Posts Tagged uncomfortable
Let’s Do Lunch
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 12, 2012
A few days after my date with Connecticut Cutie, we made plans to grab lunch.
Apparently, he had a very laxed work schedule, and he was able to come down to my neighborhood to meet me for a bite. It was nice to have a lunch date. Most days, I eat my lunch at my desk so I can go to the gym in the afternoon. It’d been some time since my last lunch date was well.
I rearranged my day so I could make this happen. I did not want to cancel on him last minute. Of course right when I was getting ready to walk out the door, people started coming to me with work. I told them I had a meeting to run to, and I snuck out of the office.
He had chosen to meet me at Cafe Rustico. It’s a small pizza place around the corner. Since I was a little late, he went to scope the place out.
When I met him on the corner by my office, he told me he wasn’t thrilled with it and asked if I knew of any good places in the neighborhood we could go. I picked a spot, Lena, and ran it by him. He was fine with it, so we decided on that. We ordered our food, and I picked up the tab. We found a small table to eat and chat. He told me more about his getting locked in the bathroom on the train going home after leaving me from our last date. He was quite a goofball. I loved it.
This time, we spent a lot of time talking about my roommates and his. Mine being my current lot, and his being his parents. Both had their positives, but they also had some big negatives as well. We also talked about our coworkers and bosses and our different situations at work. It was nice learning about his job. Last we spoke, it was left a little vague. However, overall, I think I monopolized most of the conversation.
I was enjoying spending time with him. I wasn’t completely sold on him yet. Only time would tell. But, he was certainly a nice guy and was winning me over slowly. My main hesitation was that maybe he was a little “too gay” for me. I wondered if he’d get along with my friends. My other hesitation was that he was living in Connecticut. How often were we going to be able to see each other?
We talked about what each of us had planned for the weekend. I had nothing special going on, and he was helping his dad remodel their bathroom at home. He joked about his “manly DIY project.”
After we each finished, we made our way to the door. I had to get back to work, and he needed to visit one of his stores and check on the merchandising.
We stood outside the restaurant to say our goodbyes. We exchanged a very nice hug, and then he went in for the big kiss. We pulled back, and he went in again for another, like he just couldn’t get enough. He was a good kisser. I liked it. It was a good sign for him.
I was slightly uncomfortable knowing any one of my coworkers could walk by at any second, but another part of me just didn’t care. Let them see. I’m not hiding anymore. I’m not going to walk around the office broadcasting my sexuality, but I also am not going to hide it.
I walked in the other direction with a smile from ear to ear. It’d been a while since a man kissed me like that. Lately, I’d been the one to initiate. Smiles was never particularly affectionate either.
I was heading to Chicago again for work, and I wanted to see him again before I left. When I got back to my desk, I texted him to thank him for meeting me and told him we’d get together again soon…
Follow @onegayatatimeSpecial Forces
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on March 6, 2012
My time in San Francisco ended. I was thrilled I finally got to meet the online friend I’d shared so much of my life with over the past two years. We grew much closer in the little time I spent with him. I was already looking forward to the next time I would get to see him.
Early Saturday morning, I made my way to the airport. I was off to Chicago to finish out my week-long work trip. I’ve actually begun to look forward to these plane trips. It’s one of the few times I can sit and concentrate on writing blog entries without any distractions.
As I boarded the plane, I made my way past first class to my standard seat. I was happy to see it was a newer plane with slightly extended leg room. Being 6’2″, flying has become quite uncomfortable these days. I look forward to the day I get an upgrade, but those days seem to happen about once a year, even with status.
I was also thrilled to find I was sitting next to a very good-looking man with a great body. I could tell this guy was no weekend warrior. He spent a lot of time taking care of himself. I was enamored by his square jaw line and cute dimples. He started chatting me up when they announced the upgrade of six passengers to first class. Since we are both larger gentlemen, we jealously talked about their comfort levels with a certain level of “good for them.” I asked him what he does and learned he was a green beret in the Army Special Forces. I scolded him for not making that known. “If you were in uniform, you’d be first in line to get one of those seats!” He was such a nice guy. “It’s cool. I’m fine here,” he replied nonchalantly. It was such a nice change of pace not having to sit next to someone fat who stole half my seat or who smelled and ruined my entire flight.
Apparently, I wasn’t going to get through very much writing on the plane. So much for no distractions. I asked him if he was headed for business or pleasure. He told me he was flying to Brussels for an internship in defense analysis for the next three months. He told me all about what he does and how much he loves doing it. He also took the time to ask me what I do. I was proud to be sitting next to this man. To me, he was bigger than sitting next to a celebrity. I’ve always had a major soft spot for the military service men and women. Not necessarily in a sexual way. Being in the Navy was my grandfather’s proudest accomplishment. I regularly donate to the USO in his memory partly because I know how much it meant to him, but more so because I know what they have to give up to serve our country. I have friends in the service, so I’ve seen first hand what they sacrifice to keep us safe.
Through chatting with him more, I also learned his girlfriend is also in the Air Force. They were both stationed in California while he was finishing up at the Naval Postgraduate School and got to see each other on the weekends. They had it rough. They got to see each other so rarely, my heart really went out to him. We talked a great deal about his relationship and how they make it work. He realized it wasn’t ideal, but they make it work. I admired his convictions. I asked if she’d be coming to visit him while he was abroad in Belgium, but they have yet to determine if it would be worthwhile since he doesn’t know what his leave will be yet.
The more I talked to him, the more I realized how polite, cute, smart and sexy he is. I wanted to be friends with this guy. I wanted to hit up the bar and buy him a beer. It was completely in a non-sexual way too. Since I was young, I’ve craved to have “the guys.” I’ve never had a group of guys I’ve hung out with regularly. And, I’m not talking about a gaggle of gay men either. I’m talking about a group of men, gay or straight, who hung out all the time and were just real. We could rely on each other to have our backs, no matter what. He seemed like a guy who would fit that mold. He was a genuine good guy. I always try to surround myself with individuals like him, but it’s not easy.
When the flight attendant was coming by handing out drinks and asking for food/snack orders, I wanted to buy him one of my favorite United Tapas snack boxes. Had she not asked him before she asked me, I probably would have done it, however, looking back I’m not disappointed it didn’t work out. It may have made him feel awkward or uncomfortable. I just wanted to show my appreciation first-hand for what he does, however, I didn’t want to do it at the expense of his comfort. He probably had no idea I was gay, but some people are uncomfortable taking handouts. I also loved watching him flirt with the flight attendants. He was quite a smooth operator without being overt or corny.
