Tag Archives: sex

Please Don’t Talk During Sex. Thanks.

15 Jun

Back in April I met Adam, the captain of our softball league. I’ve been meaning to write about him for a while, so this is post is a bit overdue.

Meeting Adam

At the beginning of this semester I made friends with Carrie, another young teacher from my district. We had plans to go to a popular country bar in town, so I donned my new boots and my rhinestone cowgirl hat and drove to Carrie’s house. When I found her house, a few of her friends were already there. Including Adam.

Adam and I bonded over our love of country music, and I teased him for wearing a cardigan and a faux-hawk. He kept calling me a “peach” and he asked me to dance a few times. By the end of the night, he had my number and we kissed goodnight at Carrie’s front door.

I woke up on Carrie’s couch early the next morning ready to go home, but I had drunkenly given my car keys to Adam in the parking lot the night before and forgot to get them back from him. When he came back to Carrie’s house to return my car keys, Carrie oh-so-thoughtfully brought up my bookroom sexcapades in front of Adam. Swell.

Naked Adam

I didn’t really hear from Adam again (shocking!) until Carrie and I ran into him at a baseball game about a month later. After the game Adam invited me to watch a movie with him at his house where we drank wine and ate frozen mashed bananas with chocolate sauce. Naturally one thing led to another and we ended up making-out on his couch.

Originally, I didn’t want to have sex with him so soon, but after an hour or two of foreplay and a couple more glasses of wine, I gave in. The sex was good in the beginning, and it was adventurous too. We moved from bedroom to living room to kitchen and then back to bedroom. Then he went soft. Literally.

Just as we moved back to the bedroom, Adam decided to ask me a question:

Adam: “Is the bookroom better than this?”

Me: “No!”

 Adam: “Really?”

He seemed surprised by my answer, so I felt the need to explain.

Me: “Of course not! It’s a bookroom. It sucks.”

By this point he started to go soft, so I too decided to suck. It didn’t work. WTF?!

Adam: “I think we had a miscommunication.”

 Me: “Clearly.”

 Adam: “I asked you if this was better than the bookroom, and you said no.”

Oops.

Me: “Ooh, I heard, ‘Is the bookroom better.’ Of course this is better than the bookroom!”

 By that point the sex was over, even though he didn’t finish. I rolled off of him and got dressed. We hung out for a little bit longer and he wanted to finish what we started, but the moment had passed. He walked me out to my car and kissed me goodnight, and we agreed that we would do it again sometime.

It’s been a month, and it hasn’t happened again.

I know the Adam story isn’t over yet because since that night he has given me some signs that he is still interested – but that’ll be another blog post.

Lingering Thoughts

  • Who brings up past sex partners in the middle of sex?!?!
  • Adam must be very insecure to feel the need to ask me for validation.
  • Carrie has a big mouth and I am never telling her anything ever again.

A Snake in the Bookroom

13 May

Last week was a great week for my…ahem…garden. Monday Viper and I had a secret rendezvous in my bookroom. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t a great idea because we nearly got caught, but hey, you only live once, right?

By the way, isn’t there a new acronym for that? YOLO or something? That just makes me think of yogurt.

Forbidden Fruit

Allow me to take you back a few weeks before I tell you about our bookroom affair.

After our initial bit of bedroom fun, Viper came over again a week later to seal the deal. That’s right, it took a week. It felt like eternity. It would have happened sooner, but Mother Nature decided to intervene for a few days. What a bitch.

Anyway, Viper hasn’t been back to my apartment in over a month since he lives an hour away…and he has kids and a roommate. Damn. Oh, and the roommate is his baby mama. His words, not mine. Double Damn.

Yes, I’ve known about his roommate from the beginning, and no, I do not know if they are still involved or not. Quite frankly, I don’t really care for several reasons:

  1. I have needs, and he satisfies those needs.
  2. This ensures that my relationship with him will remain completely physical, which is just what I need right now.
  3. He is not allowed to get jealous when I do my single girl thing.
  4. His relationship with her is his business, not mine.
  5. He is a grown man and he can do what he wants with whomever he wants.

Secret Rendezvous

Since it is difficult for Viper to get to my apartment, we’ve had to make do with the resources available to us such as his classroom and my bookroom. Usually we’ll just have a hot and heavy make out session in one of those two locations after school, but sometimes we get a little carried away. I mean, the first time Viper and I took advantage of the bookroom, he literally ripped my panties off. Aye!

The bookroom is a windowless room off of my classroom. The only way in is through my classroom, and the door to the bookroom automatically locks from the outside but not the inside. The only surveillance cameras at our school are outdoors. This is why we use the bookroom. It is a fortress.

On Monday, we were in the bookroom doing our thing (quietly, I might add), when suddenly we heard a noise coming from my classroom. Viper froze and we both listened. A moment later, there was another noise. It was the custodian coming to clean my room.

We quickly redressed and I grabbed a stack of random books off of the shelves. I flipped the light off just before opening the door while Viper hid in the back corner of the bookroom. The custodian glanced up as I walked into the classroom, and I cheerfully said hello. I took great care in setting down my large pile of random books and organized them on my table in a very precise manner. I then pretended to notice a poster that had fallen off of my wall earlier that day.

