Posts Tagged spending the night

Never-Ending Date

I’d begun an amazing date with a spectacular man, and I couldn’t wait for what was to come next. Although I had been to Frankies 570 multiple times before with multiple dates, this time was special. I had an amazing guy to share a meal with. Ironically, my meal from days prior was so good, I ordered the same the again.

Conversation over dinner we great. It flowed like water downhill. We were both very flirtatious and chatty. On many of my other dates, there were long awkward pauses, but not on this one. Everything was just so easy. When I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, he leaned in requesting a kiss first. It was incredibly sweet and adorable. I really liked this guy. He was everything I was looking for.

I was just taking extra care to make sure I didn’t get ahead of myself. I had a history of falling for guys who would hurt me or not be interested in pursuing anything further. While in the restroom, I looked in the mirror to keep myself centered. All I could do was smile at my reflection like a giddy schoolgirl.

When I returned to the table, the conversation picked back up where we left off. My hand was on his leg under the table. His body language was very positive.

Our meals came, and we shared them with each other. Both of us were very happy with our selections. When the meal ended, we agreed to order a dessert to share. We got the crème-brulee. I dug my spoon into it and fed him a spoonful. It felt incredibly romantic. He smiled as his mouth closed around the spoon. We finished dessert and began to chat about what to do next. He was dancing around what I can only assume were his true motives. He said, “We can go have more drinks.” I interjected, “I don’t want to drink anymore.” “We can drop our bags at my place and go out. We could grab Pinkberry…” he added. I cut him off at the pass saying, “You can stop dancing around it. We can go back to your place.” He immediately smiled and agreed that was the best idea.

I wasn’t thinking we were going back to his place for sex. I knew there would be making out and a lot of heavy petting, but I wasn’t planning to give it up that easily. We hopped in a cab back to his apartment. He asked if I wanted to go to the roof, and I told him I would default to him. We were on his home turf. He could run the show. I picked the bar and restaurant. It was his turn to drive. Before we got to his place, he warned me of the condition of it. He informed me he lived like a frat boy.

When we got to his place, we stopped in his apartment on our way to the roof. I didn’t think he was as bad as he let on. We began making out on the bed. This, of course, led to many other things. Slowly but surely, clothes started landing on the floor in scattered piles. Eventually, we fond ourselves naked and engaging in a myriad of sexual acts, but penetration would never occur.

He was a very passionate man. I have found it nearly impossible to find a man whose intellect, wit and sense of adventure outside the bedroom matched their passion in the bedroom. He was a diamond in the rough. I wasn’t going to let this one go without a fight.

I noticed he was very into music. It was like he needed a soundtrack. I liked it. Every minute I was learning something new about him, and it was all making me like him even more.

We never made it to the roof. We ended up passing out on top of each other’s naked body. In the middle of the night, we both woke up. It was around 2:00. He offered for me to stay. I was under the impression that was already happening. I assumed I would just stay the night. We cuddled some more, and he turned out the lights.

When we woke in the morning, things weren’t awkward at all. I felt very comfortable with him. We talked about how we didn’t have sex and how that made us both happy. We didn’t need to rush things. I mean, I was spending the night on a first date, but I was happy true sex didn’t occur. I was also thrilled he was the type of guy who would just bring that up and not keep it inside for fear of saying the wrong thing. He spoke his mind. I needed to get back to that. Being with him might help me get back to that.

He was amazing. There was no question about it. We were both starving and decided to get dressed to hunt for some breakfast. We stopped by a few places before finally settling on Jimmy’s American Grill and Bar. We grabbed a table outside and picked up the conversation where we left off the previous night.

I let my freak flag fly. I felt so free with him. I told him all about me and my idiosyncrasies. I explained my Christmas Bash and all the work I put into it. He referred to me as Martha Stewart, and I expressed my hatred for that referral. I didn’t like that my cooking and entertaining had a feminine connotation. I told him I was more the Nate Berkus type. He laughed and agreed it was a better reference. I told him about my crazy coworkers and how we would make an amazing reality show. I told him about growing up on a farm. Everything I could think of, I brought out. He loved it all! I learned about where he grew up and his career in advertising. Every word made me like him more and more. He also told me about his friends. They texted him while we were eating to ask him to come to brunch 2.0.

Somehow, we got on the topic of The Hunger Games. I was reading the books, and he had already seen the movie. I told him I was looking forward to seeing the movie. He told me he would go see it again and asked if we could go see it Sunday. You could have knocked me over with a feather. He was already planning date number two before date number one concluded. I was thrilled and immediately accepted.

He walked me to the PATH to say goodbye before heading downtown to meet his friends at Elmo. We kissed each other goodbye and gave a long lasting hug. There was a homeless man panhandling next to us who said, “Get a room,” through a smile. He began laughing, and I started to crack up since I was the one facing him. I said to my amazing date, “That made my day.” Immediately, he replied, “You made my day.” I was in heaven. I said goodbye and went down the stairs to the train.