When the plane landed, he proved once again his gentleman status. He was “Mr. Chivalrous” helping all the women with their bags. I glanced over at his boarding pass for his connecting flight to Brussels and caught a glimpse of his rank, Major and his name. He turned to me just before stepping into the aisle and wished me luck on my pitch.
As we exited the plane, I snapped a picture as he walked away (trying not to be creepy!).
When I got to my hotel, I hopped online to see if I could look him up. I wasn’t going to stalk him. I was just curious to know more about him. I found him on LinkedIn and learned more about his educational/occupational background. It is vastly impressive. I resisted the urge to add him as a connection on there and went about my day.
While I was in Chicago, I planned to visit my friend who moved there a few months prior. I hit him up when I landed because I was going to try to meet him for dinner/drinks that evening instead of dining with my coworkers. He replied telling me he had a fever and wouldn’t be able to make it out while I was in town, and we’d connect at a later date.
This was going to truly be a work trip, so I dove in full force to make sure I delivered.
In only somewhat related news…
A photo I came across in my Facebook feed over the past week makes me smile every time I see it. I dove into researching all about it. I am fascinated by it and love the media attention it is receiving. This shouldn’t be getting media attention. It should simply stand on its own as an amazing display of love and affection. But, until homosexuals are treated as equals, I welcome the attention. I hope it inspires you to be more courageous in your life, as it has inspired me.
If you’d like to read the full story of what is happening in these images, click here.
Follow @onegayatatimeThe Horror!
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 28, 2012
Touchdown! After a long flight of writing a lot of blog entries, I finally landed in San Francisco. I was very happy to be away from New York. This was forced time to clear my head. It would be impossible to try to find a guy for a date from thousands of miles away, and I needed a break. Don’t get me wrong, I want a man to call my own, but the process of finding one is exhausting.
I rode to my hotel with a very chatty driver. He had lots of questions and comments for me. Many of the comments referred to women and our “shared” desire for them. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was gay. I just let him continue talking. It wasn’t that long of a ride.
I got to my hotel, and took my good ol’ time getting to the office. They didn’t know exactly what time I landed, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have any work for me yet anyway.
I was right. When I arrived at the office, they had no work for me the entire afternoon. This worked out quite well. It allowed me to update the blog and go for a nice long delicious lunch I didn’t have to pay for. When the workday was coming to a close, I made my way back to my hotel.
I’d been on Grindr all day hunting for a guy to either meet for a drink or have some fun with. Nothing was turning up. I recalled the last time I was out there. Originally, I had the same luck. That is, until I picked up signal from San Francisco. No such luck that day.
I thought about the other weapon in my arsenal. I could pull up adam4adam.com and see who was in the area. I managed to find a few sexy men to message. It was only a matter of time before one of them messaged me back. A few did, but many of them were flakes. A few of them were unattractive as soon as I saw their faces as well. I asked a few to hang out, and the ones only interested in sex, I proposed coming to my hotel. Some of the guys on Grindr offered bl*wjobs, but I was looking to get it in.
One guy was very willing to make the journey to my hotel, and he was a bottom and looked pretty sexy. I told him to come by and gave him the details. I had one failsafe. They would not be able to come up to my room without me picking them up from the lobby. If I was unsatisfied with what showed up, I could hop back in the elevator and shut the door. That’s terrible, I know, but you never know what will show up when push comes to shove.
I was doing it again. I ended a relationship and simply fell back into old habits of hooking up outside of a relationship. I wasn’t thrilled with myself, but I was giving myself a free pass while in San Francisco.
I would have to put off dinner until after my evening tryst arrived. I was hungry, but I wouldn’t have time to get dinner before he came by. When he arrived, I collected the man from the lobby. He was a good-looking Aussie.
We got up to my room and talked about where we were from and our stories. He sat on the bed and talked with me. He seemed like a pretty cool guy. He was a bit of a vagabond. I liked his traveling experience. I was envious of it.
When the moment was right, we both went in for a kiss. This was followed by LOTS of kissing. Lots! He seemed quite nervous. I was trying to get him to relax a bit. I took my time with him gently feeling his body. He was a good kisser. This was a good sign.
Slowly I began peeling off some of the many layers he was wearing until we were both naked. He had a decent body. He was skinny, but not exactly muscular and defined. The kissing became more passionate and the petting grew heavier. When we were pretty far along, I whispered in his ear, “I want to be inside you.” He responded the same sentiment, so I reached for the condom and lube I had in the nightstand drawer.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Now I know I say this in a lot of posts, but this time, it may be too graphic for even those who are normally turned on by my warnings. Just be forewarned. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so!
I inserted myself inside him. He felt great. He seemed to really be enjoying himself as well. We were about two minutes in when something didn’t feel quite right. I took a whiff of the air, and immediately knew what was wrong. I looked down in horror, and it was all I could do to keep myself from vomiting all over this man.
I immediately pulled out and hustled to the bathroom. We both knew what was wrong. I tossed the condom in the trash and began scrubbing myself. I casually suggested a shower. I was trying to maintain my composure so this man wouldn’t feel worse than he already did. This was horrific, but I still had the man’s ego in the back of my mind.
He suggested I go first. I’m not sure why. All I could think about was his uncomfortable state while I showered. He made his way to the toilet and took care of himself while I washed up in the shower. When I finished, I left the bathroom so he could do whatever he needed to do.
I was still a little shaky and trying not to think about what just happened. I’d encountered this before, but never to this extent.
When he emerged from the bathroom, you could have knocked me over with a feather. He actually suggested we keep going. I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. At this point, I no longer had the man’s feelings in mind but only my own sanity. I told him, “No. I think I’m done for the night.” He didn’t stop apologizing. “Don’t worry about it. It happens. Part of the territory,” I reassured him while he got dressed.
And then, when I didn’t think this man could surprise me any more than he already did, he suggested we grab food since he hadn’t eaten anything yet either. “No. I think I’m just going to order room service or something but thanks,” I added.
Just as he was walking out the door, my phone rang. It was San Francisco. I explained to my departing guest that I needed to take the call and gave him a wave goodbye. I couldn’t wait for him to be out of my sight so I could stop thinking about what happened.
