I had a strange weekend.
I've been talking to my buddy Uncle Charlie about New Years Eve plans. Plans started with he and I going to Cartegna, Colombia for a week, but when tickets spiked from $300 to $1700, I told him I couldn't swing it. Uncle Charlie, who is a very successful hedge fund manager said "Well, I have six hours left on my plane time-share that I need to use by the end of the year, I can contribute that if it helps." Private jet, yeah, that helps. Plan B was take the plane to Vieques, Puerto Rico and my other buddy Chavez was pulled into the mix. Some sun, surfing, and drinking lots of cheap beer at beachfront dive bars was exactly what I was hoping for. Plan B then spiraled into renting a 50' sailboat and cruising the Caribbean. This is something I've always wanted to do so I was willing to spend the $5K the trip was going to cost me. But when the guys heard there was an ever-so-slight chance we could encounter pirates on the boat the trip morphed into renting a house on Saint Martin for a week at a total cost of, like, $40,000US. To say that I can't afford that is such a gross overstatement that I can't even write it without giggling. There are people in the world who can afford to do this type of thing and I am not one of them. I literally would go bankrupt. But Uncle Charlie said "just pay what you can, we got the rest". Anything I could comfortably contribute would be a rounding error, like the tax or electric bill for the rental, and I'm not OK with that. So, with tons of guilt I bailed on the trip this morning. I would love to go, but not if someone else has to pay for me.
Friday night I went out with Bartender. She got pretty hammered again. I'm not one to judge, that whole "those who live in glass houses" thing, but I think she is more than just a recreational drinker. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and I thought I saw her up at the bar doing a shot by herself. While she was gone I looked at my phone and I had text messages from Bear and Madonna wanting to meet up for late night antics. Bear I could understand, we have a history of that sort of thing. Madonna was odd, though, because I haven't spoken to her since the threw up all over my house on Halloween. I ignored both and ended up at Bartender's house.
Saturday night I went to dinner with ME in Dupont. I could probably write a few thousand words on the 25 minute conversation that took place before we even ordered dinner. ME peppered me with questions...I wouldn't say it was an interrogation, but it wasn't a conversation either, it fell somewhere in the middle. I was knocked back on my heels early on and in a desperate attempt to get the spotlight off me I made a desperate move. I knew that ME was in her late 30's and divorced. I figured she didn't have many years left to have kids, so asked her if she wanted them. I felt like it was a cheap shot, but I also felt cornered a little. Her answer "Well, I have one already". Serves me right.
I was completely lost for thirty seconds. I didn't see that coming at all. Why didn't she tell me earlier? Should she have? Why didn't I ask her? Does it matter to me? I've never had sex with a mommy before. Did the vagina feel different? I don't think so? Is that why she was "shy" and didn't let me do down on her? Was there a scar from the c-section? Did she even have a c-section? Did nursing make her nipples so long? I wonder if I look panicked right now?
It has to be hard. I am sure she doesn't want to scare guys off by telling them early on that she has a kid. Maybe she waits to see if she likes the guy then tells them. This is new ground for me. Surprisingly, I am OK with her having a kid.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Stuck in the snow
I was walking the dog last night and came across a car that was stuck on the side of the road. It looked like the driver either spun and hit the curb, or the car slid while parking resulting in the car sitting precariously close to another parked car. I tied the dog's leash to a fence on the sidewalk and tapped on the trunk. The driver rolled down the window and asked if I could lend her a hand. I said sure and told her to point the wheels strait.
After some slipping and sliding, and her accidently gunning it in reverse once, backing onto the sidewalk and scaring the shit out of me in the process, we finally managed to get her out of the two inches of snow she was stuck in. She then got out of the car and thanked me.
I recognized the girl. She has a dog like mine and I talked to her one night while we were both out walking the hounds. I remember thinking she was really attractive, but I haven't seen her since.
Anyway, she thanked me for the help and we exchanged names. She got back in her car and before she drove off she rolled down her passenger window and said "I live in that house there, stop by if you ever need anything." I said thanks and she left.
She was cute, I hope I run into her again.
After some slipping and sliding, and her accidently gunning it in reverse once, backing onto the sidewalk and scaring the shit out of me in the process, we finally managed to get her out of the two inches of snow she was stuck in. She then got out of the car and thanked me.
I recognized the girl. She has a dog like mine and I talked to her one night while we were both out walking the hounds. I remember thinking she was really attractive, but I haven't seen her since.
Anyway, she thanked me for the help and we exchanged names. She got back in her car and before she drove off she rolled down her passenger window and said "I live in that house there, stop by if you ever need anything." I said thanks and she left.
She was cute, I hope I run into her again.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Barnes and Noble
Sometimes I really loathe myself. Yesterday I met this really cute girl and I froze up like a fat kid on a tightrope. I hope my failure amuses you.
After lunch yesterday I went to Barnes and Nobles to pick up a few books. I found the travel book I needed then went upstairs to look for a few other things. For some reason the store was freezing cold, almost is if the heat wasn't working. After browsing for a few minutes I started to get cold so I went to the information booth to ask where I could find what I wanted.
As expected there were two fucking tools working the counter, pissed that work was interfering with their Dungens & Dragons game. I was next in line and just as I was about to be called up by the sorcerer when this cute little brunette in a coat and scarf walked behind the counter and waived me up.
I spend a fair amount of time in B&N and in my experience (broad generalization coming) it's not exactly a haven for hot sales people. I don't know why, it just isn't.
Anyway, so the brunette looks up the book I asked for then tells me to follow her. We wound through the store for a few seconds and she seemed lost. Between being lost and her having a coat on I finally said "Come on, tell me the truth, you don't even work here, do you? What's your scam?" She laughed and said "Actually, I work in marketing for the company, but during the holidays we all chip in and lend a hand on the sales floor." That seemed reasonable. We chatted back and forth for a few minutes. She was really engaging and chipper. She had long wavy brown hair and looked like she was part Asian, maybe Japanese. She was trim and well dressed...in short she was hot.
