Posts Tagged ShopRite

Things Heat Up

In the summer, my company offers half day Fridays. It’s an amazing perk, and I take full advantage.

GroceryShoppingI live for my weekends, so if there was anything I could do to make them better, I did. I utilized my free Friday afternoons to run my errands so Saturday and Sunday would be all mine. I tried to clean and do laundry, run to the grocery store, etc.

This Friday, I was very successful getting through my list. I stopped by my allergist for my weekly shot. Since I left work at 1:00, I decided to eat lunch at McDonalds (never a good decision). While sitting there, I noticed two men walking holding hands across the street. I was a bit surprised. I immediately thought, “We do that in Hoboken?!” In the six years I’d lived in Hoboken, only once before had I seen two men holding hands. I was thrilled to see the courage and the progress.

When I finished eating, I swung by the salon for a haircut and hit up the gym to lift and swim. After my swim, I called CK from the roof deck of the gym. Although we made tentative plans for Saturday night, we hadn’t discussed plans for that night. It was our anniversary. He automatically assumed I was spending the night in the city since he came to Hoboken the previous night. I was not under the same impression, so I explained I did not want to spend both Friday and Saturday night away from place. I told him to pick one. This of course turned into an argument. He complained about the trek to Hoboken, and I resented this. I’d made the trip back into the city to be with him many times after a long day at work, and I did it without complaint. He always made it seem like torture when he had to traverse the Hudson River. The argument grew more and more heated until he threatened not to come at all. I wasn’t having any more of this, so I hung up on him.

Rooftop Phone CallI was tired of this game we were playing. I didn’t want to argue anymore. In addition, my testosterone was already flowing after a solid workout, and my blood was beginning to boil with every complaint.

After I got home and a few minutes passed, he called back (He always was good at playing the role of peacemaker). He told me he’d come to Hoboken, but it wouldn’t be until later. We discussed the argument calmly, and both apologized for getting out of hand. He explained he had assumption I was coming there all day. The idea of him trekking out to Hoboken on a bus wasn’t all that thrilling to him after having those expectations all day. I explained how one of us would always have to make the trek to the other. There was nothing we could do about that, at least for now, so the more fair and balanced we could make it (and the less complaining), the less burdensome it would feel. He agreed.

Since I had a fair amount of time before his arrival, I continued with my to-do list and swung by Shop Rite and Target. When I finished and returned home, I was still a bit depressed from the bad news I’d received at work that week, so I plopped down on the couch and watched TV until CK arrived.

WatchingTVHours passed, and I heard nothing from him. I felt he was dragging his feet and as every minute passed, I grew more and more annoyed. He told me he had to shower before coming over. He obviously wasn’t still showering. I was sure he was just lounging about, which is fine. But I wanted him to be lounging about with me.

This wasn’t just any night after all. We were supposed to be “celebrating” our three-month anniversary. I finally got so annoyed I sent him a text: “Maybe tonight would be better spent apart. I’m in a really cranky mood now.” It was already past 10:00. At this point he was coming over to sleep and not much else. He called and told me he was already in a cab on the way to the PATH. I encouraged him not to doddle before saying goodbye. I needed to cool off before he arrived, or it was a guaranteed fight the moment he arrived. It seemed all the smallest things so easily got under my skin. I was all wound up. Work was stressing me out. Life was stressing me out…

Finally, at 11:00, he arrived, flowers in hand to make up for the botched night. Honestly, I would have preferred he came three hours prior, but the gesture was utterly sweet. And, I forgave/thanked him immediately. I tried to be cool with everything and have a nice time with him since it was a special night. There was no use being miserable.

It wasn’t really his fault either. Work made me a miserable son-of-a-b*tch. He asked me how my day was. I further explained my new predicament and fretted over the possibility of being unemployed in the near future. I was very pessimistic about the whole situation.

DepressedI certainly will hand it to him. He remained positive and tried to assure me everything would be fine. This is why I loved him so much. NO matter how much of a Debbie Downer I can be, he always picks me up and dusts me off. In spite of my pessimism, he was always optimistic.

We also learned to collaborate professionally. We were helping each other bolster up our positions in the social media realm of our jobs. He taught me things I didn’t know about, and through my recent vigorous research, I taught him a thing or two as well.

When I’d had enough talk of my job situation, we agreed to order Chinese food for dinner. I was too tired to cook. While we waited for the food to arrive, we smoked to relax.

