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Separate Battle Camps
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 29, 2013
After spending a nice night at CK‘s apartment, I had a very hard time waking up the following morning. CK was fully motivated and had to be at work early, so he persisted in waking me up. This was quite the role reversal, as I was often the one dragging him out of bed (sometimes physically). I just wanted to spend the entire day in his bed wrapped up in his arms. Going to work was the last thing I wanted to do.
Things were improving on that front. I was making a lot of headway with my social media endeavors, and I had two interns to help me with this massive roll-out. I was developing a presence on Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest, WordPress, Instagram and SlideShare while revamping our presence on YouTube and Twitter. That being said, I still wanted to stay in bed all day.
CK finally motivated me to get out of bed and into the shower. I always enjoyed showering together, and today was no different. As I slowly emerged from my slumber under the warm jets of water, I began to fully appreciate CK’s body. I pressed it against mine while my soapy hands explored all his crevices. Being a water conservationist certainly had its benefits. I think CK was starting to regret waking me once he realized I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I was awake, and I was horny. I tried to get some action, but CK was on a mission to get ready for work. I needed a release. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate the entire day at work.
I laid down on the bed and began to take care of myself. CK immediately noticed and inquired what I was doing. I explained my situation, so he decided to pitch in on the effort. While I manually stimulated my member, he got to work on my prostate. Turned out, my libido was contagious, as CK began to pleasure himself as well. After a few minutes, I climaxed, only to be followed close behind by CK. Now, we could finally go about our day. I felt like I was awake, and I finally had a clear head (literally and figuratively). Nothing quite motivates you like a good morning orgasm.
We finished getting ready and were out the door rather early. We swung by our favorite place to grab breakfast before heading to work, Pick-A-Bagel. It sounds incredibly cheap, but it never disappoints. After we grabbed our food and coffees, we made our way to the subway. His train always came first (or I would narrowly miss mine), but today was my day. We parted ways, brown bags in hard, with a kiss as he waved goodbye from the subway platform.
That night after work, we planned to hit up yoga on the pier. As the day progressed, I learned CK probably wouldn’t be able to make it since he had to work late. I was still committed. I tried to encourage other friends to join me, but it was no use. Regardless, I still went and had a great workout. On my way home, I swung by the grocery store to get a few things for dinner. On my way into my apartment, I noticed a package for me. Like most people, I love getting mail. It always makes me feel special for some reason — The novelty has never worn off. When I got upstairs, I immediately opened my package.
It was the highly anticipated package from aussieBum. I’d been anxiously awaiting its arrival ever since they promised to send me some of their best underwear and bathing suits so I could review them on my blog. But, however large my excitement, I put the package aside and began working on dinner immediately. I wanted to food to be ready when CK arrived from a long day at work.
When he arrived, I showed him the package, and he grew quite excited. “I want a full fashion show when we’ve finished dinner!” he exclaimed.
As per usual, we ate our dinner in front of the TV, exchanging stories about our days. When we finished, we moved to my bedroom to lounge about. While he laid on the bed, I began to strip so I could model my new wares for him. As I moved from pair to pair, CK must have felt left out and asked if he could try some of them on. I asked that he not do so. I knew I’d want to include pictures of myself in them for the post, and I didn’t want anything to happen to them until I had time to snap the pictures. I’m not sure why, but this put his panties in such a bunch (pun intended).
I didn’t understand where his frustration was coming from. I thought my request was completely reasonable. He’d done nothing to deserve the underwear. They were not his. Why was he getting so bent out of shape. This, of course, led to an argument, and now, something so fun as modeling new underwear had now turned into a fight.
I’d had enough. I left the room with him in it so he could be miserable by himself and went back to the couch to watch TV. I know I was being as childish as he was, but I’d had enough. There was no reason we should be arguing about anything so fun. Sure, I could have just relented and let him try on the underwear. But, I wasn’t in the mood. If he was going to be so miserable, he could do so by himself.
That night, we went to bed not speaking to each other. There was no sex and no cuddling – All over a few pairs of underwear. Rarely had my California King felt so big, but that night, we might as well have been sleeping on opposite sides of the Hudson.
Night of Surprises
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 29, 2011
After an attempt to make lunch plans, Smiles and I were striking out to find time to get together after a week apart.
I told him I was heading home for the night and was about to leave work. However, I was pleasantly surprised to get the text, “Meet me for a drink at Extra Virgin. I haven’t heard from [my friend] confirming dinner yet, so I’m guessing it will be closer to 8:00 or he will flake.” I wasn’t thrilled with being second choice/fall-back, but I knew this was a friend he hadn’t seen in years who was in the city from L.A., so I was understanding.
I agreed to meet him and texted him when I arrived at the restaurant. “Oh goodness. I’ll be there in 10. Btw, I forgot I have a call from 6:00 – 6:30. My life is a pain-in-the-ass sometimes,” was the response I received. It didn’t help I was already feeling like an afterthought. Now I was learning the little time I had to spend with him was going to be interrupted by a half hour phone call.
I’d already been waiting for him for 15 minutes before he arrived. We exchanged a quick peck and a hug, and he suggested I could go inside while he made the call. I told him I could occupy myself outside while he took care of business.
While he talked with his movie team about next steps with their film, I sat on my phone playing with every app I could think of to pass the time. I checked my WordPress stats. I answered emails. I read everyone’s Twitter post that day. Anything I could do to keep busy.
When he finished his call, we grabbed a seat at the bar. The bartender was struggling to harvest a pomegranate, so I offered to help her. Smiles pointed out my culinary experience and told her she was in for a real treat. She was all too happy to receive my advice, as this was one chore she abhorred. After running to the restroom to wash my hands, I demonstrated for her how she could save herself some time and energy. She was very appreciative of my advice and thanked me.
Smiles and I placed our drink orders. We chatted over drinks on the spinning stools. I made it a point to turn my stool so I was facing him and our legs were interlocked. I heard all about his holiday on Long Island and the craziness he went through upon his return with his client. I told him about my relaxing trip home, my dysfunctional family, my Black Friday adventures, and my slow day at work.
At one point he had my his arms extended with his hands on my thighs rubbing them. He flippantly made the comment, “I love your big manly legs.” This was the first time he’d ever complimented my physically, so I took notice. He continued to rub them and massage them, and I continued to melt inside.
At that moment, he checked his phone and learned his friend wouldn’t be able to do dinner that evening, so they agreed upon breakfast the following morning.
With that, he turned to me and asked if I’d like to get dinner somewhere. Surprised, I told him, “Well. We’re already here. Why don’t we just eat here.” I was expecting to get the boot at any moment throughout the course of the evening, but instead I was extended a dinner invitation. Once again, I was happy to get to spend time with him.
We quickly placed our dinner orders and continued our conversation. Our dinner was very pleasant, and our meals were excellent. After we finished eating, we split the bill and began to walk down the street.
As per usual, when we reached the crossroad between his place and the PATH, we said goodbye. And, as per usual, it was said with a simple kiss and a gentle squeeze. I pulled him back in for another kiss and made it more than a peck. He smiled, and we said goodbye.
When I got back to Hoboken, on my walk to my apartment, I texted, “Mmmmmmm. I like you. You make me happy… Just felt the need to say that…” He responded twenty minutes later, “Awwww. 🙂 Thank you.” Clearly, he didn’t feel confident to reciprocate the sentiment just yet, which stung slightly, but then again, I already knew I was ready to move faster than was…
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 @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 