The girl led me to the shelf where my book was, pulled it out for me, then made small talk for another minute or so. In my opinion, she was stalling, giving my time to make a move. But I didn't because I'm a pussy. Finally she said "Can I get you anything else?" Case and point: if I was even the least but smooth I would have asked her to get a drink with me or for her number. I could have said "Let me buy you a cup of coffee to warm you up", or anything else to keep the conversation going. But what do I say? "No, that will do". I said the words then wanted to rip my tongue out of my face. No, that will do? No it won't, get her phone number, ask her out, ask for another fucking book. Say anything to keep her talking to you and away from Frodo and Gandalf at the counter.
You know what happened though, she walked away and I was left with my book on Texas Holdem.
But wait, it doesn't end here. You see, sometimes I rally and totally redeem myself. So I stuck around for a while hoping I could catch her on her next walk around the store and get her number. While I was sitting there pretending to read my Blackberry beeped, reminding me I had just fifteen minutes to pay for my books and get back to my office for a meeting. Fuck, no chance of that, so I put the books back and went up to the office.
I was completely worthless during that whole meeting. All I could think about was hot half-Asian brunette book girl, and what an utter retarded disappointment I am.
Have you ever seen the movie Swingers, when John Favre gets the girl's number and calls her like 50 times that night when he gets home? Remember that feeling you had when you watched that scene, how you wanted to reach into the screen, grab the phone away from him and whip him to death with it? That's kind of how I felt about what I did next.
After my meeting I put my coat on and went back to Barnes and Noble. I picked up the two books I wanted and lingered in the store for about ten minutes. OK, it was fifteen. I saw the cute salesgirl scamper through the isles for a second, but she wasn't close enough for me to say hello. Plus, if she saw me she probably would have wondered if I spent the past two hours in the store stalking her. I finally snapped out of it and left, but the self-image damage was done.
I may go back today...
After lunch yesterday I went to Barnes and Nobles to pick up a few books. I found the travel book I needed then went upstairs to look for a few other things. For some reason the store was freezing cold, almost is if the heat wasn't working. After browsing for a few minutes I started to get cold so I went to the information booth to ask where I could find what I wanted.
As expected there were two fucking tools working the counter, pissed that work was interfering with their Dungens & Dragons game. I was next in line and just as I was about to be called up by the sorcerer when this cute little brunette in a coat and scarf walked behind the counter and waived me up.
I spend a fair amount of time in B&N and in my experience (broad generalization coming) it's not exactly a haven for hot sales people. I don't know why, it just isn't.
Anyway, so the brunette looks up the book I asked for then tells me to follow her. We wound through the store for a few seconds and she seemed lost. Between being lost and her having a coat on I finally said "Come on, tell me the truth, you don't even work here, do you? What's your scam?" She laughed and said "Actually, I work in marketing for the company, but during the holidays we all chip in and lend a hand on the sales floor." That seemed reasonable. We chatted back and forth for a few minutes. She was really engaging and chipper. She had long wavy brown hair and looked like she was part Asian, maybe Japanese. She was trim and well dressed...in short she was hot.
The girl led me to the shelf where my book was, pulled it out for me, then made small talk for another minute or so. In my opinion, she was stalling, giving my time to make a move. But I didn't because I'm a pussy. Finally she said "Can I get you anything else?" Case and point: if I was even the least but smooth I would have asked her to get a drink with me or for her number. I could have said "Let me buy you a cup of coffee to warm you up", or anything else to keep the conversation going. But what do I say? "No, that will do". I said the words then wanted to rip my tongue out of my face. No, that will do? No it won't, get her phone number, ask her out, ask for another fucking book. Say anything to keep her talking to you and away from Frodo and Gandalf at the counter.
You know what happened though, she walked away and I was left with my book on Texas Holdem.
But wait, it doesn't end here. You see, sometimes I rally and totally redeem myself. So I stuck around for a while hoping I could catch her on her next walk around the store and get her number. While I was sitting there pretending to read my Blackberry beeped, reminding me I had just fifteen minutes to pay for my books and get back to my office for a meeting. Fuck, no chance of that, so I put the books back and went up to the office.
I was completely worthless during that whole meeting. All I could think about was hot half-Asian brunette book girl, and what an utter retarded disappointment I am.
Have you ever seen the movie Swingers, when John Favre gets the girl's number and calls her like 50 times that night when he gets home? Remember that feeling you had when you watched that scene, how you wanted to reach into the screen, grab the phone away from him and whip him to death with it? That's kind of how I felt about what I did next.
After my meeting I put my coat on and went back to Barnes and Noble. I picked up the two books I wanted and lingered in the store for about ten minutes. OK, it was fifteen. I saw the cute salesgirl scamper through the isles for a second, but she wasn't close enough for me to say hello. Plus, if she saw me she probably would have wondered if I spent the past two hours in the store stalking her. I finally snapped out of it and left, but the self-image damage was done.
I may go back today...
Monday, December 13, 2010
Vampire Sex
Ever had sex in on a stranger's floor because your sister is at your place and the girl's mom is visiting for three months? No? Ever woken up and thought "Why does my thumb hurt so much?" then clicked on the lights and found it was three shades of purple, but you weren't concerned because perhaps your bleeding hand and shoulder were more derserving of your immediate attention? Yeah, well, morning of many firsts for me, too. I Feel like I did battle with a jungle cat.
Sunday I had plans to cook dinner at home for ME. I was at the grocery store picking up some things and really wasn't all that excited about the night. My gut told me that ME was just looking for someone to fawn over her when she had some free time and that I was basically just spinning my wheels. I contemplated cancelling but ultimately decided there was no harm in one more date.
When I got home from the store I decided to go all out and if ME was still being aloof afterwards I would cut her loose. I made clams casino for an appetizer, a big salad with homemade dressing, bought fresh bread and some goat cheese, and prepped seafood risotto for the main course. My sister had just made a bananna bread, so dessert was covered.