He told me about his day at work and the stellar presentation he delivered to the powers that be. He was proposing a new initiative that was well received by the decision-makers. I was happy for him, but also jealous. Sure, I realize how horrible that is to say, but I’m nothing if I’m not honest.

The rest of the night was much better than the evening had begun. Eventually, I forgot all about our fight and my emotions were back in check. We ate our food while watching TV in each other’s arms on the couch.

GeneralTsosI finished eating, but CK was still chowing down as he poured some of the General Tso’s sauce onto on his plate. After a few minutes, he started fretting. Apparently, he’d eaten something quite hot. After investigating, I realized he ate a whole chili pepper. Tears were streaming down his face as he rinsed his mouth over and over again in the sink. Next he tried a glass of milk and a few pieces of bread. That didn’t seem to be helping. He even took to wiping his tongue with a napkin. Nothing helped. It was all I could do to maintain my composure, but after a while I couldn’t hold back. His face wasn’t the only one wet from tears. I was hysterically laughing so hard I was crying.

After a good laugh, interspersed with failing advice, I consulted Google for a better solution. We’d tried everything in the book. When I told him someone suggested eating another one, he looked like he was going to throw me out the third-story window. I was still getting a chuckle out of all this but certainly at his expense. It was torture for him, but he had no idea the gift he was giving me. He delivered exactly what I needed that night — A good laugh.

Eventually the pain subsided, and he forgot all about the incident. As our eyelids grew heavier and heavier, we moved to my bedroom for the night. As tired as we were, our appetites weren’t quite satiated.

We were pinning each other down for the count before we counting sheep. As hot as things were for him during dinner, things in the bedroom were even hotter. We tired ourselves out between the sheets before he finally drifted off to slumber wrapped in my arms. That night taught me something very important. No matter how much we fought, this was the man I loved, and there was no changing that.

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Dating The David

After a relaxed night, including dinner, cuddling and a dream-filled night sleeping together, CK and I woke early feeling frisky. It was six am, but we were both turned on and wide awake.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started fooling around. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I was pulling him in tight and hugging him with all my might. I never wanted to let go. I lifted my hand, and gave him a smack on his backside. He always liked this — I was somewhat obsessed with his butt. It was amazing — Like The David amazing.

He put his mouth around my member and went to town. I laid back and enjoyed all the sensations. It was all I could do to hold out from jumping on top of him and slipping inside. After some time, my wish was granted. We changed positions, and I was on top of him. I slid in slowly, savoring every stimulation sensation I felt as I did. I started slow, and the pace only picked up from there. We changed to many other positions that morning.

We continued until neither could take it anymore. He finished, and we made our way to the shower to clean up. The fun didn’t end in the bed. We continued molesting each other while we showered together.

After we dried off, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I wanted more sex. We were already late from fooling around in bed all morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate all day at work if I didn’t finish. He began to blow me once again, which morphed into mutual oral pleasure. I still couldn’t finish. It was getting late, and we weren’t making much progress, so we stopped. I would simply save it for that night.

We got dressed and made our way to the PATH to head into work. We both read the third book of the Hunger Games series, Mocking Jay. I had only a handful of pages left before I finished. I was at a part of the book that was very emotionally charged and describes a loving relationship my boyfriend and I often mimicked. I was very happy with the ending, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Reading the book made me fall in love with him even more.

I texted him throughout the day to tell him how much I missed him. All day long, he would ask me, “Real or not real?” — a line from the Hunger Games books. This was definitely real. I was falling in love with this amazing man every second of every day.

I also took the opportunity to ask him if he liked lobster. I was thinking we’d go to the grocery store and pick up some cheap lobsters for dinner. He was totally onboard.

He needed to stop by his place before coming to mine. Since it was only a few blocks from my office, he encouraged me to swing by before heading to Hoboken. I told him this wouldn’t be an extended thing. I explained I still needed to go to the grocery store to get the lobsters before cooking them. I didn’t want to get sucked into a post-work romp before heading back to my place.

We finally made our way to my apartment. We hopped on the motorcycle and hit up ShopRite in Hoboken. I have to tell you; the seafood guy there is the coolest. He knows so much about seafood and will always suggest how to cook things. We even took the opportunity to snap a picture of him weighing the four lobsters we bought. It was then and there we decided to go home and play with the lobsters. We were going to have Hunger Game reenactments. We were like a bunch of teenage girls.

