"Every Letter of the Alphabet" or "The 3rd guy I had sex with that day..."

I start this chuckling as I've just read my last post. I've decided to return to this after a long while away. I never meant to go so long without detailing my experiences, but I guess they began to feel routine. It turns out there's lots to depict, but let's start with what's freshest:

I started a career on Wall street recently. It's rather exerting. I find myself needing to expel excess energy every Friday with a desperation that comes from 40+ hours spent sitting in front of a computer every week. The last Friday was no exception. In fact by 2pm I had my new favorite Brittney song playing on repeat ("Trip to Your Heart"), and I danced a little at my desk with a huge smile on my face. I could feel it was going to be a good night, particularly because my favorite drinking buddy had already committed.

We started off by seeing Thor whilst drinking vitamin water zero with kettle one (try it). It was surprisingly good as testament to the first name in the ending credits, director Kenneth Brannaugh (I didn't know this watching it - look him up if you don't know hi,). And the actor that played Thor was an image I can't describe:


Needless to say I was... inspired by the end of the film.

The next hour was spent walking 20 blocks to my favorite gay dance club Rockit. My E dealer met us half way. Hours of dancing and drinking and boys and smiles... it's just like that scene in Black Swan when Natalie Portman does E and goes dancing... only better because there's hot men every where.

Eventually my friend's boy friend meets up with us and gives us blow/C. The night is a blur until my friends leave and I flirt with men until cops bust the club at 3:30am.

I proceed to drunkly stumble around Chelsea until through the wonders of gps enabled sex apps, I find myself walking into a pitch black hotel room to be bent over by a muscle man with an 8.5 incher. Unfortunately I apparently felt very exciting to him as it was all over in 5 minutes. Damn. Still not satisfied.

I walk or stumble to the West Village to an old friends. He has guests already. I don't engage but I observe and do get fed some G, T, and a new one for me, K. At 10am I finally find someone else worth meeting via faitful Grindr. His body is like Thor's. He's Russian. Smooth. Built. A bit personable too. We go at it, it's great. Damn. Over in 5 minutes again. Am I that good? I'm not mad though because he was so hot and so sweet. I was in love. We chatted for a bit, I gave him my number... I leave obsessed... but still unsatisfied.

I get home, as I said still unsatisfied, so I utilize all technologies available to me. Around 2 I stumble on an intriguing profile. It's personable. He introduces himself a bit in his profile (mine is blank). He also doesn't have any fully naked pictures available (I do). His pics are ok, but it does say he has an 8 incher, and he insists he's a marathon fucker. I invite him over.

I open the door in schleppy clothes. This process is usually done while braising myself. You see most don't look as good in person as they do in their pictures, and since this guy's pictures weren't that good, I was a little nervous.

Holy... fuck... I'm actually frozen for a second. Speechless. This man is utterly gorgeous. His smile is beaming. I stumble to try to tell him how hot he is. He chuckles and grabs me and we start kissing.

We proceed to have the most friendly, hottest, most personable first fuck of my life. And it goes on for 4 hours straight (minus a short beer half way through). My toes curled, my smile was unrelenting (as were his thrusts)... sober on a Monday night I'm still excited. I spit out these cheesy cliche lines cause I'm still high. Basically all I can think is how I want this forever (like any proper addict).

Afterwards we walk our dogs (he lives a block away), we get dinner, and we cuddle and watch a movie. Then it hit me... when I'm high I fantasize about whoever's fucking me being my boyfriend... so I guess that's what I want.

As much as I love him (I use the word comically), I don't think it'll work out. As into me as he was (no pun intended), he was too hot not to be a player. But at least I'm left with the realization that I want a boyfriend. It took the 3rd guy I had sex with that day to show me that, as well as a few letters from the alphabet.

So how does one get a boyfriend in NYC? Any suggestions? I'm intrigued by speed dating... at the very least it should make a good blog entry.

Don't worry I'm sure I'll still do drugs and have sex with strangers so all you "friends" of mine can still laugh at me.