ME called and said she was going to see a movie with her mom then was going to take the Metro over afterwards and would get to Union Station around 7pm, and asked if I wouldn't mind picking her up there. Thirty minutes later she called and said she was running late and probably wouldn't be there until 7:30. At 7:30 she called back and said she would be there at 8pm. I told her I had given away her table and that the kitchen was closing soon, she better hurry. I poured myself a glass of wine and it occurred to me that if ME was taking the Metro over I may actually have to drive her home. She lives in Bethesda, so this wasn't an attractive end to the evening.
ME finally got to Union Station a little after 8pm and I picked her up. She looked awesome. She had on a tight shirt, a short plaid skirt and black pokohontas boots. I was glad I hadn't cancelled.
ME's penance for being late was fourty minutes of constant risotto stirring. When she would slow down, and I heard the tell tale "crackling" of the rice, a sign it was burning, I would say "If you burn it you'll have to start all over, keep stirring" the she would hunker down over the stove and get back to work. What can I say, I was amusing myself.
Dinner went well. I brought up the whole swimming thing and said I would teach her if she wanted, which she said she would like. I would say ME is cool on the surface, guarded, but she is warming up and starting to talk more as we hang out.
After dinner we were sitting on my couch talking which turned into a little making out. ME straddled me, but it was still just light fooling around, our clothes were still on when ME said "I can't do this here, your sister will hear." (my sister, who lives with me, was at home and sleeping in her room). I didn't expect things to go too much further on my couch so I said we could go to my bedroom, but ME was concerned about the noise and my sister being able to hear us. ME then suggested we go to her "friend's apartment" who was out of town. Her friend lived in her building and she would have to grab the keys from her house first. All this sounded ridiculous given that we were just kissing. I presumed things were going to go further, but it wasn't exactly a foregone conlusion. I was going to be really pissed if we went through the hassle of criminal trespassing just to kiss. This was beginning to feel like high school again, but I reluctantly agreed to go to her "friend's house". Before we left I grabbed four condoms from the dresser in my bedroom just in case.
When we pulled up in front of ME's building she said "We are going to go in that door, but when you come out, you'll come out the door on that street" and she pointed around to the left. She said "You'll go out the door, past the doorman, make a left, then a left when you get to this street which will lead you back to the car." This was starting to sound like a bank heist. ME then lead me into the building through the parking garage door. When we got to her floor she said "My mom is at home. She sleeps with ear plugs in and won't hear me come in, but wait out here. I'll get the keys to my friend's apartment that is just down the hall." I thought "How do I get myself into this shit?" I tend to think that I'm street savy, but while I was sitting on a table in front of the elevator it dawned on my that ME may still be married, and that her "mom" is really her husband asleep in the apartment, and that there was a small chance I would be chased out of the building by a very insane middle eastern man soon. Luckily this didn't happen.
ME returned a minute later with a set of keys and unlocked the door to an apartment a little ways down the hall. The place wreacked of "old person". The couches were ancient, there was an old reel to reel hi-fi system on a table, it was all very disco. I said "how old is your friend?", and ME said she was in her late 60's, and lived most of the year in Brazil. OK by me.
I sat on the couch while ME got us two glasses of water. When she got back she put the glasses on a table and straddled me again. We started kissing and she took of my shirt, then hers. With her still straddling me I stood up and carried her to the center of the room and lowered us onto the floor. I started inching down towards her waist when she stopped me and said "No, I'm shy." Then rolled me onto my side and put her hand down my jeans. Where I'm from this is known as "conflicting signals".
Fifteen seconds later we were both totally naked and ME asked "do you have protection" and I did a little mental dance of joy that I had made that trip to my bedroomm before leaving. I didn't say anything. I just felt around until I found my jeans, grabbed a condom from my back pocket, and put one on. I leaned back against a couch and ME got on top of me.
I need to point out a few things here. The first is ME's nipples, they were giant and dark. The areola were average, maybe the size of a quarter or a little smaller. I'm running low on nipple vocabulary here, so bear with me. When I say her nipples were huge, I mean the tip, they were easily the size of two or three pencil erasers. I've only seen nipples like this on Asian girls (two Japanese, one Chinese, and two Indian girls). Maybe it's an Asian trait, anyone have any info on this? The second thing I noticed is that ME had a neatly trimmed landing strip. Nicely done.
Back to the floor. ME proceeeded to ride me like a rented mule for the next thirty minutes. "Shy" was not the first adjective that comes to mind when I reflect back on those 30 minutes. She dug her nails into my back like she was intentionally trying to hurt me. She screamed so loud I was afraid the neighbors were going to call the police. When I put my left thumb into her mouth to quiet her down she clamped down on it like a pit bull. It was the last thing I intentionally put in her mouth that night. She was buck wild. The term "sexual predator" comes to mind. When I came she bit me. I thought I was supposed to bite her, but no, she bit my shoulder and drew blood. I'll say it again. She bit my fucking shoulder until it bled.
When we were finished we dozed off on the floor for a little while then decided it was best to get out of there. We got dressed, I flushed the condom down the toilet, and we searched the floor for evidence. As we were about to leave ME jumped me again and we wound up on the floor for a second time. This time ME came, hard, and very loudly, I mean top-of-her-lungs screaming. She was speaking...not English...I wish I could remember the word she was yelling, that would have been a good Google search today. Anyway, I had to cover her mouth with my hand, but she wriggled around, grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand down far enough so that she could get my right index knuckle in her mouth and bit it. She drew blood for the second time that night. One tooth punctured the skin. She was like fucking a vampire. This one really hurt and I let out a yell and put a finger on her asshole, making it very clear that if she bit me again I was going to put one or more fingers in her bad place. She may have liked that, who knows, but I was just playing the odds which are that most girls don't appreciate that particular manuever. The biting stopped.