When we got home, we put all the lobsters on the counter and cut the bands off their claws. I grabbed the whiteout so we could paint them to denote who was who. We even bought pitas to represent Peeta. CK had the great idea to use the Video Star app to make a music video set to Lana Del Ray’s parody of Video Games, Hunger Games.

While he filmed with his iPhone, we moved the lobsters around and made them fight each other.

When we were done playing, we dropping the lobsters into the pot and steamed them. We each had our own lobster, and I froze the other two to use for other recipes down the road (Yes, I keep lobster on hand to use in recipes). They were delicious. When we sufficiently made a mess of the entire kitchen and had our fill, we cleaned up and made our way to my bedroom. We watched a little TV before we both dozed off.

Things were starting to feel routine with him, and not in a bad way. We were so comfortable together. This is also when we both realized just how comfortable we are with each other. While in bed, he let one rip in front of me. I laughed hysterically. We’d finally reached the point we could comfortable fart in front of each other. I too squeezed one out in an act of solidarity. I told him how many farts I’d already buried in the bed with him in the past. We talked very openly about it from then on out. He asked questions about holding it in, and I explained I would always let them go when I left the room and even brought up how one slipped the first night I spent at his place. We both had a hearty laugh about it all.

He made me so happy. I found myself spending my entire day looking forward to seeing him again. Work was simply something I did between my time off — Between the time I’d get to see him again.

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Ladies and Gentleman, My Boyfriend

The morning after my “wild night,” I woke early. I was happy to realize I didn’t have a hangover, but I had a lot to do. I sat at my desk and went through circulars to make a grocery list, I went over my to-do list, I cleaned my bedroom, did two loads of laundry and sorted through my clothes to get rid of some of them. It was a very productive morning. The only thing I didn’t get done was to make it to the gym.

Around 11:00am, CK called. I didn’t want to call him because I was afraid of waking him. I knew he wasn’t a morning person. I was happy to hear his voice. He told me he needed to do laundry and wouldn’t come to Hoboken until about 2:00. I was fine with that. It allowed me to finish what I needed to get done for the morning.

I planned to head over to the Hoboken Arts and Music Festival around 2:00. That’s what I told P and my sister. As I was walking out the door, he called to apologize for running late. He was just walking out the door to hop on the PATH. Obviously he wasn’t going to arrive at 2:00. I told him I’d be at the festival, and I would make my way to him when he arrived.

I managed to find P, my sister and her friend without much effort. P had her dog, Baby, with her and needed to find her water. I told them I needed to make my way to the PATH to get CK, and they were welcome to join me. They all followed. We waited at the PATH for some time before he finally arrived. It was close to 3:45 before he finally arrived. He was running late as usual. I happily introduced him to the three of them, and we made our way back to the festival to find lunch.

Before he arrived, I had a worry in the back of my head. We were used to showing affection openly, but not in Hoboken. I still wasn’t out to everyone I knew around town, and I had my reservations about PDA. I was trying to get over it. There was no reason I shouldn’t feel comfortable being myself. But, I can’t lie. I was very nervous.

That being said, I greeted him with a hug, and we spent a large portion of the day holding hands and our arms around each other. This was a first for me. I did relax a bit and began to let my guard down.

We found the steak sandwiches I’ve gotten many years in the past and hopped in line. My old roommate (also my favorite roommate) was making his way toward us, so I told him where we were. I introduce him to CK, and he reminded me I’d met the girl he was with in the past.

As we ate, we walked uptown chatting. He mentioned wanting to do something special for my birthday that Friday. He asked if I’d be able to get out of work early, and I told him it shouldn’t be a problem. All I knew about this surprise was that it would cater to my adventurous side. I thought it was incredibly sweet of him to plan something special for me.

When we reached the north end of the festival, I was ready for dessert. I hadn’t passed anything along the way I really wanted, so I decided to hit up Ralph’s for some cream ice. I ordered the peanut butter cookie dough, and we shared it. It was utterly amazing.

P, my sister, her friend, CK and I were all heading to City Bistro to grab a drink on the rooftop bar since it was such a nice day. We found a seat and relaxed. I could tell one of the guys on the roof was making comments about CK and I, but I didn’t care. I continued resting my hand on his leg or putting my arm around him. I noticed two guy I thought might be gay and informed CK of the “Pickle game” I’d learned from Boston in Miami. We agreed they were gay.