“Helloooooo. How are you? Are you Grindring?” he said as I picked up the phone. All I could think in the back of my head was, if you only knew! I simply replied, “I’m single. I can do whatever I want.” We talked about our schedules for the week and planned a night we could grab a drink together. He suggested we meet in The Castro since I didn’t make it up there during my last visit. Once our plans were solidified, I hung up and tried to figure out what to do for dinner.
Joe’s Crab Shack was a block away and was one of the few places still open at that hour. I decided to go there. This would be the second mistake of the night, as this was the worst seafood I’d ever had. I couldn’t finish it. I was literally wiping the seasoning off the crab legs with paper towels, and I still could barely tolerate them.
If this was a sign of what was to come from my San Francisco trip, I was going to lock myself in my hotel room when I wasn’t at work. The positive was, it certainly couldn’t get much worse…
Follow @onegayatatimeDeep Pockets
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 16, 2012
Since deciding to end things with Smiles, I’d already been on one date and had one hookup. I certainly hit the ground running. I felt slightly guilty all this was going on before we even had the chance to formally end things, but then again, things never really formally began between us.
I wasn’t wasting any time either. I had been talking to a really nice guy on adam4adam.com and set up a date to grab drinks with him after work Friday evening. It was a bit awkward because this was truly a blind date.
He had two pictures on a4a, but neither was clear and one didn’t include a face. When I asked him to send me a better face picture, he told me he didn’t like taking pictures of himself. Of course a red flag raised in my mind, but I had nothing to lose either. If I arrived and the guy was unacceptable, I was right next to the Port Authority bus terminal. I would be home in no time with little of my time wasted.
We agreed to grab drinks at Arriba Arriba in Hell’s Kitchen. It was conveniently located between his apartment and my office, and like I said, it wasn’t far from my transportation hub to go home.
As I left my office and began walking north, I was quite nervous. I’d never been on a true blind date before. I’d at least seen pictures of their faces, but this time I had no idea what he looked like. I joked with him, “Not gonna lie. Not sure what you look like… Haha.” It didn’t take him to respond: “Sorry mate. Don’t like taking pictures of myself. We will find each other… haha. You can ask me to leave once you see me and how ugly I am. Lol.” I didn’t care all that much at this point for the picture. I was already going in blind. I replied, “No apologies needed. Just tellin’ ya you’re gonna have to find me…”
I waited for him on the street corner. I put that time in a good location to good use. I surfed Grindr in HK for any new prospects. I know some may say that is classless considering I was waiting for a date, but I’m not in HK all that often anymore, and there is more talent in that neighborhood than where I work. He finally arrived and approached me. I asked how his trek to HK was, and we went inside to find a table.
When we learned we could only stand at the bar since we weren’t ordering food, we decided to go elsewhere. I was at a bit of a loss because I hadn’t been in the neighborhood for some time. I didn’t know of a good place for us to go for a drink. Luckily, this guy was good on his feet. He suggested Eatery, and we were off.
We grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a few rounds of drinks. We chatted for a long time about a myriad of things. The whole time, he kept his ball-cap on. Beyond the fact that he should know it’s bad manners, especially since he was an older gentleman, I was also worried there may be no hair under there. I’m not shallow, and looks are not everything to me. But, if he was balding without shaving his head, I wasn’t sure I could deal with that. (Smiles shaved his head and I was obviously okay with that).
We talked about our upbringings. He lived a bicoastal lifestyle, living in California and South Carolina. He also was shipped off to boarding school in Switzerland, where his grandparents lived. I grew up on a farm and went to public school. We had quite the education/socio-economic divide before. This is one thing I‘m not sure I am capable of getting past. I’m sure if it was the right guy, I could handle him coming from wealth, but it’s something that makes me quite uneasy. He came from money, and a lot of it.
I also learned he leads a very lavish lifestyle. He told me about his plans to purchase a house in Barcelona. He’d recently traveled there to scope out some places. He also told me about the $200,000.00 loan he gave a friend and was never paid back because the friend died and left his only possession, his apartment, to someone else. He told me about his lavish trips to the Caribbean islands recently. The list goes on.
Ironically enough, he wasn’t talking about all these because he was trying to impress me (Or at least it didn’t come off that way, which is fine). It simply came up in conversation or I coaxed them out with questions. I just felt uncomfortable with our socio-economic differences. I don’t really aspire to the position of kept man. I want someone who will share the financial burdens with me equally. I know a lot of people would love to find someone rich to marry, but money means very little to me when it comes to love. I think like I would constantly feel like less of a man if I had everything provided for me constantly, and I contributed far less to the relationship. Maybe this is something I will learn to get over in time, but for now, it makes me uneasy.
I learned how he continued to build his wealth and his professional relationship with a family in Canada. He told me about all the businesses he was involved in, and I started to worry he was another Smiles — Too much on his plate to commit to a real relationship. I also learned he wasn’t out to many people in his life, even after he’d been in a nine-year relationship with a man who left his wife for him. It ended when the man cheated on him while he was away on business. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him still being in the closet. He’d experienced too much and was far too old to still be in denial of his true self. I wasn’t sure I wanted a “project” at that age.
Drinks quickly turned into dinner. We stayed at the bar and made friends with the waitress. She was super sweet and very interested in chatting with us. Over our meal, we conversed more, and I learned we share a lot of the same morals and interests. We had similar outlooks in life.
He also became much more physical as the night progressed. He constantly had his hand on my leg rubbing my thighs and caressing the back of my knee. I started to do the same. Periodically, he would stand and give me a big ol’ bear hug. It was sweet. I liked knowing he was a passionate physical man. I needed that after Smiles constant distance.
Six hours later, we were ready to leave the bar. He decided to walk me to the bus. I thought when we exited the restaurant we’d exchange a kiss and go our separate ways. He was a true gentleman and walked me to the Port Authority. Not only that, but he walked me to my gate to wait for my bus and stood there waiting with me. It was midnight, and he was being a total sweetheart. He stood anxiously next to me as if he didn’t know what to do or how to close the date. He wasn’t really out, so I had a feeling a goodnight kiss in front of a large group of strangers was out of the question. When my bus arrived, he said goodbye and we agreed to be in touch.
As I rode home from the date, I wasn’t entirely sure what I thought of him. He became more attractive as the night went on, but I wasn’t sure if that was his personality or the alcohol stepping in for average looks.