After the second round we got our stuff together and made a second sweep of the apartment. We gathered up condom wrappers, earrings, keys, any incriminating evidence of what just took place. Again, it felt exactly like high school, only I am twice as old as I was then.
Are you really ever too old to have sex in a stranger's living room? I think not.
Sunday I had plans to cook dinner at home for ME. I was at the grocery store picking up some things and really wasn't all that excited about the night. My gut told me that ME was just looking for someone to fawn over her when she had some free time and that I was basically just spinning my wheels. I contemplated cancelling but ultimately decided there was no harm in one more date.
When I got home from the store I decided to go all out and if ME was still being aloof afterwards I would cut her loose. I made clams casino for an appetizer, a big salad with homemade dressing, bought fresh bread and some goat cheese, and prepped seafood risotto for the main course. My sister had just made a bananna bread, so dessert was covered.
ME called and said she was going to see a movie with her mom then was going to take the Metro over afterwards and would get to Union Station around 7pm, and asked if I wouldn't mind picking her up there. Thirty minutes later she called and said she was running late and probably wouldn't be there until 7:30. At 7:30 she called back and said she would be there at 8pm. I told her I had given away her table and that the kitchen was closing soon, she better hurry. I poured myself a glass of wine and it occurred to me that if ME was taking the Metro over I may actually have to drive her home. She lives in Bethesda, so this wasn't an attractive end to the evening.
ME finally got to Union Station a little after 8pm and I picked her up. She looked awesome. She had on a tight shirt, a short plaid skirt and black pokohontas boots. I was glad I hadn't cancelled.
ME's penance for being late was fourty minutes of constant risotto stirring. When she would slow down, and I heard the tell tale "crackling" of the rice, a sign it was burning, I would say "If you burn it you'll have to start all over, keep stirring" the she would hunker down over the stove and get back to work. What can I say, I was amusing myself.
Dinner went well. I brought up the whole swimming thing and said I would teach her if she wanted, which she said she would like. I would say ME is cool on the surface, guarded, but she is warming up and starting to talk more as we hang out.
After dinner we were sitting on my couch talking which turned into a little making out. ME straddled me, but it was still just light fooling around, our clothes were still on when ME said "I can't do this here, your sister will hear." (my sister, who lives with me, was at home and sleeping in her room). I didn't expect things to go too much further on my couch so I said we could go to my bedroom, but ME was concerned about the noise and my sister being able to hear us. ME then suggested we go to her "friend's apartment" who was out of town. Her friend lived in her building and she would have to grab the keys from her house first. All this sounded ridiculous given that we were just kissing. I presumed things were going to go further, but it wasn't exactly a foregone conlusion. I was going to be really pissed if we went through the hassle of criminal trespassing just to kiss. This was beginning to feel like high school again, but I reluctantly agreed to go to her "friend's house". Before we left I grabbed four condoms from the dresser in my bedroom just in case.
When we pulled up in front of ME's building she said "We are going to go in that door, but when you come out, you'll come out the door on that street" and she pointed around to the left. She said "You'll go out the door, past the doorman, make a left, then a left when you get to this street which will lead you back to the car." This was starting to sound like a bank heist. ME then lead me into the building through the parking garage door. When we got to her floor she said "My mom is at home. She sleeps with ear plugs in and won't hear me come in, but wait out here. I'll get the keys to my friend's apartment that is just down the hall." I thought "How do I get myself into this shit?" I tend to think that I'm street savy, but while I was sitting on a table in front of the elevator it dawned on my that ME may still be married, and that her "mom" is really her husband asleep in the apartment, and that there was a small chance I would be chased out of the building by a very insane middle eastern man soon. Luckily this didn't happen.
ME returned a minute later with a set of keys and unlocked the door to an apartment a little ways down the hall. The place wreacked of "old person". The couches were ancient, there was an old reel to reel hi-fi system on a table, it was all very disco. I said "how old is your friend?", and ME said she was in her late 60's, and lived most of the year in Brazil. OK by me.
I sat on the couch while ME got us two glasses of water. When she got back she put the glasses on a table and straddled me again. We started kissing and she took of my shirt, then hers. With her still straddling me I stood up and carried her to the center of the room and lowered us onto the floor. I started inching down towards her waist when she stopped me and said "No, I'm shy." Then rolled me onto my side and put her hand down my jeans. Where I'm from this is known as "conflicting signals".
Fifteen seconds later we were both totally naked and ME asked "do you have protection" and I did a little mental dance of joy that I had made that trip to my bedroomm before leaving. I didn't say anything. I just felt around until I found my jeans, grabbed a condom from my back pocket, and put one on. I leaned back against a couch and ME got on top of me.
I need to point out a few things here. The first is ME's nipples, they were giant and dark. The areola were average, maybe the size of a quarter or a little smaller. I'm running low on nipple vocabulary here, so bear with me. When I say her nipples were huge, I mean the tip, they were easily the size of two or three pencil erasers. I've only seen nipples like this on Asian girls (two Japanese, one Chinese, and two Indian girls). Maybe it's an Asian trait, anyone have any info on this? The second thing I noticed is that ME had a neatly trimmed landing strip. Nicely done.
Back to the floor. ME proceeeded to ride me like a rented mule for the next thirty minutes. "Shy" was not the first adjective that comes to mind when I reflect back on those 30 minutes. She dug her nails into my back like she was intentionally trying to hurt me. She screamed so loud I was afraid the neighbors were going to call the police. When I put my left thumb into her mouth to quiet her down she clamped down on it like a pit bull. It was the last thing I intentionally put in her mouth that night. She was buck wild. The term "sexual predator" comes to mind. When I came she bit me. I thought I was supposed to bite her, but no, she bit my shoulder and drew blood. I'll say it again. She bit my fucking shoulder until it bled.