The time came for us to head out. CK wanted to go for a ride on the motorcycle, and I needed to start dinner. We had to stop at ShopRite on the way home for supplies, and it was a bit of a walk home. CK wasn’t happy, but he did it — Not without complaining most of the way.

When we got home, we cuddled in bed for a few minutes before I told him I wanted him to help me with dinner. As I put the beef roast in the oven, I asked him to slice the potatoes for the scalloped potatoes on the mandolin. I warned him quite pointedly to be careful since the blade was so sharp, and I’d already cut myself pretty severely on it once, as did my mother. When he was cutting the last potato, he sliced his finger pretty badly.

I immediately ran to his rescue. He was bleeding pretty bad, but not enough for stitches. He sliced off a small piece of the tip of his thumb. He was now the third person to cut themselves on that mandolin (Him, my mother, and myself). He couldn’t believe how well I was handling the blood. I told him I was a lifeguard for seven years and had my own share of accidents involving a lot of blood. “Awww. Baby, you’re my lifeguard,” he said. I bandaged him up, told him to hold his arm above his head, gave him some painkillers and told him to sit on the couch. Maybe asking him to help was not a good idea. I thought it would be romantic, but it turned out tragic.

When dinner was ready, we ate in front of the TV. He raved about how good dinner was. We watched the shows I normally record on a Sunday night. It was really nice to have him fit so nicely into my routine. That was a sign our relationship had a solid foundation.

When we got tired, we made our way to my bedroom. He must have been really tired, and he kept dozing off. I wanted sex, but it was quite obvious that wasn’t going to happen. It’d been quite some time since we had sex, but I would have to settle for some cuddling instead.

He was out cold, so I brushed my teeth and came back to bed. I must have roused him, because he too got out of bed to brush his teeth. We turned out the light and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It’s rare to find me happier than when I wake up next to him. It’s impossible not to have a smile from ear-to-ear. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. As per usual, he began to give me a bl*wjob. It was one of his favorite morning activities. He told me he wanted me to finish for him. This is an immediate killer for me. I begin to concentrate on that alone. (I really need to see someone about this!) After a while, I told him it was time to shower. I scooped him up and carried him to the shower. He began bl*wing me outside the shower as well. I was too distracted in the bathroom, so I grabbed his hand and led him back to the bed. He felt amazing, and when he began teasing my boys with his tongue, I used my hand to get me over the edge.

“Baby. You taste so sweet today!” he told me. I was a bit shocked to hear this considering N told me I tasted awful. This made me like CK so much more in that moment. Seconds later, he exploded all over his own abdomen. It was incredibly hot to watch.

We went back to the shower and cleaned up. That morning, we joked about water sports. He threatened to pee on me in the shower. I told him if he did, I would certainly be returning the favor. When I saw his warm stream hitting my feet, I delivered on my promise. Both of us immediately got weirded out, and that ended immediately. “Yea. That’s definitely not going to be a thing!” I exclaimed. He nodded his head in sever agreement. Afterwards, I bandaged his finger once again and gave him a band-aid for the road.

We got ready and made our way to the PATH. I had to say goodbye to him in Hoboken to get my allergy shot, and he hopped on the PATH.

Monday, he called me as I was picking out a wedding card at CVS. He wanted to know if I was still in the city so we could meet up for a bit. I’d just gotten off the PATH five minutes prior. He was hopping elevator, so he told me he’d call me when he got up to his apartment, but I didn’t hear back from him.

I sent him a picture message of a t-shirt saying “I would cuddle you so hard.” He didn’t acknowledge the message. When I called later that evening, he seemed weird. He told me he was reading Hunger Games and sounded like I woke him up. The conversation was very short and awkward, so I just said goodnight and went to bed.

We made plans for Tuesday, but work got in the way for him. I proposed getting together Wednesday night at my place for Revenge again instead. I also left work early to pick up my new custom-made bed. I was so excited! I brought it home and assembled it. It was amazing. I sent him pictures, and he responded, “Can’t wait to break it in!” He also asked me if I would be interested in a show at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. I told him that sounded great. Later Tuesday night, I texted him, but got no response until 12:30, just after I dozed off.

The question of fidelity did cross my mind for a hot second. I wondered if we needed to have the exclusivity conversation or was that covered under the can I be your boyfriend conversation? It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but my mind can run wild at times. I was just going to keep it in the back of my mind until I decided whether it was necessary to bring it up…

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