I had a lot to think about. It was clear to me he was interested in me. The next day, he texted to see if I was interested in catching a movie that evening. I told him I had plans to hang with friends locally, but if they fell through, I’d let him know. When I decided to keep my plans, I texted him to let him know. He wasn’t all that concerned considering he had hopped on a flight to Boston to hang out with friends and go to a party. Yup, hopped on a flight that day. He obviously didn’t have a planned flight considering he asked me to go to the movies — Unless he was planning to fly me to Boston to do so…
That night, while out with my friends, I called Boston. He told me some of his new exciting war stories, and I told him of my trepidations about Deep Pockets. He told me I was nuts to write him off based on financial differences, so I decided to see where things went over the next week or so.
We texted a few times more, but interest wasn’t strong on either end as the text messages slowly came to an end. I was on to the next prospect…
Follow @onegayatatimeTo Kiss or Be Kissed
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on February 7, 2012
Goodbye 2011 and all the hardship that came with it. 2011 was a tough year, and I was ready to kiss it bon voyage.
New Year’s Eve had arrived, and so did Boston. He came to New York City to celebrate with some friends. They were staying at a hotel in Hell’s Kitchen and going to a bar to ring in the new year. We’d been in close contact about meeting up while he was visiting for some time.
We made plans to meet that night before I met Smiles for dinner, however these plans would be broken. As the night’s close grew nearer, Boston realized he wouldn’t have time, so we agreed to try to meet on New Year’s Day.
Instead, I killed time spying on my neighbors across the street with my roommate before venturing into the city for the night. It appeared we’d discovered two ‘mos living over there after some close examination. However, their blinds have been drawn now for quite some time, hindering further “study.”
Smiles and I had been texting about our plan for the evening. We were going to grab dinner somewhere along the way to the party on the Lower East Side, but when he tried to make a reservation for the restaurant downstairs, he realized the difficulty that may pose. Instead he proposed to make beef stroganoff for the two of us at his apartment. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea because I was looking forward to a romantic dinner for two, but it would have to suffice. (Now you can begin to see why I hate New Years).
After we finished eating, we took a cab to the apartment. Smiles spent a good portion of it on the phone with his mother. I’d already made all my new year’s calls on the walk to Smiles’ apartment from the PATH. I didn’t want to be on my phone the rest of the night trying to call people so I got it out of the way before starting our night together. I thought what he was doing was rude. When he hung up, you could cut the tension in the cab with a knife. Neither of us had anything to talk about. The night was not off to a good start.
We arrived at the party and were greeted by a very nice gentleman who was not the host. He was one of the guys Smiles had gone to Six Flags months earlier (whom he didn’t remember without a reminder). A trip I wasn’t invited on and still bitter about. When the host emerged from the shower, Smiles volunteered to run to the corner store to get necessary supplies. Apparently he wasn’t the best of hosts (or so said Smiles). He asked if I wanted to join him or stay and made sure I was okay with staying.
I took the opportunity to get to know the guy who greeted us while I waited for Smiles to return and more guests to arrive. More people joined us in waves, and it was a pleasure to meet them all. I sat on the couch talking to one in particular for some time. He seemed like a really great guy. Later in the night, I would learn from Smiles that this guy told him how great I was after learning we were together. “He had nothing but glowing praises for you,” Smiles divulged.
A majority of the night, Smiles wasn’t paying attention to me. He was far more concerned with standing in as host. He made sure everyone had a full drink at all times, including me. I had to tell him to cool it because I was getting too drunk too fast. I don’t think he realized I was also filling my own drinks besides what he brought me. I was making plenty of conversation with a lot of the other guys at the party in the meantime. Ironically enough, we were talking about dating. I was giving some of the younger guys my “fatherly advice” from my experiences, which is absurd considering I’m out less than two years. I did all this without mentioning my blog once, no matter how much I wanted to direct them to it. Smiles was still unaware I was writing OneGayAtATime.
When the ball was about to drop, the whole crowd gathered around the TV in the host’s bedroom. Smiles asked if I wanted to pile in, but I told him my lack of interest in watching the ball drop. We huddled by the door as Smiles snapped pictures of the group from the doorway. When 2012 arrived, he turned to me and laid a nice kiss on me. When he pulled back, he went in a second time. It was one of his better kisses and it was sweet, but I’m not sure it could make up for the lack of attention I received all night. It was like we were at the same party, but we certainly weren’t together.
As I talked to the other guys, I felt like I was revealing a big secret that Smiles and I were dating. No one knew, and it was as if I was letting the cat out of the bag. I felt uncomfortable about that.
The music came up and the furniture was pushed aside. The living room was now a dance floor. Smiles and I have never gone out dancing together, so I was relishing the opportunity to have a little fun with him. I started dancing with him, and he started laughing at me. It wasn’t completely insulting, but it was also a slightly belittling. I think I was making him uncomfortable (and I am not a bad dancer by any means!).
When I went to refill my drink, Smiles was in the middle of the group dancing up a storm just as I’d seen him bust a move in Central Park. I was hurt. He didn’t want to dance with me, but he did want to dance with everyone else. When I looked down, my cup had only ice in it. So I made the conscious decision to drink away my sorrows. Johnny Walker Black and I huddled in the kitchen and had a good time together.
When someone asked if I wanted to go smoke on the balcony, I jumped at the opportunity. When I got out there, there was a small group including the guy who told Smiles how great I was.
This is where the night gets foggy. There was a guy who was late to the party who was fawning all over me from that point on. He told me I was gorgeous and paid me more compliments than I can remember. I vaguely remember pointing out to him that I was dating Smiles, but that didn’t stop him. He kept laying it on thick.
From that night, the next thing I remember was walking home behind him p*ssed because I was chasing after him. We weren’t walking together. I was walking about ten paces behind him.
Smiles woke me in the morning. I was naked, so I knew we had sex, and I had an uncomfortable moist feeling between my cheeks, so I knew I was the bottom. I thought back and could remember flashes of sex from the night before, but I couldn’t remember anything about leaving the party.
After I searched for my underwear and my dignity, neither of which I could find without assistance, I picked up my phone to check messages. Apparently in my drunken stupor, I wiped out my phone trying to get into it too many times with a failed password. It was back to factory settings.