When we were finished we dozed off on the floor for a little while then decided it was best to get out of there. We got dressed, I flushed the condom down the toilet, and we searched the floor for evidence. As we were about to leave ME jumped me again and we wound up on the floor for a second time. This time ME came, hard, and very loudly, I mean top-of-her-lungs screaming. She was speaking...not English...I wish I could remember the word she was yelling, that would have been a good Google search today. Anyway, I had to cover her mouth with my hand, but she wriggled around, grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand down far enough so that she could get my right index knuckle in her mouth and bit it. She drew blood for the second time that night. One tooth punctured the skin. She was like fucking a vampire. This one really hurt and I let out a yell and put a finger on her asshole, making it very clear that if she bit me again I was going to put one or more fingers in her bad place. She may have liked that, who knows, but I was just playing the odds which are that most girls don't appreciate that particular manuever. The biting stopped.
After the second round we got our stuff together and made a second sweep of the apartment. We gathered up condom wrappers, earrings, keys, any incriminating evidence of what just took place. Again, it felt exactly like high school, only I am twice as old as I was then.
Are you really ever too old to have sex in a stranger's living room? I think not.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Harder!
Fucking miserable night. Bartender came over for dinner, had sex twice, she spent the night, I had fever and hallucinated, she left very early in the morning.
I decided to have Bartender over for dinner last night. It was the only night this week she was free, and I didn't want to go out on a Jameson shooting spree on a week night, especially one that I had to be up at 5am the next day. Dinner, hot tub, and a movie seemed more civilized.
Dinner went fine. It was a dry run of the meal I am going to make for ME Sunday night (needs more pepper and basil). We ate, drank some wine, then went into the hot tub for an hour. The water was about 100 degrees, and the air was around 35 degrees, maybe 40. Whatever it was it threw my body all out of whack and I tripped balls with Papa Smurf and the Three Stooges for the following five hours in my bed while Bartender slammed her elbows into my kidneys. Glorious night, I tell you.
When we first got into bed the fever hadn't taken grip yet and I was well enough for a few rounds of sex. The first round was quiet, but on the second round I asked Bartender what she liked/wanted, and she said "I want you to get behind me". No problem, my preferred position anyway. She then said "I want it hard", sure, I can do that. "Harder!" - raising her voice a little. I picked up the pace and depth of thrust. Then she ordered "Harder!!!" and I began pumping away like I was drilling for oil. Then I felt like I hit something inside her, my penis bent at a irregular angle, she tensed up and said "OK, no, too hard. Softer."
An hour later I was sweating like a fiend and shivering, which you would think are two mutually exclusive body-states. Nope, not last night.
Going to put myself under house arrest until Sunday night.
I decided to have Bartender over for dinner last night. It was the only night this week she was free, and I didn't want to go out on a Jameson shooting spree on a week night, especially one that I had to be up at 5am the next day. Dinner, hot tub, and a movie seemed more civilized.
Dinner went fine. It was a dry run of the meal I am going to make for ME Sunday night (needs more pepper and basil). We ate, drank some wine, then went into the hot tub for an hour. The water was about 100 degrees, and the air was around 35 degrees, maybe 40. Whatever it was it threw my body all out of whack and I tripped balls with Papa Smurf and the Three Stooges for the following five hours in my bed while Bartender slammed her elbows into my kidneys. Glorious night, I tell you.
When we first got into bed the fever hadn't taken grip yet and I was well enough for a few rounds of sex. The first round was quiet, but on the second round I asked Bartender what she liked/wanted, and she said "I want you to get behind me". No problem, my preferred position anyway. She then said "I want it hard", sure, I can do that. "Harder!" - raising her voice a little. I picked up the pace and depth of thrust. Then she ordered "Harder!!!" and I began pumping away like I was drilling for oil. Then I felt like I hit something inside her, my penis bent at a irregular angle, she tensed up and said "OK, no, too hard. Softer."
An hour later I was sweating like a fiend and shivering, which you would think are two mutually exclusive body-states. Nope, not last night.
Going to put myself under house arrest until Sunday night.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Stella, Cartegena
Last night I got an email from Stella inviting me to a party at her house Sunday night. Aside from bumping into her one afternoon in Eastern Market I haven't spoken to her in six months. Very random. I probably would have gone except that I have plans with ME to cook dinner at my house Sunday.
It's just a few weeks until New Years and I don't have any plans yet. I was supposed to go to Key West with D-ron, but his work schedule changed and he can't get the time off now. I looked online to see where I can fly for under $400 and I found a few interesting options. Uncle Charlie and my buddy Chavez are tenatively onboard for a trip, and the front runner right now it Cartegena, Colombia. For $320 round trip how can you beat it? If they bail I may even go solo.
It's just a few weeks until New Years and I don't have any plans yet. I was supposed to go to Key West with D-ron, but his work schedule changed and he can't get the time off now. I looked online to see where I can fly for under $400 and I found a few interesting options. Uncle Charlie and my buddy Chavez are tenatively onboard for a trip, and the front runner right now it Cartegena, Colombia. For $320 round trip how can you beat it? If they bail I may even go solo.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Squirrel
This has nothing to do with dating, it's just a great story that I thought I would share.
My friend Betty was walking down the street this weekend with her kids when a foreign couple came up to her and said they found a sick baby squirrel on the sidewalk that needed help. They asked Betty if she could "adopt" the squirrel and nurse it back to health because they were leaving that day and had to catch a plane, so they couldn't help it anymore. The guy was holding the squirrel like a baby, swaddling and stroking it. Betty said she couldn't help him, then kind of leaned forward to look at the little grey squirrel. The guy was petting it, but stopped and kind of opened his hands and showed her the animal. Betty looked and said "Umm, that's not a squirrel, that's a rat!".
Fuzzy little foreigners. I wonder where they were from that they didn't know a rat from a squirrel.
