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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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The Milkman

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…

Periodically I get slightly outlandish requests from men on Grindr. Some want to pay me to suck on my toes and lick my feet. Some are looking for very kinky things. Some just want to give a bl*wjob. To be honest, this was never something I have ever craved giving. It’s part of my bedroom repertoire, but it’s never something I’m just really itching to do without getting some reciprocation. This isn’t always the case with Grindr, adam4adam and ManHunt men.

On the night before St. Patty’s day in Hoboken, I received a bunch of Grindr messages from a guy who’d been asking to come over and give me a bl*wjob before work on numerous occasions. I was laying in bed watching TV and saw no harm in a little oral pleasure. As the conversation continued, he went dark, and I went to bed.

As per my usual, the next morning, I woke up horny. I had multiple messages from “The Milkman.” I conversed with him on the subject for a little bit. He apologized for dozing off the night before and never coming over. He seriously wanted to make it up to me. “I’ll make up for last night. I swear! You won’t regret it. I’m that good!” He was at his apartment waiting for his friends to wake up. They spent the night in anticipation of the local holiday. I told him I was still in bed and was horny. He immediately offered to come over and service me, but he wouldn’t be able to do it until 12:30. By then, my roommate would have my apartment filled with her friends. That would prove to be a logistical nightmare to sneak him in. Not that I need to sneak him in, but I don’t need a bunch of fresh college grad girls running their mouths about me.

He continued to push me to figure out a way to make it happen. “You can drink a beer while I do it,” he added. He had to wait until 12:30 because that was when his group was heading to the bar. He would double back and come over to my place. I explained the party and told him I’d have to sneak him in the back door. He seemed to be game with the plan. I questioned what I’d have to do for him, and he immediately told me nothing. He just really wanted to service me. He wasn’t the best looking guy, but he wasn’t ugly either. I was okay with the situation as long as I didn’t have to service him.

We started getting graphic, but also discussed safety. We didn’t really know each other. We didn’t want to do anything too risky. I was all riled up and having a hard time not finishing myself off right then and there. I told him to just come over then, but he wouldn’t sneak out on his friends. I was so horny. “I can’t. My girl is here. Wait. You’ll get it.” WHAT!? His girl? Guess he had a girlfriend. That was none of my business. If he wasn’t doing it with me, it’d be some other guy. It was obvious we weren’t going to form a relationship out of this, so it was no skin off my back. I did question him on it, and he explained it was a terminal relationship. It was already on life-support. He told me not to touch myself. “Think about baseball or grandmas,” he added. With that, I went and took a shower to pass the time before his arrival.

When he got to the door, he texted. I buzzed him in and he climbed the back staircase. It took a few attempts and close calls before I opened the door and he came straight into my bedroom and closed the door. When I told him a girl just walked past the door, he responded, “This is crazy bro.” Everyone was finally in the kitchen, and I assumed I pulled it off.

We chatted a bit about our previous conversation and our plans for the day while we shared a beer. He seemed like a reasonable guy. Very down-to-earth and realistic. He wasn’t the most fit guy, but he was a fun character. He was also very anxious to get my pants off.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I sat on the bed, and he pulled my shorts down. He was very pleased with what he saw, and he went to town. I took the opportunity to use my hands to fondle him through his pants. He quickly became aroused, which further increased my arousal. He continued for some time before I moved up on the bed. He came around my side, and I undid his pants so I could really feel him. It didn’t take much longer before I was on the edge of climax. He back his head away and began to use his hand while I finished in quite a fountain show. I think we both loved every second of it. He really was as good as he made himself out to be.

While I toweled off, I asked him about his girlfriend. He told me he was ready to dump her. He also mentioned many of his friends already knew he was gay. I wasn’t fully buying any of his stories. They all seemed just a little too convenient.

The conversation then turned on me. He told me how good-looking I was. He enjoyed my strong features. I complain about my nose quite often and am seriously considering getting it fixed. When I mentioned this, he heavily protested. “You have a very strong Roman nose. Don’t change a thing about it,” he protested. I told him that was the nicest way anyone has ever described my big nose before. We both laughed. “No. But really. It’s great. That and your strong chin. You’re a very handsome man,” he added. I was blushing.