I told Smiles, and he recounted the walk home. It involved me arguing profusely that we were headed in the wrong direction (Isn’t that ironic). It involved me tapping a French woman on the shoulder and welcoming her to the country. And it involved Smiles being annoyed by my antics.
“And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.
Follow @onegayatatimeRallying Friends
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 30, 2011
Every year, for the past four years, I’ve hosted an annual holiday party. Ironically, I started it with a First Annual Holiday Bash because I wanted it to become one of my holiday traditions. It would be the one time of year I gathered with my closest friends and spent time with them around the holidays to show just how much I truly appreciate their friendship.
From its first year, it’s been a big hit. An invitation one year is no guarantee of an invitation the following year. I always make sure I surround myself with the people in my life I care most about. If within the following year I fall out of touch with someone, I don’t extend an invitation.
Earlier this year, my friend reached out to me to plan weekends in December. She knows of my party and wanted to make sure I wasn’t hosting it the same night she was celebrating her birthday. We both picked dates and put it to bed.
Months later, I found out I was being evicted from my apartment since my landlord finally sold it. Our eviction date was November 30th; eleven days before the planned date of my holiday party.
This was one tradition I was not ready to relinquish, not matter what it took. Some of my friends look forward to the party a full year in advance. I make an incredible spread (not allowing anyone to bring any food of any sort), and everyone fasts for an entire day leading up to the party.
This posed a serious challenge. I would have to move into a new apartment, get it settled and cater for about forty people in ten days — A near impossible feat. However, my determination is not to be underestimated.
When I sent out my Evite, my sister immediately criticized the invitation of N. She was shocked to see I would invite him, but she also didn’t have the full story.
Apparently over the course of my short relationship with N, I mentioned my annual holiday party. As the holiday season was drawing nearer, he asked for the date of said party: “When is your holiday party so I can put it in my calendar? I’m trying to attend as many holiday parties as possible without missing one.”
Did he just invite himself to my holiday party?! I mean, he was on the maybe list, I’ll admit that. But I had no intention of inviting him in the first round of invitations.
This isn’t because I was holding a grudge over our failed relationship. It was mainly because I was disappointed in him. Considering we lived across the street from each other, I thought I’d at the very least be seeing him periodically. However, since our last discussion about our failed relationship, I hadn’t seen him once. I still had never been to his apartment considering I basically walked past it every day. He never put in an effort to be my friend following our breakup, so I no longer felt the need to attempt myself. I’d given up.
When he invited himself, I had to quickly think of the best and most dignified way to deal with the situation at hand. I started with honesty. “Oh.. Are you invited to my holiday party???” I quipped. “I’m …. just gonna go… f*ck myself…” he responded. I successfully made him feel uncomfortable, but then lightened the blow. I couldn’t do much. My hands were tied. I’m not rude enough to tell him he can’t come, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted him there either. “HAHAHA. Just giving you sh*t. Sending out the Evites today…”
When others friends learned of his attendance, they weren’t happy. I was confused by this. I didn’t think anyone would care. When we were dating, my friends loved him. Everyone approved and expressed this to me. He was a very charismatic guy to be around and played nice with all my friends. It was one of the biggest things that attracted me to him.
However, when he crushed me at the end of our relationship, everyone’s opinion of him quickly shifted.
I have to admit, I don’t know if my opinion wouldn’t have shifted so drastically. If he didn’t do anything to hurt me, I would see no need for malice toward him. I wouldn’t be his best friend, but I would certainly be civil.
This wasn’t the case with my friends. In an overwhelming show of support, they all rallied against him and attempted to convince me to retract my invitation.
I was blown away. I never experienced anything like that before from my friends. I was truly touched.
However, I would not be able to fulfill their requests. I was not capable of uninviting him. I also felt it gave him the satisfaction of thinking he still had an effect on my life. I’d completely moved on. It took a long time, and I went through a lot of turmoil to get to that point. But, I didn’t need him to know that. (Not quite sure if he’s still reading the blog…)
One friend, J, was particularly poignant in his disapproval. “I’ll crack his head open.” I told him I was going to be civil, but I wasn’t going to pay much attention to him when he arrived. “Honestly, I think its risky having him there. Especially since he is a drama oriented person.” He pointed out that N may bring up the blog in front of Smiles just to p*ss me off. “Good point… Going to have to tell him not to mention the blog,” I added. “He may leave early since no one really wants him there.”
K and some of my other friends expressed their lack of interest in interacting with him, and he didn’t really know many others. J responded, “If I have anything to do with it he will leave early.” I couldn’t believe how passionate J was getting about this. He’d never even met N. “Look I’ll be civil… but if he gets out of line you let me know.”
One of my other friends who witnessed my rebound in Martha’s Vineyard, Shorty, made the following suggestion: “You should warn him that your friends aren’t really fond of him so he doesn’t feel bombarded if people are mean to him.” “No one will be mean to him, but they’re not going to go out of their way to be nice,” I speculated. “Haha. I might be mean if I happen to end up talking to him :),” she finished.
I couldn’t believe how much my friends were rallying behind me. To be honest, I thought they all thought I blew things out of proportion when it ended. I thought they all looked at me like I was crazy for being so emotionally broken up after dating someone for a month and a half. He really did break me down a little bit, and I still feel some of the lasting effects of that relationship, as much as I would like to put it in the past and forget it. But, I thought they all thought I was being melodramatic. Apparently, they validated my sentiments.
On another level, N wanted to bring his new boyfriend. I’m sure he’s a sweet guy, but I’d never met him. I didn’t want him at my holiday party. It wasn’t the time or the place to meet him. Selfishly and childishly I also wanted the upper hand. I wanted N to see me happy with someone else, Smiles, while he didn’t have his security blanket to hold onto. I know that is very immature, but in the dating world, I am still a teenager. I’d like anyone to disagree with me they wouldn’t want to do the same thing.
So, I told him he couldn’t bring him. I explained he situation, and I think N accepted my reasoning. It was going to be an interesting night regardless. Many variables were bouncing around, and no one could predict the night, even if some of my friends wanted to start a pool of bets on how early in the night N departed…
Follow @onegayatatimeBrooklyn
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 21, 2011
After an afternoon romp in the sheets, Smiles and I hopped on my motorcycle and rode out to Brooklyn for the day.