My friend Betty was walking down the street this weekend with her kids when a foreign couple came up to her and said they found a sick baby squirrel on the sidewalk that needed help. They asked Betty if she could "adopt" the squirrel and nurse it back to health because they were leaving that day and had to catch a plane, so they couldn't help it anymore. The guy was holding the squirrel like a baby, swaddling and stroking it. Betty said she couldn't help him, then kind of leaned forward to look at the little grey squirrel. The guy was petting it, but stopped and kind of opened his hands and showed her the animal. Betty looked and said "Umm, that's not a squirrel, that's a rat!".
Fuzzy little foreigners. I wonder where they were from that they didn't know a rat from a squirrel.
Monday, December 6, 2010
If I had more time I would write you a shorter post.
Sorry, long one. I don't have the time today to edit this properly.
Last week I called ME while she was away on business and asked if she would like to get together over the weekend. She said she had a friend in town and it might be hard to meet up. I understood and told her to call me if she had time. I put the ball in her court to see what she would do. I suspected she would send me a lame text about how she couldn't get together and that would be the end of her.
Friday night I had plans to meet my sister and her friends out for happy hour. As I was walking to the bar ME called and invited me to a party that night. I was surprised to see her calling me, but pissed that for the second time in a row she asked me to an event hours before it started.
The party was a holiday party at the Newseum. Technically I could have gone to happy hour and made it to the party with plenty of time to spare, but I was pissed that she waited until 5pm to invite me. I suppose you could make a case that I was "playing games" by not going, and maybe on some level I was. The timing aggravated me so I said I couldn't make it. I told her I understood she had to entertain her visiting friends, but maybe next week we could do something.
Saturday night I had plans to go out with Bartender. While I was getting ready to leave I got a text from ME asking if I was free Sunday night and if I was interested in seeing a movie. I said sure and we left off that we would talk in the morning and make plans.
Normally I would have a beer or two before leaving the house, you know, pre-game a little so I don't have to spend a hundred dollars on drinks. However, I knew that going out with Bartender would turn into a drunken debacle, so I left the house at about 9:30pm sober as a judge.
Bartender didn't disappoint. I met her at a restaurant downtown and we took a seat at the bar. Within five minutes a waitress friend of hers came by to say hello, then said "Can I buy us a shot?", Bartender of course agreed so the waitress flagged down the bartender and held up three fingers. Apparently all people in the service industry drink Jameson. Without hesitation the bartender dropped three glasses in front of us and plunked the bottle of Jameson down on the bar, then walked off. We were left to serve ourselves, which I am told is highly illegal.
Fast forward a couple of hours. Bartender and I have moved on to H Street and were making a steady assault on the area's Jameson supply. The evening seemed almost sniper-like. We would sit down at a bar, have a comped shot or drink, drop a five or ten dollar bill on the bar then move on to another establishment. One shot one kill each. Twice we didn't even take our coats off, we just bellied up, banged back a smoky shot of Jameson and slipped away. Usually the bartender was give us a nod or a wave or some other gesture as if to say "You're money is no good here, that one's on the house".
Last call was at Little Miss Whiskey, but by then Bartender was pretty tipsy. We had one drink, danced for a bit, then bolted. We walked to Bartender's house and went up to her room. She spent a little extra time in the bathroom and suspect she may have gotten sick, but she smelled like toothpaste when she came out so I can't say for sure. It was about 2am and we both passed out. I woke up at 4am having sex and I don't know for sure who initiated it, but I'm pretty sure it was me. At 9:30 am I opened my eyes saw Bartender face down on the bed, a big tattoo on her left ass cheek staring back at me. It was about 98 degrees in the room and we were both buck naked, uncovered and sweating. My mouth was completely dry and tasted like a peaty Irish field right after a brush fire. Damn you Mr. Jameson. Bartender woke up as I was getting dressed and chuckled. I said I had to walk the dog, and she gave me a kiss as I left. When I got home and took a shower I saw a huge hickey on my chest, which was probably what Bartender was laughing at while I was getting dressed.
Last night I went and saw Black Swan with ME. After the movie we got a drink at a bite to eat and talked for a while. Going into the evening I had my doubts about ME and thought up a few questions that I hoped would bring them to the surface. After she had a glass of wine I asked her "So, if you came into some money tomorrow and could live comfortably without working the rest of your life, what would you do?" In short, ME said she would continue to work a few days a week because she likes her job and would use the rest of her time to travel. She also said she would socialize a lot and then used the term "lunch" as a verb, as in "I would lunch often with the girls". She was good until the lunch part. Question number two was a follow-up to a question she asked me earlier about the outdoors, I said "So, do you like the outdoors? Do you camp or hike?". ME said she likes the wilderness but doesn't camp because she is deathly afraid of spiders. That didn't sound promising. I decided to just come right out and ask it, I said "Do you consider yourself high maintenance?", which she denied. She said she's willing to try new things, outdoors or in, but that she's feminine and a little afraid of "creepy crawlers". I was leading up to my next question, which was "Do you consider yourself adventurous" when I mentioned that I like to sail, and asked if she enjoyed the ocean. That was a total softball, a lob, who doesn't like the fucking ocean! She put her face down in her soup and said "I can't swim". What? She can't fucking swim! I asked "Would you like to learn?" but she said she was afraid of the water.
How is it possible in this day and age that someone can't swim? It's literally unfathomable to me. Is she telling me that if I dropped her in a pool she would be unable to make it to the side without drowning? That can't be true. We're fucking buoyant. If you can't swim roll onto your back and float goddamnit. You don't have to be Michael Phelps in the water, but you are a failure as a human being if you can't swim. Your parents should hang their heads in shame for they have not provided you with a fundamental skill for your survival. It's like learning to cross the street, not running with scissors in your hand, and never stick a fork in an outlet (OK, so my parents failed on that last one).
Despite her beauty, despite her intelligence, I don't know if I can overlook this. She sounds unwilling to even try to learn.
