[dropcap]S[/dropcap]o I thought I was done with Come Back Charlie. I mean he totally blew me off, no?
Wait…what? He didn’t blow me off?
And that’s how the conversation started whereby my friends (and myself) were able to realize that I may have been
freaking the fuck out getting upset over nothing. Because after all, this wasn’t the beginning of a burgeoning relationship. At best this would be a 6 week summer fling followed up (maybe) by some home for christmas flinging.
I mean…okay, sure…he could’ve made sure I knew we weren’t hanging out on Friday night. I mean, that would’ve been a less douchey thing to do but the first date had gone so well and he seemed to like me (in a summer flingy kind of way…we weren’t soul mates or anything)…so maybe it was just a case of assumptions gone awry and accidental asshole behavior. And at the very least I owed it to myself to find out, no? I mean, what could one text hurt, right? Either he would ignore it, be a dick or something (which seemed unlikely) or he’d respond back and we would make plans to hang out again.
He did the latter. In fact, he was the one who asked me to hang out again (I had simply texted hey, how’s it going?). And because I’d spent the weekend talking it over with friends about how it’s the summer and fuck it (literally) and what have you got to lose? etc., when Come Back Charlie asked…I decided to go for it. And so CBC and I made plans. To hang out. Watch a movie. At his place. Tuesday night.
And then Tuesday happened. I got my hair did by the lovely @HairByKatieRose (who *SPOILER ALERT* by the way is clearly some kind of psychic or oracle or wizard because instead of styling my hair curly [as it goes naturally] or straight [as is the fashion] she gave it this gloriously half and half SEX-HAIR look that was beyond amazing…it had body, it was hot, it was…well…pretty fucking magical…because after all I had…well let’s not get ahead of things here).
Now I could ramble on about TMI warnings or tell you that things are about to get gross or whatever. But dammit, who has that kind of time, so I’m just going to spit it out. While amazing that Come Back Charlie and I were about to have our second date, there was a hiccup. I had…my period. Or well. Just a little. Barely anything. A boyfriend wouldn’t care. A booty call wouldn’t care. A drunk one night stand wouldn’t care. But I was a stone cold sober fox and so it made me very apprehensive. This was not the first time sex I was looking for and moreover, this would likely mean skipping a few stages…that we all know I cherish.
The truth is, going into the date I had it set in my mind. I will not have sex tonight. I. Will. Not. Have. Sex. TONIGHT. My body doesn’t always listen to what it’s told though.
I showed up around 9pm. I may have been a little hesitant, still feeling a little jilted from the prior lack of engagement, but as soon as I saw Come Back Charlie
and his gigantic man body all was forgiven. And it only got better from there. He was as sweet as pie. I picked the movie (which ended up being THE WORST MOVIE EVER…word to the wise that Russell Peters Hockey movie barely has Russell Peters in it…oh and also…worst movie ever…ever!). The only highlight of this choice was that it gave us plenty of time to make jokes to each other and comiserate in the awfulness of the movie.
There was a ton of laughter. A ton of cheeky cute smiles. There was a ton of touching. And I can’t lie, everytime his hand made a move along my leg (even if it was only my shin), I swooned. Now don’t get me wrong, when I say swoon I don’t really mean anything more than a little flip of the stomach which btw can be caused by something as intense as an “I love you” and as little as when Michael Ealy
looks at the camera and says SSDated, this is for you and takes his shirt off. But a flip is a flip, a swoon is a swoon, and dude was winning major points in the I want to have sex with you department.
Additional points were added when everytime I wanted to take a sip of water from my glass on the coffee table (which was just far enough away from the couch that I’d have to get up)…Come Back Charlie would simply reach out one of his gigantic arms and without moving an inch from the couch grab my drink for me. *Drool*
Eventually giggles about the movie turned to making out on the couch. And that’s when I made my fatal mistake. Because you see, I’m a moron. I blame all those hormones swirling around in my body keeping me from thinking straight.