Smiles has a ’68 Ford Mustang parked in a garage out there, and it hadn’t been run in a few months. He wanted to make sure it would still start and take it around the block. I was thrilled because I was finally going to get to see the car! I had a crush on that car from the moment I learned of its existence, and Smiles knew this. I thought it made him sexier, and it turned me on.
Smiles rode on the back of my motorcycle clutching onto me as we rode over the Williamsburg Bridge and around Brooklyn. It was the first time had gone for a ride longer than a few blocks. I really enjoy riding with him on the bike.
We arrived at the garage and removed the cover from the car. I immediately took my phone out and began snapping pictures with my phone. I put my bike in his parking spot while he pulled the car out of the garage. I tossed my helmet in the back seat and hopped in. I immediately reached over and gave his thigh a squeeze to show him my appreciation and excitement.
As we drove down the street, every single person we passed by was enamored by the car. A kid stopped in the middle of the street with his mouth gaping as he watched the car come closer until he realized he was in the middle of the street. One man even took out his camera and snapped pictures while we sat at a stoplight. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with a crush on this car.
He proposed we grab lunch somewhere fun, so we scoped out the neighborhood as we drove. We found a parking space and decided to walk around a bit until we found a pub to grab food in, Spike Hill. We settled in, and as per usual, Smiles started chatting up the waitress. After we ordered, unbeknownst to me, he asked her, “Do you know anywhere in the neighborhood where he could get his haircut fixed.” I wasn’t thrilled with paying to have my hair fixed. I was complacent to just let it grow out, but Smiles was pretty persistent.
She gave us directions to a barber up the street, Brooklyn General Barber Emporium, and I begrudgingly agreed to partake in the hair repair excursion.
We got to the barber shop, and from the looks of it, I was a little worried. They weren’t exactly welcoming either. There was a long wait, so we decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood to kill time.
Smiles was interested in opening a bar in the area, so we scoped out some possible locations and realtors. We also popped into some cool hipster shops.
While in one of them, there were two gay men working together making a hysterical fuss. “You got to open one, so I want to open one too. It’s only fair.” “Is this the hunter green one?” “No, stupid! That one is just green.” “Well what about this one?” “That one is celery.” I couldn’t stop laughing at their commentary. I also noticed a poster on the wall I found very humorous. I was very close to buying it, if only I had someone I could give it to who would actually display it.
The time came to go back to the barber. It was getting dark, so I told Smiles we didn’t have to do it that evening. But once again, he was pretty insistent.
Finally it was my turn in the chair. I ended up with the female stylist who asked what I wanted done. She was extremely nice and full of energy. However, I use the term she loosely. I couldn’t be sure 100%, but I had my suspicions she wasn’t always a she. Regardless, she was a doll. Smiles stood in the wings while I explained what happened and what I wanted done. “Oh honey! What happened to you!? I could have done a better job drunk! You want me to butch you up?” she said. “YES!” Smiles said from behind me.
Once she started, Smiles returned to his seat intently watching her cut my hair. I found it extremely cute and adorable how he took an interest in my appearance. She asked me, “Is that your boyfriend?” I simply replied, “Yes.” Then she excused herself for the question on the off-chance I wasn’t actually gay. I told her, “No harm, no foul.”
In the end, Smiles and I were both very happy with my new haircut. I thought I was going to be very uncomfortable with it since it was so much shorter than I usually cut my hair, but I was thrilled and shocked. She really did a great job fixing my cut.
We also took the walk back to the car as an opportunity to discuss the status of my barber. He agreed that miss used to be a mister.
On the way to the garage, Smiles proposed going to see the new Twilight movie. I was surprised, because usually at this point, I get the boot. I thought I was going home after I dropped him off because he’d have plans with a friend, but that wasn’t the case. I explained to him I’d never seen any of the Twilight movies, so I was worried I’d be a little lost, but I told him I was willing if he got me caught up. He took the time to explain what I’d missed. We rode back to the garage, swapped the car for the bike and made our way back to Manhattan…
Follow @onegayatatimeSexual Energy
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 20, 2011
I was elated after my romantic dinner with Smiles. What started out as a crap shoot of a night turned out to be quite and evening for the two of us to grow our relationship.
And, like any morning I wake up next to a sexy man after a solid night’s sleep, I was ready for sex. Smiles, however, was not. I didn’t want to wake him, so I snuck out to the kitchen to brew coffee and make breakfast.
Shortly thereafter, Smiles joined me in the kitchen. He came up behind me while I was making eggs and sausage, wrapped his arms around me and planted a kiss on my neck. Now, this is how I like to spend my morning. He grabbed a stool and sat at the counter while I finished preparing breakfast. He detailed for me his back pain, so I did my best to massage it out. It was no use. The knot was huge and not going anywhere anytime soon. Smiles called his energy specialist and made an appointment for that afternoon.
After we finished breakfast, we hopped on my bike and made our way into the city. We were in a bit of a rush to get him to his appointment on time. I dropped him in front of the building and told him I’d join shortly. I was going to poke around the shops in Limelight since I’d never been. He looked a little disappointed I wasn’t coming up, so I made it a point not to dawdle in the shops. I walked up to the “office” and entered the door. I had no idea what to expect since I did not utilize these types of services. I barely even go to a regular physician.
When I walked in, an attractive man who I can only compare to Matthew McConaughey by the way he was dressed greeted me as I explained I was there with Smiles. He invited me into a room with six massage tables occupied by people of all ages and types. I sat on the couch while Smiles had his energy “fixed” watching this man work his magic. He took the time to explain and demonstrate things to me while he worked. I feel he felt the need to prove something to me as a skeptic.
When Smiles finished, he joined me on the couch. I have to admit, while a skeptic, I felt the knot before his energy session, and I also felt the absence of a knot after. It was impressive. When he composed himself, we got ready to leave. The specialist said to Smiles, “You didn’t tell me you were dating Ed Norton.” I know it was meant as a compliment, but I wasn’t sure if I saw it as one. Regardless, I smiled and said goodbye.
We hopped back on the motorcycle and made our way to Smiles’ apartment. He needed to shower before continuing with his day, so I sat on the couch waiting for him.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When he was done, he walked towards me in a towel, and I took the opportunity to seduce him. I grabbed the towel and pulled him closer. The towel almost fell off, but instead just exposed his manhood to me while we kissed passionately. I took hold of his exposed member and began to pleasure him.
