Yep, that’s me at my finest (most unpredictable).
The date with Phelps could not have been any more lame. Watching paint dry would literally have been a better option.
A. He sat there like a bump on a log and never asked me one question the entire time. WTF? I mean even if you’re not interested in someone, you fucking make conversation on a date, right? I knew the moment he walked in with his shoulders hung that I wasn’t attracted to him, but I still managed to find out all sorts of things about his life. He left there without one nugget of information about me besides the fact that I have a bubbly personality.
B. His shoulders weren’t the only thing that were sagging. His jeans were drooping to the point I had to wonder if he even had an ass under all that material.
After I sucked down one glass of wine I told the bartender I’d take my bill, alerting Phelps to the fact that our date was ending. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Gray had been texting me earlier, so I told him about the lame date. He replied that he was at a friend’s house nearby. Hmmm…I thought…
After that dreadfully boring date, I definitely needed to counteract it with something spicy. So I invited Gray over.
We have always kept our interactions public, so he had never been to my place, despite mentioning his interest in seeing where I live several times before. Given his circumstances (and mine, for that matter), I just haven’t wanted to complicate my life any further. But I understand his situation a lot better after getting to know him for several months now, and I really do feel I can trust him to not pressure me into doing something I don’t want. I know if I told him ‘no’ he would stop in a heartbeat. That’s just the kind of guy he is. So finally having him over brought with it no pressure or anxiety for me. I felt like we would just be two friends hanging out. Two friends who happen to be very attracted to one another, that is. ; )
He arrived bearing pizza. Pulp Fiction was on TV, so I was sort of watching that as he scarfed down his food. I sized him up out the corner of my eye, pleased he was there. He looked good. Really good. His strong, sexy tan legs were showcased by a pair of khaki shorts and flip-flops while his well-defined chest and arms were rippling under a black v-neck tee. Yum, I thought. He’s so fucking fine.
I chattered on about my dating disaster while he ate. He was a willing listener to all of my dating struggles in general. We talked about my relationships with Roberto and Tristan, and how I question if it would ever really work for me to be in a real relationship at all. He told me he totally understands due to his situation with “Florida.” He’s been dating her for several years, but he claims she’s not the one. She, however, wants to marry him. I feel her pain. I was there with Tristan.
Gray looked at me intently and said simply, “I won’t marry her, she thinks I’ll change my mind, but I won’t.”
Unfazed by his pronouncement, I wisely threw back, “You never know. You could change your mind. You could get old and sick and decide you want her to be by your side to take care of you.”
He thought about that for a second, and then said matter-of-factly, “She would be a good one for that.”
“Yep.” I said. “People change their minds all of the time due to changing circumstances. I’ve learned that anything is possible in life.”
We sat there watching the intense sex scene in Pulp Fiction when he quietly looked over and asked if he could lay his head in my lap. “Would that be okay with you, or is that too much?” His beautiful gray eyes implored mine as he waited patiently for my permission.
I melted. “Sure, that’s fine.” I said, raising my arms off my lap to allow him a good nestling spot in my curves. I stroked his hair and his back for a long time as we watched the movie. Every once in a while, I would gaze down at his masculine frame and think, this is nice. I am glad he’s here.
After awhile, Gray slipped off his t-shirt, further proving that his body is awesome, and resumed the position with his head in my lap, this time slipping his hands underneath me to cup my ass in his strong grip. I still didn’t think anything would happen. But my hands kept traveling down his sexy bare back, all the way down under his shorts to his ass where I massaged him more intimately.
And before I knew it, he was slipping out of his shorts and briefs and was lying there totally naked. He never once tried to get my clothes off, he just simply went inside my pants and turned me on until I finally *just had to* take his big cock in my mouth and pleasure him.
It didn’t take long. Afterwards he came up to kiss me passionately, while his fingers entwined with mine as he held my hand firmly in his. That kiss incited some emotion for me. I wonder if he felt anything like that…if anything within him stirred emotionally like it did for me. I’m always curious how kissing affects a man, especially after a moment such as the one we had just shared.
He stuck around for a bit longer until I basically asked if he needed to get home. You know me – I can’t have a man sleeping over. It just cramps my style.
This morning when I woke up and went to the kitchen to get my coffee, I smiled as I walked by the couch, remembering last night’s events.
That’s when you know it’s a good thing; when you wake up the next morning and don’t feel any regret. It’s been awhile since I’ve had that feeling, and it feels good.