I saw a show on TV last week called Millionaire Matchmaker. You can look up the show and see what it's about, but one of the things I took away from the episode was that everyone should have a list of 5 things that are non-negotiable in a mate. Five items that their ideal mate must or must not have/do. My list is as follows in no particular order:
-Financially independent (supports herself and lives within her means)
-Great sense of humor, is funny, laughs
-Energetic/active/physically fit (no couch potatoes)
-Smart
-Adventurous
Number six may be - Able to save herself in the event of water
This may be a little heavy for a third date, but I am going to ask ME if she would like to go to a pool some night and learn to swim.
Last week I called ME while she was away on business and asked if she would like to get together over the weekend. She said she had a friend in town and it might be hard to meet up. I understood and told her to call me if she had time. I put the ball in her court to see what she would do. I suspected she would send me a lame text about how she couldn't get together and that would be the end of her.
Friday night I had plans to meet my sister and her friends out for happy hour. As I was walking to the bar ME called and invited me to a party that night. I was surprised to see her calling me, but pissed that for the second time in a row she asked me to an event hours before it started.
The party was a holiday party at the Newseum. Technically I could have gone to happy hour and made it to the party with plenty of time to spare, but I was pissed that she waited until 5pm to invite me. I suppose you could make a case that I was "playing games" by not going, and maybe on some level I was. The timing aggravated me so I said I couldn't make it. I told her I understood she had to entertain her visiting friends, but maybe next week we could do something.
Saturday night I had plans to go out with Bartender. While I was getting ready to leave I got a text from ME asking if I was free Sunday night and if I was interested in seeing a movie. I said sure and we left off that we would talk in the morning and make plans.
Normally I would have a beer or two before leaving the house, you know, pre-game a little so I don't have to spend a hundred dollars on drinks. However, I knew that going out with Bartender would turn into a drunken debacle, so I left the house at about 9:30pm sober as a judge.
Bartender didn't disappoint. I met her at a restaurant downtown and we took a seat at the bar. Within five minutes a waitress friend of hers came by to say hello, then said "Can I buy us a shot?", Bartender of course agreed so the waitress flagged down the bartender and held up three fingers. Apparently all people in the service industry drink Jameson. Without hesitation the bartender dropped three glasses in front of us and plunked the bottle of Jameson down on the bar, then walked off. We were left to serve ourselves, which I am told is highly illegal.
Fast forward a couple of hours. Bartender and I have moved on to H Street and were making a steady assault on the area's Jameson supply. The evening seemed almost sniper-like. We would sit down at a bar, have a comped shot or drink, drop a five or ten dollar bill on the bar then move on to another establishment. One shot one kill each. Twice we didn't even take our coats off, we just bellied up, banged back a smoky shot of Jameson and slipped away. Usually the bartender was give us a nod or a wave or some other gesture as if to say "You're money is no good here, that one's on the house".
Last call was at Little Miss Whiskey, but by then Bartender was pretty tipsy. We had one drink, danced for a bit, then bolted. We walked to Bartender's house and went up to her room. She spent a little extra time in the bathroom and suspect she may have gotten sick, but she smelled like toothpaste when she came out so I can't say for sure. It was about 2am and we both passed out. I woke up at 4am having sex and I don't know for sure who initiated it, but I'm pretty sure it was me. At 9:30 am I opened my eyes saw Bartender face down on the bed, a big tattoo on her left ass cheek staring back at me. It was about 98 degrees in the room and we were both buck naked, uncovered and sweating. My mouth was completely dry and tasted like a peaty Irish field right after a brush fire. Damn you Mr. Jameson. Bartender woke up as I was getting dressed and chuckled. I said I had to walk the dog, and she gave me a kiss as I left. When I got home and took a shower I saw a huge hickey on my chest, which was probably what Bartender was laughing at while I was getting dressed.
Last night I went and saw Black Swan with ME. After the movie we got a drink at a bite to eat and talked for a while. Going into the evening I had my doubts about ME and thought up a few questions that I hoped would bring them to the surface. After she had a glass of wine I asked her "So, if you came into some money tomorrow and could live comfortably without working the rest of your life, what would you do?" In short, ME said she would continue to work a few days a week because she likes her job and would use the rest of her time to travel. She also said she would socialize a lot and then used the term "lunch" as a verb, as in "I would lunch often with the girls". She was good until the lunch part. Question number two was a follow-up to a question she asked me earlier about the outdoors, I said "So, do you like the outdoors? Do you camp or hike?". ME said she likes the wilderness but doesn't camp because she is deathly afraid of spiders. That didn't sound promising. I decided to just come right out and ask it, I said "Do you consider yourself high maintenance?", which she denied. She said she's willing to try new things, outdoors or in, but that she's feminine and a little afraid of "creepy crawlers". I was leading up to my next question, which was "Do you consider yourself adventurous" when I mentioned that I like to sail, and asked if she enjoyed the ocean. That was a total softball, a lob, who doesn't like the fucking ocean! She put her face down in her soup and said "I can't swim". What? She can't fucking swim! I asked "Would you like to learn?" but she said she was afraid of the water.
How is it possible in this day and age that someone can't swim? It's literally unfathomable to me. Is she telling me that if I dropped her in a pool she would be unable to make it to the side without drowning? That can't be true. We're fucking buoyant. If you can't swim roll onto your back and float goddamnit. You don't have to be Michael Phelps in the water, but you are a failure as a human being if you can't swim. Your parents should hang their heads in shame for they have not provided you with a fundamental skill for your survival. It's like learning to cross the street, not running with scissors in your hand, and never stick a fork in an outlet (OK, so my parents failed on that last one).
Despite her beauty, despite her intelligence, I don't know if I can overlook this. She sounds unwilling to even try to learn.