He backed away and said, “C’mon,” as he walked to the bedroom. He stripped off my clothes, and we hopped into bed. We were FINALLY having sex again. We rolled around between the sheets until he found his way on his back. Not only were we finally having sex, but I got to top again. With his legs on my shoulders, I told him I wanted to see him finish because I knew it was something that usually excited me enough to get me off.
Of course, this wasn’t the case once again for me. He expressed his desire to make me cum. At that moment, I knew it was going to be nearly impossible for me to finish. We talked shortly about the issue. I assured him it was through no fault of his own. I laid next to him and attempted to finish myself off, but I couldn’t conquer the pressure. After what felt like five minutes, I gave up and apologized.
Smiles rinsed off in the shower, and I followed shortly after. While he was in the shower, I tried to see if I was able to climax without him in the room. I wasn’t successful. But, while in the shower, I filed through my mental spank bank and was able to climax. I never told Smiles about that out of embarrassment and the struggle to figure out what was preventing me from fully enjoying sex.
I was still trying to get over the shame of my embarrassing moment while still trying to enjoy the fact we had good sex after a dry spell. I got dressed, and we discussed our plan for the day. We were heading out to Brooklyn to run some errands, but I was mostly concerned with trying to enjoy the day without harping on the afternoon’s uncomfortable exchange…
Follow @onegayatatimeAm I Broken?
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 13, 2011
The following topic of conversation is very embarrassing and very personal. It’s not easy to talk about, but I have a strong feeling I am not the only one who suffers from the issue. Warning: It may make some of you uncomfortable. I am exposing myself in this post, but I feel I need to face my demons to be able to get over them. I also feel guilty writing about this, because it’s a bit of an invasion of privacy for others, but I also feel it’s necessary if I’m being honest with myself and this blog. I wonder if someone out there may have insight to help me and others with this predicament. I feel the need to shine a light on this issue, as no one is talking about it.
My intentions were obvious this time around with Smiles. My hand was down his pants fondling him until I was pushed away with a grunt. There was no misconstruing my intentions. After being denied sex yet again by Smiles, I felt the need to consult my council.
I called Boston for his take on the situation. I explained being denied sex on more than one occasion. His immediate response was, “Oooooo. That’s not good. Something isn’t right.”
I responded, “I know, right? I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a mountain out of a mole hill.”
We chatted about the issue, and he told me I needed to address the issue. “Sex is an important part of any relationship, and based on what I read in your blog, sex is important to you,” he added. We discussed the best way to bring it up. The main consensus was waiting until the relevant situation arose. He suggested I don’t bring it up over dinner. If I was denied again, I should bring it up immediately to find the root of the problem.
This was the point in the conversation where I made a small confession of my own. I was worried I may have been to blame for the quantity. I explained my climaxing issue to Boston for the first time in full detail. I told him, while I’d been with Smiles a few times, I had yet to climax. This was through no fault of Smiles. This was a common occurrence for me dating back to the days I was with Broadway. In fact, I feel it was a large part of the reason we broke up. It put a lot of strain on the relationship. He took it personally, even though I assured him it had nothing to do with him. I was still quite attracted to him and still received pleasure from sex, but I wasn’t finishing.
I never was able to find the root of my problem. For a while, I hoped it would fix itself. When it didn’t I explored a number of theories. The leading one being I hardwired my brain to function in a specific way in relation to sex.
For 16+ years, my main outlet for my sexual frustrations was viewing gay porn and pleasuring myself. I wasn’t dating men, and I wasn’t exactly a lady killer either. I would go home, open the laptop, and take care of myself. I worried my brain was hardwired to react only to that stimuli.
I wanted nothing more than to “fix” this issue. For some time, I masked it by prepping myself. If I knew Broadway and I would be having sex, I watched porn before I saw him to build up a “spank bank.” I referred to this when he got me close to finishing to get me over that last hill. It worked for some time, but eventually that solution lost its effectiveness. That’s when things got really bad. I got so stressed about it, when the moment came, there was nothing I could do but think about my lack of performance. I was so wrapped up in the issue, there was no unwinding me at that point.
I had many frank discussions with Broadway on the subject. After discussing it, we agreed not to talk about the issue for some time. It was the only way I was going to be able to relieve some of the pressure I was putting on myself. Eventually it did the trick, and I had my happy ending. However, it wasn’t a 100% solution. Most of the time, I was only able to cum after he performed oral sex. A majority of our relationship, I never climax from anal penetration. The issue was still there. It was just lessened.
It wasn’t as big an issue with San Francisco because we were an entire country apart. When I was physically with him out in San Francisco, I had no issue. When we Skyped, it took slightly longer, but eventually I climaxed. After San Francisco, I slept with a handful of guys. I specifically remember it being an issue with The Trainer. I know it’s not an issue of physical attraction, because he had a body like a god! However, I had to finish myself off that time, and it took some time.
When I was dating N, it took a long time, but I almost always finished. He started noticing my “condition” as time went on. We discussed it lightly, but I think he was under the impression it just took me a little longer than most guys to finish. As I’ve said before, I had to resort to my “spank bank.” Many times, what I was imagining involved the two of us. I wasn’t even imagining porn stars. It was the two of us in different scenario/locations other than in my bed.
Over the summer, it wasn’t really and issue for me. I had no strong connection to the guys I was sleeping with. It was purely recreation and my own need to get some crazy out of my system. I had no pressure or image to keep up. I was just having fun, and it worked.
The first time Smiles and I had sex, I bottomed. No matter who I have been with, I have never finished from bottoming. It has its pleasures, but it never had that effect on me — Hence my status as a preferred top. With Smiles, there was one time when I was very close during oral sex. I was right there, but I just couldn’t close that final gap. After we had sex other times, and I still didn’t finish, I began to morph my theory.
I have a very high pain threshold. Because of this, I wonder if I am in turn cursed with a high pleasure threshold. Maybe it takes more to get me off. I also wondered if my stimulation comes from something more visual. Maybe I need to witness the penetration to climax. Again, these are all just shots in the dark, no pun intended, but I want nothing more than to figure out this enigma. However, I haven’t been able to test my theory at this point.
Smiles expressed his interest early on to work with me to figure this out. It meant a great deal to hear him verbalize this to me. I need someone who can be understanding and patient with me if I’m going to lick this thing.
After I talked to Boston, after a drunk night at the bar, I discussed in length with D my issue. This was really tough for me because I am so embarrassed by the situation. It makes me feel like less of a man. He was helpful in our discussion and helped me feel more comfortable talking about it.