Later, I learned from checking his Twitter that when he checked in at dinner on Foursquare, he wrote, “Easy conversation + tasty food + hot boy = great date on a Fri night (@ Frankies 570 w/ 2 others)” and the next day at brunch, “When last night’s date becomes this afternoon’s brunch date (@ Jimmy’s American Grill & Bar). He really did like me. I was just finding it hard to take. It was like a dream. I couldn’t really believe it. I didn’t want to get too excited because I didn’t want to get hurt. But, honestly, who gives a f*ck. I was happy, and that was all I cared about.

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Unhappy Ending

I woke Sunday morning and decided my time with Mr. Grindr was over. N was still trying to get with him, and that was a whole lot of drama I didn’t want to get into. I was disgusted by the whole thing. It reminded me constantly of the time I cheated on N just for the sake of evening a score. It reminded me of how much less of a man I was. I didn’t need it. Plenty of other fish in the sea. I think I kept him on the roster for so long as I did because I felt guilty for dragging him into the middle of N and I.

Since no one was in town, I did what I could to clear my head. I don’t do well alone. When I’m alone, I have nothing to distract me. I star to crawl up into my own head, and I don’t like what I find. I get depressed. I know this isn’t healthy, but denial is a wonderful thing! I decided to head down to the pier in Hoboken with a few magazines and my notebook to catch up on my blogging.

Of course, I couldn’t leave the house without my matchmaker, Grindr. And once again, I found myself spending more time searching and less time writing. I managed to reconnect with a guy I had been chatting with on an earlier day. He was a sexy black man from Jersey City. I have nothing against black men, but they’re not usually my type. However, I don’t discriminate, so I convinced him to come to the pier and hang out with me.

I had been in the sun a majority of the day and was enjoying myself. I sat and people watched and read Men’s Health and Details. He showed up a few hours later. We shook hands, and he sat next to me. We started with small talk, but as the day progressed, the conversation developed more substance. We shared a great deal in common. He looked like quite the athlete as well. He had nice arms and great legs. He kept his shirt on while we sat in the sun. I found this slightly odd, but to each his own. I just wanted to see what was under the shirt.

When I couldn’t take any more of the sun, I asked if he wanted to grab a drink. I was enjoying his company a lot. He seemed like a great guy. We packed up my blanket and other things and walked to nearby Trinity to sit by the waterfront and have a few cocktails. I hadn’t had lunch, so I ordered a large salad. We both got drinks outside our usual comfort zones and shared with each other. It was nice. We were having a good time. Eventually, he ordered some food as well.

I was pleasantly surprised. This was a completely last-minute unplanned date, and it was turning out to be quite good. I was also finding myself more and more attracted to him. He had an amazingly infectious smile.

After a few round of drinks, we took a walk along the waterfront. I hit a bit of a snag in keeping the date going. It was starting to get late, so I wanted to head back to my apartment, but I also wanted him to join me. But, I had my motorcycle and only one helmet. When we arrived at my bike, I explained the predicament and invited him to come back. I would have to ride home, and walk and meet him half way to my apartment. He agreed, so I sped off.

When we got to the apartment, I opened a bottle of wine, and we went out to the balcony to relax and keep the dialogue going. When 11:00 rolled around, he was ready to head home. I invited him to stay. He knew I was no longer interested in simple hookups. I made that clear early on, so he questioned my logic. I told him, “After spending the day with you, I feel comfortable and would like you to stay.” He graciously agreed, and we started making out on the balcony. After some time passed, I grabbed his hand and brought him back to my room.

The clothes came off, and that’s when I got a bomb dropped on me. All of a sudden, I knew why the shirt stayed on at the pier. While his legs and arms were quite toned and muscular, his mid section was very flabby. It was almost as if he had lap band surgery and hadn’t completed the skin restructuring. When I grabbed for his ass, it felt like a Ziploc of water. There was absolutely no muscle definition there. He wasn’t kidding when he told me he was a mathlete in high school, and not the football player I pictured him to be.

I’m sure I’m coming across very shallow at this point, but sexual attraction is 40% of a relationship for me. This was 40% I couldn’t get over. I can be very forgiving about a lot of things on a guy, but this was tough. I had been with a guy before who had this issue, but it was very slight. I looked past it. Tonight, I could, but this guy would not be back for seconds. I liked him a lot, but I was no longer sexually attracted to him. We still fooled around, and he spent the night with me, but I couldn’t picture myself repeating the night.

In the morning, we woke and got dressed. I explained how he could get to the light rail to head home. We kissed and he invited me to hang out again. He said I could come hang at his pool sometime. I appreciated this. He really was a nice guy. I could easily see us being friends, but we certainly would not be romantically involved. I gave him a kiss goodbye, and with that, he walked out the door.

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