Shortly after, we snuck him back out the door when the coast was clear. Five minutes later, I received a text from him: “Thanks! You’re a pretty rad guy!… And stop picking on that face. You’re a f#ckin’ knockout!” This was the first time anyone had ever thanked me for them giving me a bl*wjob. I replied, “If anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.” He told me any time I wanted him to come over, he’d be all over it. “I’d love to have a regular thing where I swing by in the morning before work a few times a week,” he said. He really was like the milkman.

I polished off my beer and walked out to the kitchen. I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought. My male roommate and his girlfriend noticed him come in. They didn’t care and didn’t judge me. When I told them the full story, they actually gave me a high-five. I walked to the fridge and grabbed another beer. I had a long day of drinking in front of me…

 

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Whoopsie!

I’ve been on Grindr for quite some time now. I’ve come to remember certain things about certain guys on there. I recognize when new guys come up, and I recognize when guys I’ve spoken to in the past pop up as well.

N and I have always had an awkward relationship when it came to Grindr. It was how we met, but it was also the catalyst for him cheating on me (and me cheating on him).

After I broke up with Smiles, he asked me to keep a lookout for a guy impersonating him on there. I was so thrilled he found an opportunity to capitalize on my failing relationship in some way. It was so typical of him. He’d also mentioned that a friend found me on there shortly after breaking up with Smiles. The story he gave me sounded like such b.s. I could see right through it. I could tell he had a secret profile himself because what he proposed happened would never have happened. He had a serious boyfriend, and I seriously suspected he was still using the app, just on the dl this time.

One day, I thought I discovered his secret profile. The language he used in the description was spot on for things he’s said on his profile in the past. There also was no picture attached, so his boyfriend wouldn’t be able to find him if he tried. I messaged the profile saying: “Is this [Neighbor’s] secret profile?”

It took a long time, maybe a day perhaps, but the profile responded to me. He asked if he knew me, but I played dumb. I proposed my idea of who he was, but he wasn’t answering me straight. Finally, he said he wasn’t who I thought he was.

We started to chat about different things. He asked where I lived. I told him where I live and where I’d recently moved from. He commented about how I’ve lived in the back end of Hoboken for the most part. I told him I care more about what was inside my apartment than where I lived location wise.

He asked what gym I go to, and I told him. I told him my reservations about NYSC based on the stories N told me, as well as many of even my straight friends. He told me how he felt the same way, and because of this, he goes to Club H.

When I was detailing the sketchiness I knew about NYSC, he became more curious. He asked what my ex told me went down there. I told him he told me guys rub and tug in the steam room. I told him my ex told me about participating once before he met me. An older gentleman walked over to him and lifted off his towel, exposing him. He then proceeded to blow him. I was shocked by this because anyone could walk in at any time. He told me he was never able to stretch in there because guys were constantly dropping their towels at him and propositioning him.

He then started asking a lot of questions about my ex. He asked why we broke up. I told him about catching him flirting with other guys on Grindr and sending naked pictures of himself to other guys “he was just messaging to be friends with.” He asked if I had a picture of him, so I looked through my phone and sent it. I felt a little guilty, but then again I didn’t. N certainly didn’t show me the respect I deserved, so why should I give him respect in return. Besides, I wasn’t really doing anything wrong. I was only telling the truth, and the picture I sent was fully clothed. At this point, I still wasn’t sure he wasn’t N pretending to be someone else to pump me for information, but like I said, I wasn’t saying anything untrue. I was being honest and civilized about it.

“No offense, but he’s not very good looking,” he added. I smiled from ear to ear. “Like my apartments, I choose my men based more on what’s on the inside,” I told him. I chuckled in my mind and out-loud because N always thought he was an adonis. He was decently attractive, but not enough to warrant his ego. He went on to insult his looks further. At this point, I had a feeling it wasn’t N or one of his friends.