I also called to Broadway. I didn’t exactly feel comfortable talking to him about the details of my new relationship, nor did I think it was fair to him. But, he had experience with this issue. He knew what was going on with me, and maybe now that we weren’t together, he could help me find the key. When I told him I was being denied sex, he immediately said, “Something’s wrong! That’s not normal. You need to talk to him about it.” Everyone was telling me what I already knew, but not what I wanted to hear. In thinking I was partially responsible for the situation, I brought up my issue. Maybe he was avoiding sex with me because I couldn’t finish.
Broadway told me I needed to stop being so stupid about it. I was stressing myself out over it, and that wasn’t going to solve anything. I needed to acknowledge to myself the issue and go see someone about it. I told him I had been entertaining the idea of going to see a therapist, but it takes a very special type of therapist for such a sensitive issue. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to find in the yellowpages. He again just indicated I needed to talk to someone about it if I wanted to get over it. He also reminded me I needed to talk to Smiles directly about why we weren’t having sex more often.
The next morning when I woke, I sent Smiles a message detailing my desire for him to be in the bed next to me and how horny I was. He responded positively and seemed he would have been up for morning sex had he actually been there. I was surprised considering a few hours earlier I was denied.
We made plans for Sunday, and I went on with my pondering my issue for the rest of the day. Did he think I didn’t enjoy sex? That certainly isn’t the case. Even if I don’t finish, I still thoroughly enjoy sex and still get a body high from it. Did it bruise his ego to know I wasn’t being fully stimulated by him? I can assure him, it is me, not him. There were a million questions, but no solid answers.
One thing is clear. I need help. I cannot solve this problem on my own, but maybe talking about it with my therapist, Dr. WordPress, will help me face my demons head on and conquer them. Only time will tell…
Follow @onegayatatimeGreat Story, No Climax
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 12, 2011
Things weren’t exactly progressing smoothly in my mind between Smiles and I. In fact, things weren’t progressing at all when I come to think of it.
Instead of abandoning my relationship with him, I decided to put forth greater effort to ensuring its success. I’m not one to quit without a fight, so when Smiles texted me to ask how my day was going, I was quite elated. I told him it was going well and was anxious for work to be over. We made plans to go to dinner that evening after work. I was looking forward to it and was ready to make sure it wasn’t a repeat of our last date.
In turn, I asked him about his day, and he responded with an explanation. I explained I wouldn’t be done work until a little later, and I wasn’t sure exactly what time that would be. One of my coworkers was dragging his feet, and my day was beginning to drag on. It was a Friday, and I wanted nothing more than to see Smiles after a long day.
Smiles was running errands in my neighborhood and called when he was finished. I had a feeling I would be done shortly, but there really was no telling when I’d finish. Smiles occupied himself for some time. When he called again to check in on me, I was able to tell him I was about to be walking out the door. He was about to hit up Barracuda to have a drink with his bartender friends, but instead, we picked a place to meet.
I snuck up on him on the street and startled him with a big hug. We exchanged a kiss and started to walk towards Chelsea. We quickly found a spot to grab dinner. Smiles wasn’t drinking, but I certainly needed a drink. I ordered a glass of wine and took a big swig. I’d been talking up a storm from the time we kissed on the street. I was going to make sure the conversation flowed like a waterfall. He was well engaged all throughout dinner at Bar Baresco. I really felt very comfortable with him and was appreciating his company greater. It was night and day difference from the last date we had. I was realizing why I fell for him in the first place. No awkward pauses. No blank stares.
During my workday, I began drafting plans to build my new closet since I was moving. Smiles had much experience in this sort of thing, so I asked him for advice and to look over my plans. He gave his suggestions, and I appreciated his advice.
When we finished dinner, we hit up Barracuda. Smiles suggested it because he figured we’d say hi to his friends. When we arrived there, we found they weren’t working. Smiles ordered us two drinks. After relieving myself, we found a quiet corner to tuck ourselves in to sit and chat.
We discussed age and the ability to hang. He talked about how he used to be able to go out all the time all night long. We talked about growing older and looking forward to staying in and sitting on the couch on a Friday night.
We were growing even closer. As time progressed, I realized he was growing weary. I asked if he would like to get out of there, and he gladly obliged, but not before we played around with his scarf in about 20 different permutations around his neck and head.
As we walked outside, I proposed coming back to his place with him. He agreed. I thought I was sending a pretty clear signal of my intentions. We walked over to Seventh Avenue to hail a cab to no avail. I was not properly dressed for the weather. I was freezing. The Smiles did one of the sweetest things. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me to keep me warm. I reached up and grabbed his arms and brought him in closer. It was extremely romantic, and I wasn’t about to let this moment run away from me. It took a long time to get a cab, but I was relishing every second.
When we finally hailed one, we hopped in. He extended his hand beckoning for mine. He was winning me over big time! It was a complete 180. I was thrilled with his new-found affections. It painted a clearer picture of his true feelings for me. He was still interested in me. I was thrilled.
When we arrived at his place, he started cleaning. I kept yelling at him to stop. I didn’t care about the condition of his apartment. I would have liked to think of myself no longer as company, and more as companion. He sat on the couch, and I sat on his computer chair facing him while we chatted. After a while, I realized how ridiculous this setup was. I aimed to remedy it. I got up, walked over to the couch, moved the pile of papers from it, and sat next to him. He looked slightly uncomfortable by this, and I couldn’t fathom why.
He suggested we move to the bed. My goal was being accomplished. I was all too happy to move things to the bedroom. We climbed onto his bed. We talked and then began hugging each other. This morphed into spooning.
I was happy and hoping this would progress to sex, but I was sorely mistaken. After spooning for about ten seconds, he had his fill. He was ready to go to bed, and apparently I wasn’t part of that scenario. He went to brush his teeth, and was giving me all the signals it was time for me to go.
We said goodnight and exchanged a kiss at the door. Yet another night without sex. It was an enigma to me. I couldn’t figure him out. He spent the earlier portion of the night being utterly sweet and affectionate, but when it came time to end the night, the sparks were quickly doused.
I wished the night ended on a more positive note. I would have liked to go home a happy satisfied man, but yet again, I was debating in my head Smiles’ attraction to me…
Follow @onegayatatimeAt the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
One Gay at a Time 