You see, when I said want to go to your bedroom? what I really meant was let’s go to your bedroom so this dry-humping can be more sucessful and you can really get a good grab of my ass and sure I guess I could lose this shirt and bra and of course let’s get you shirtless for sure.
Which would’ve been fine. Except that he’s a guy. And so what he heard was let’s go to the bedroom because we’re going to have some sex. Sex is good. I want to have sex with you. In your bedroom. Because that’s where the sexin’ happens.
And so then of course, I had to tell him. So…um…erhm…uh…um…we can’t have sex tonight because I have my period.
To be honest, I expected him to sulk like a 6 year old who was just told that his birthday his been cancelled. But he didn’t. In fact, far from it. His was probably one of the nicest, least deterred, least upset, responses I’ve ever ecountered and given that I’m a woman and this happens every 21 days give or take…this isn’t the first time I’ve had this conversation.
Admittedly, when he said it was totally fine and acted like it wasn’t a big deal and definitely didn’t deter him from the making out in anyway…that was the moment he probably changed my mind…turned out sex would happen.
Well played sir, well played.
You see, the more we made out and grinded up and down on each other’s bodies, the more it seemed feasible. You see, I barely had my period. And we could put down a towel he said. And I guess, in the heat of the moment, I let my decision making skills fall to the wayside and my hormones and lust get the better of me. Hey! It’s not like this hasn’t happened before. Don’t act so damn surprised!
And I know what you’re thinking. Big fucking deal. So what…you had sex on your period…plus you barely have your period…no big thing…people do it all the time. And to that I would say wait. Because the sex…or at least the having of it…was not the problem. It was the missed stages. We went straight from making out to having sex and while in theory…for some people…that’s fine.
But when it comes to sex…I’m like Veruca Salt. I want what I want when I want it.
Needless to say we had sex. There were some highlights. Like when he was on top and just all big and manly and thrusting away and I let it slip out that oh…you’re so hot in a sexy whispered breath of course…and then he slowed his pace, looked at me and said no…you’re so hot! I mean shit, son. That’s some good stuff right there.
But of course, there were some lowlights…like the fact that I didn’t get mine. blargh. And then of course there was the fact that he came in what felt like 3 minutes or so…which I guess considering I didn’t get mine could be argued as a good thing but didn’t bode well for future performances.
But then we were right back to the highlights*
*I say highlights because at the time these things felt awesome and great but now given that I know how the story turns out…well…meh.
Normally, I’m not a huge snuggler. Okay that’s a lie. I’m a relative snuggler. My desire to snuggle depends greatly on who you are, what you mean to me, and what our current relationship is. So needless to say Come Back Charlie and I weren’t really at a “snuggly” place yet. And yet. And yet.
Maybe it was just because he was so big and thus I fit into his nook like a little cocoon. Maybe it was because he was just so damn sweet after. Who knows. But there were snuggles. He just kept snuggling and wouldn’t let go. Eventually I looked at the time and saw that it was 1:30am and I should go because you have to work in the morning. But he didn’t see it quite the same way. But he said just a little bit longer. And so I stayed and cuddled a little bit longer.
Eventually around 2am though I put my foot down (literally) and got up. I tried to shuffle out of the sheets as he seemed near sleep. I expected him to stay in bed. Instead he got dressed and basically played grab ass while I got dressed and gathered up my things. And then he grabbed me around the waist, kissed me and said, so when do I get to see you next? I just smiled and said text me.
He walked me to the door. And then out into the hall. We continued to makeout like teenagers. He said something like so just hit L for Lobby to which I responded uh…yeah…I know…I got into Grad School. And he really got me…Smart ass! he said. And then we made out some more, until the bell of the elevator alerted us to the open doors. A guy stepped off the elevator, obviously flustered by our kissing and then got back inside. Not his floor. I giggled goodbye, hit L for Lobby and watched the doors closed.
And I’m not sure whether he wanted a fist bump or my phone number but buddy in the elevator began to chat me up. Bizarrely not the first time I’ve experienced this kind of behavior. Boys are weird.
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