Then he asked if he was good in bed. I told him I didn’t want to talk about my ex anymore and tried to change the subject. “That means no, haha,” he joked. I said, “Not necessarily. He was new when he met me. I broke him in and showed him the ropes. I put in all the legwork for his current boyfriend.” “How do you feel about that? Does that make you mad?” he asked. I told him I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t my concern, and we weren’t exactly friends anymore. I told him how I’d put in the effort to continue to be his friend, but I couldn’t be bothered anymore. When he asked why we’re barely friends, I told him about how N never put in any effort toward friendship unless there was something in it for him. “He’s too conceited, that’s why,” I added.

At this point, I was a little suspect this guy was the one who was impersonating N on Grindr. It seemed he knew something or was pumping me for information, because every time I would try to change the subject, he would circle back. Once again, I just answered all the questions I was asked honestly. I asked him to send me pictures, which he did. I’d never seen him before. I started to ask him what brought him to Grindr, and I immediately was blocked by him. It was a very unusual turn of events. I was highly annoyed, but there was nothing I could do about it. I shrugged it off, and went on with my day.

I knew this wasn’t the end of it. I knew there would be some hell to pay, but I was ready for it. That, and I DIDN’T CARE! Screw him. He wasn’t adding any value to my life. He was one of the exs I no longer needed to concern myself with.

Of course, while traveling for business the next day, I received a text from N: “Hey bud… So this is going to be random. But you never spoke to anyone about me on Grindr recently have you?” Yup. I was right. It was someone pumping me for information so they could run back to him with it in some fashion.

I decided this wasn’t worth my time. I didn’t respond. I just laughed out loud to myself and put my phone away. It was my turn to talk to other guys on Grindr.

I told all my friends about what happened, and they loved it. They have not been a fan of his since they learned all the sh*t he was pulling behind my back. He was useless dead weight in my life, and it was time to cut him free. I no longer needed that baggage. He proved he didn’t care enough to keep me a part of his life. I was going to spend more time concentrating on my good friends and new lovers. I was done living in the past.

That night, I texted the southern guy to see when we were actually going to get together. We’d had two great hour long phone conversations. I was looking forward to meeting him in person. I asked what he was up to the following night, and he responded back, “Yeah… I have a date, LOL.” I was p*ssed. He had a lot of nerve. He knew I was interested. I made that clear. It was incredibly rude to respond in that way. What was laugh out loud worthy of that!? I didn’t want to give him the benefit of an angry response, so I just said, “Enjoy. I take it you’ve lost interest then?”

“No, I just met someone last week at work (since I barely have a life outside of it) and we’ve had a few dates. Seeing where it’s going. We haven’t even kissed yet,” he detailed. “Not gonna lie. I’m pretty disappointed. Been trying to meet up with you for weeks. Nothing I can do about it though,” I told him. I was hurt, but I wanted to be honest. He tried consoling me by saying: “I’m sorry. It just happened. It doesn’t mean we can’t grab a drink. I just want to be completely up front. The opposite of the guys up here who are dating and f*cking 7 people at a time.” I wasn’t going to play this game. “Well my friend, the ball is in your court. You know how to reach me if you’re ever up for that drink…” I was done chasing men who showed no interest in dating me. I had better things to do with my time.

I also made a new rule. I was no longer going to try to date flakes who worked at Ralph Lauren. This was the fourth guy who worked there who burned me. I know this sounds petty, but I wasn’t about to let it happen again…

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Dinner Reunion

Smiles and I made plans over the Christmas break to share a home-cooked meal my first full night back in town. I was greatly looking forward to it after not seeing him for a week. We’d spent a week apart before, but not over Christmas. Something about it made it tougher for me to get through.

That morning, Smiles sent me a text. He was wishing me luck on my first day back in the office after being away for some time. It was a truly sweet gesture considering how out of character this was for him. Since I left him, he was showering me with attention I didn’t normally receive. I attribute this to our conversation the night before I dropped him at the airport. That was just my assumption, but the only other factor that changed was spending time apart.