I saw a show on TV last week called Millionaire Matchmaker. You can look up the show and see what it's about, but one of the things I took away from the episode was that everyone should have a list of 5 things that are non-negotiable in a mate. Five items that their ideal mate must or must not have/do. My list is as follows in no particular order:
-Financially independent (supports herself and lives within her means)
-Great sense of humor, is funny, laughs
-Energetic/active/physically fit (no couch potatoes)
-Smart
-Adventurous
Number six may be - Able to save herself in the event of water
This may be a little heavy for a third date, but I am going to ask ME if she would like to go to a pool some night and learn to swim.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
I Smell Sex
A really nice thing about this blog is that I have an accurate record of everything in my life. Dates, times, people I meet, places I go, etc. I also have a lot of "posts" that I write but don't finish and thus never publish, and they contain a lot of detail as well. It was in one of those unpublished posts that I pinpointed the last time I had sex, and realized it's been nine and a half weeks, which is just despicable.
I am happy to report, though, that the clock has been reset to zero.
Last night I went for dinner and drinks with Bartender. I had a good time, but it was an interesting experience.
First of all, she knows everyone who works in the service industry. Granted, I've only gone out with her twice and to a total of about five places, but in each of those five she knew everyone. Bartenders, waitresses, cooks, she's practically a celebrity - though I'm not certain if she's famous or infamous. Of course, free drinks galore come along with her rock star status, which isn't too shabby.
Bartender has a decent sense of humor. She's sarcastic, which I like. During dinner I asked Bartender how old she was. When she said 23 I think I said "Oh...I'm a little older..." because I wasn't sure she knew I could almost drive when she was still in diapers. But Bartender just said "Well, you'll get over that, don't worry." It was funny/sarcastic and showed confidence.
We had drinks after dinner then decided to head home at midnight. We had met at the restaurant, so I walked Bartender back to her house. When we got to the front gate of her house Bartender invited me in for a drink. We went inside, each opened a beer, took a sip, then went directly to her room. Basically our clothes came off as soon as we walked through her door.
I was surprised to see that Bartender had tattoos all over the place. They were all in area that she could hide, and some were a little goofy, but I like ink so it was a pleasant surprise. Also, her body wasn't bad either. She's kind of a big girl. I don't mean she's fat, she's just...big. She's tall, she has giant boobs, her ass is great, not fat, not tiny. I would say she has a very average body, I mean that as a compliment.
I'm trying to think of the best way to describe the sex but it was pretty standard. Good but standard. No crazy antics. No slapping, spitting, or other shenanigans. I was kind of sore today, though, both my junk and my lower back. I've been limping around my office and didn't realize it until my secretary said "What in the hell is wrong with you today?" We have a good relationship, I really like her, but I wasn't about to tell her the truth. I just said "gym" and left it at that, but it would have been really funny to say "sex".
Bartender and I had sex twice last night then fell asleep. I'm not sure when but at some point really early in the morning I started going down on her and she swatted me away and said "Need sleepy" which cracked me up because it's from Tommy Boy. We woke up at 7am and started fooling around and went at it again. After we were done she said "And good morning to you, too!".
I can still smell sex. It's on my hands, my face, in my mouth. Do you know that smell? Stale sex. It's a combination of sweat, and pussy, and cum. I can't hear worth a shit, but I have a terrific sense of smell and I smell sex. She didn't have a particularly strong odor, and I took a shower this morning, it just stuck to me. It's really distracting to be in a meeting and catch a whiff of last night's pussy. My train of thought goes right out the window when that happens. I may as well go home. I think I will.
I am happy to report, though, that the clock has been reset to zero.
Last night I went for dinner and drinks with Bartender. I had a good time, but it was an interesting experience.
First of all, she knows everyone who works in the service industry. Granted, I've only gone out with her twice and to a total of about five places, but in each of those five she knew everyone. Bartenders, waitresses, cooks, she's practically a celebrity - though I'm not certain if she's famous or infamous. Of course, free drinks galore come along with her rock star status, which isn't too shabby.
Bartender has a decent sense of humor. She's sarcastic, which I like. During dinner I asked Bartender how old she was. When she said 23 I think I said "Oh...I'm a little older..." because I wasn't sure she knew I could almost drive when she was still in diapers. But Bartender just said "Well, you'll get over that, don't worry." It was funny/sarcastic and showed confidence.
We had drinks after dinner then decided to head home at midnight. We had met at the restaurant, so I walked Bartender back to her house. When we got to the front gate of her house Bartender invited me in for a drink. We went inside, each opened a beer, took a sip, then went directly to her room. Basically our clothes came off as soon as we walked through her door.
I was surprised to see that Bartender had tattoos all over the place. They were all in area that she could hide, and some were a little goofy, but I like ink so it was a pleasant surprise. Also, her body wasn't bad either. She's kind of a big girl. I don't mean she's fat, she's just...big. She's tall, she has giant boobs, her ass is great, not fat, not tiny. I would say she has a very average body, I mean that as a compliment.
I'm trying to think of the best way to describe the sex but it was pretty standard. Good but standard. No crazy antics. No slapping, spitting, or other shenanigans. I was kind of sore today, though, both my junk and my lower back. I've been limping around my office and didn't realize it until my secretary said "What in the hell is wrong with you today?" We have a good relationship, I really like her, but I wasn't about to tell her the truth. I just said "gym" and left it at that, but it would have been really funny to say "sex".
Bartender and I had sex twice last night then fell asleep. I'm not sure when but at some point really early in the morning I started going down on her and she swatted me away and said "Need sleepy" which cracked me up because it's from Tommy Boy. We woke up at 7am and started fooling around and went at it again. After we were done she said "And good morning to you, too!".
I can still smell sex. It's on my hands, my face, in my mouth. Do you know that smell? Stale sex. It's a combination of sweat, and pussy, and cum. I can't hear worth a shit, but I have a terrific sense of smell and I smell sex. She didn't have a particularly strong odor, and I took a shower this morning, it just stuck to me. It's really distracting to be in a meeting and catch a whiff of last night's pussy. My train of thought goes right out the window when that happens. I may as well go home. I think I will.
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