom. Standard issue seemed to be one or the other as of late. CK was the full package.

After considerable amounts of cuddling, he climbed on top of me while I arched my back and gave him everything he wanted. I knew that morning my roommate’s friend slept over. I’d already heard them up and talking. I was a bit reserved in my morning romp with CK out of slight embarrassment. While I didn’t care if they knew I was having sex, I didn’t want to be overly loud about it. I buried my face in the pillow and let out my grunts and moans through a heavy down filter. When the moment hit, he pulled out and finished on my back.

Most straight women don’t understand this, but when a guy finishes on you, it can be incredibly hot, not something to turn your nose up at. It is a sign that you truly excite them. For me it’s validation, and it’s an incredible aphrodisiac. Many times, seeing a guy shoot is what it takes for me to finish as well. He asked where I kept the towels, but I was incapable of words. Only grunts came out. I tried with all my might to use my arm to reach down to my nightstand drawer, but no matter how much I concentrated, I could not move. I finally gave in and just lay there accepting defeat. “I’m glued to the bed,” I told him. “You will be glued if you roll over onto your back,” he added through a laugh. My body was in full orgasm. After about ten minutes, I regained composure and handed him a towel to wipe my back.

We rotated and lay in each other’s embrace. I was enjoying everything about him. He was witty. He was fun and adventurous. He was smart. He was incredibly sexy. Most of all he was passionate and caring. He was exactly what I needed – Exactly what I was looking for. We enjoyed the embrace for some time before he finally began orally pleasuring me – One of his favorite activities.

This time it felt amazing. I closed my eyes and concentrated on how good it felt. I imagined penetrating him and his mouth being his insides. It felt amazing. I thought about how good it would feel to explode inside of him, and that’s when it finally happened. I gave out a warning, and began to explode like a fountain. CK was greatly excited by this and took advantage. “Wow! You really weren’t kidding. Hidden talent indeed,” he added. I simply smiled and began giggling from his gentle touch tickling me.

I was so incredibly relieved. I’d finally finished with him. I didn’t want him to take it personally or worse, think I was broken. I told him early on of my issue, but he seemed to be quite understanding of it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t bring it up periodically, further stressing me on the issue, but regardless, I finished and made him happy.

We made our way to the shower, where the fun only continued. We quickly found ourselves back in bed together sans clothing or towels. We just lay intertwined for almost an hour. We’d already spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon together in bed. He was answering texts on his phone periodically and showed me a text from his mother. It mentioned being at [One Gay At A Time’s] and her reply was: “Hoboken sounds nice. Why don’t you look for a place there?” However, he told me he couldn’t afford any studios in Hoboken. I was touched he’d mentioned me to his mother and was excited he actually entertained the idea of living in Hoboken.

When my empty stomach couldn’t take it anymore, I suggested I make us breakfast. I told him to stay in bed while I whipped something up. I took some of my world-class pork and apple sausages out of the freezer, scrambled some eggs with cheddar cheese, and buttered some toast. I returned to the room to get his coffee flavor or choice and let him know breakfast was ready. He emerged shortly thereafter and joined me for breakfast. “If you’re trying to win me over, you’re going about it all the right way!” he said after shoveling some of the sausage into his mouth. This was the second time I’d heard him say this.

After we finished eating we made our way to the couch. We were both shirtless the entire morning and afternoon. My roommates and their friends came and went and we paid them no attention. We watched TV and movies all afternoon. When it was getting to be about 4:00, he admitted defeat and suggested he just stay. He wasn’t going to make any progress finding an apartment at that point, and he much rather stay with me anyway. With that, we both smoked a little and enjoyed each other’s company in front of the TV.

We ordered Mediterranean for dinner, opened a special bottle of Malbec I’d been saving for the right guy and had more of the pineapple upside down cake for dessert. We watched Bridesmaids and other movies the rest of the night. We stayed on the couch all day until we both passed out. When he finally woke me, it was 1:30am, and we made our way to bed. I was exhausted, and I’d done absolutely nothing all day long. It was some of the best absolutely nothing I’ve ever done. Every last second of it.

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