Out of the blue, in the middle of the afternoon, he picked up the phone and called me. I’d told him I had to go to the office that week, but there was little chance I would actually be working, so I guess he felt I’d have the free time to chat. It was a very welcomed distraction from my Facebook status perusal and email correspondences.

He called out of boredom. He couldn’t seem to motivate himself to work. He was still in vacation mode from being away. “My head is still at the beach,” he added. I told him there was no need to dive back into everything unless it was urgent. We all have lazy days. Why not ease back into the workload?

Before Christmas, I bought two cashmere hats from Bonobos. Smiles had mentioned interest in similar hats. I bought them just in case we made a last-minute decision to exchange presents. I could ship them back free of charge and Smiles would be none the wiser, but that seemed like a waste. I got a great deal on them considering how much he paid for the last one he purchased, so I decided I was going to ask if he wanted them. It wouldn’t be a gift — I would just be facilitating the deal.

“Are you still interested in cashmere hats, and what is your price point?” I asked. He told me anything under $80 each, which was $20 more than what I paid for them. I decided I was going to show him the hats and come clean about how I came to purchase them. I was worried I would look anxious in his eyes, but since we had our talk about where we were, I decided I needed to start being more of myself. It’s very much like me to do something slightly awkward and come clean about it. I’m very honest when it comes to things like that, shame or no shame. If he didn’t like it, then he didn’t like me.

That night after work, he came over. He texted me as he was getting on the PATH. When I didn’t hear from him for over a half hour, I tried calling and texting. I was getting no response. I wasn’t sure what happened, but I was hoping the meal wouldn’t be overdone waiting for him. Finally, he told me he’d arrived in Hoboken. When he got to my apartment, he told me he’d gotten on the wrong PATH train and ended up in Jersey City. He had to switch over and come back towards Hoboken.

I filled plates for the two of us, and we sat on the couch to eat dinner while we watched TV. Smiles loved the meal. He said it was cooked perfectly and everything was delicious. I was very proud and thrilled with how much he enjoyed it. One thing I love to do is cook for a man, especially when I get such rave reviews.

While we watched TV, my attention was constantly stolen by the reflection of headlights on the windows across the street. He kept asking what I was looking at, and when I told him, he poked fun at my inability to keep my attention fixed. We had a good laugh about it.

Smiles asked if I had any ice cream to finish our meal (you know him and his sweet tooth). I didn’t have any. We had two options. We could venture back out into the cold to pick up a pint, or we could settle for a variety of candy I had stashed in my room. He settled on the candy.

After dinner, we moved things into the bedroom. I was anxious to hop into bed with Smiles, just to feel his body against mine. I didn’t even care if it involved sex. I just wanted to be close to him. But, before we hopped into bed, I decided to bite the bullet on the hats. I explained, and he decided he wanted to keep the gray hat and have me return the black since he already had one. He gave me cash, and the transaction was complete. I was glad I didn’t just send the hats back without consulting him as many of my friends suggested (I have a habit of doing what I want even against my friends’ better judgment).

We laid in bed and exchanged random stories. We discussed how he was healing after his appendectomy. Like I said before, I was going to start being myself, so I told him the ridiculous story about my belly button. For some unknown reason, when I was in college and I got drunk, I would encourage my friends to feel my belly button. I was a swimmer so I had a flat stomach, and when I got drunk, I like the way it felt (maybe the beer pushed it out a bit). I insisted it was incredibly sexy and even took some of my friends’ finger and guided it to my belly button. I also proceeded to tell him about the time my belly button was handpicked as the body shot glass for a bachelorette party when I was in Key West. “ ‘Wow! You have the Grand Canyon of belly buttons!’ one girl shouted,” I told him. He laughed and looked at me like I was from another planet as he examined my belly button.

The rest of the night was more of the same — Lots of cuddling and chatter, but no sex. I was fine with this, as I was just happy to have him in my bed. We both brushed our teeth and climbed under the covers. I was going to bed a happy man that night, and I was looking forward to waking in the morning to a sexy man in bed next to me.

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