I smiled at the custodian and asked her if she had any duct tape. She doesn’t speak much English, so I pointed to the strips of duct tape keeping other posters and samples of student work mounted on the wall. The custodian smiled and said, “Un momento” and disappeared from the room. I quietly tapped the door to the bookroom, and Viper flew out of my classroom. Thirty seconds later the custodian returned with duct tape, and I calmly taped the poster back to the wall. After a few more trips into the bookroom to grab additional books for my pointless collection, I left.

Viper and I finished what we started on Wednesday. And it was good.

Making Out is Underrated

9 May

One would think that after several months of serious flirting, I wouldn’t have been surprised when Viper kissed me for the first time. I mean he had been bringing me sugary treats for a month, we had two super-secret-early-morning breakfast dates before school, and he had already been to my apartment once (but that was completely G rated. We sat on my couch and talked for an hour. Whoop-de-doo). So when he finally kissed me, the first thought that ran through my head was, “Holy crap, what the hell is going on?!?!” But don’t worry, I didn’t embarrass myself. I hope.

Quick question: have you read my post, Luck of the Irish? Well, this post is about the hours leading up to my horrible first date. In retrospect, I probably would have been more traumatized with that experience had I not seen Viper first, but luckily I managed to squeeze in time for Viper between The Ex’s brother picking up the TV and my date with Mark. The Brother left, and about three minutes later Viper arrived. I swear the God of the Newly-Single was smiling down on me at that moment.

Making Out is WAY Underrated

Since I had bought a new TV to replace the old one, Viper helped me set it up in my living room. I hugged him as a thank-you, but instead of letting go immediately after the hug, he kept his hands around my waist. We smiled at each other for a minute before he made his move. He wasn’t tentative about it either. He just went in for the kill, which is probably part of the reason I was so surprised. I didn’t see it coming. It was also the first time I had kissed someone post-breakup while completely sober.

Somehow we ended up against a wall, and he held my arms above my head with one hand and ran his other hand up and down my torso while he kissed me. Guys, if you are reading this, you need to do this. There is just something about having a wall pressing into your back and a man pressing into your front…damn. I had never been kissed like that before.

We continued in that fashion for some time. I believe we also utilized my couch which is really a love seat, and I do recall quite a bit of time spent pushed up against my front door, which is where Viper’s lips discovered my bellybutton ring. He continued to explore my anatomy with his mouth, but considering it was the end of the day and I had not planned on a hot and heavy make out session, I kept my shorts on.

All good things must come to an end, and I did have a date to get ready for. In all honesty I would have cancelled it, but Viper had to leave too. He lives in a small town about an hour away and he still had some shopping to do, which is why he was in the area in the first place.

Round Two

I guess his shopping list was a short one, because he sent me a text about twenty minutes later asking what I was wearing. I replied that I was wearing only water and a smile, since I had just gotten out of the shower. He asked me if I would answer the door like that. I didn’t reply. He came over anyway.

I answered the door fully dressed and made-up, but my hair was still wet. Did you know that bed sheets do a GREAT job of drying wet hair? And since I just got out of the shower, Viper’s lips got to explore much more than just my belly button ring.

Oh, and I was fifteen minutes late for my date. Totally worth it.

I Need New Lingerie (but not from Kmart)

6 May

I met Gary through some mutual friends a couple of months ago, about a week or two after I broke up with The Ex. I wasn’t really interested in meeting anybody yet, so I didn’t see Gary that way. I did notice, however, that he is very attractive for a blonde guy. Clothes hang well on him, and he is HILARIOUS. That night he had me laughing harder than I had laughed in months.

I didn’t think about him again until about a week and a half ago. One of our mutual friends, Kelsey, was hanging out at my apartment for a night of wine and pedicures. Gary called her, and she invited him to join us. He declined, which isn’t too surprising considering we were drinking wine and playing with nail polish.

I guess she gave him my number because I got a text from him the next day apologizing for not coming to wine night. We started texting back and forth for two days before I invited him to come over and bond over our mutual hatred of Kelsey’s boyfriend, Ted.

Whose Lingerie Is This, Anyway?

He came over on a Friday night. It began with what had been promised: Ted bashing. Gary then spotted my acoustic guitar in my bedroom, and he sat on my bed to play a song. Let me tell you, this guy has a great country voice. Like, panty dropping great. He made up a song on the spot, and I wish I could remember the lyrics, because they were ridiculous.

We were both a bit punchy at this point, and one of us jokingly mentioned a text message he had sent me earlier that night. The text conversation looked like this:

I confessed that I didn’t own much in the way of lingerie, but Gary didn’t believe me. I decided to show him my last lingerie purchase from several years earlier: a Mrs. Clause baby doll, complete with white fur trim and white furry pom poms. Gary found this hilarious, and dared me to model it for him. I jokingly replied that I would model it for him only after he modeled it for me. He inspected the craftsmanship of my Kmart lingerie, and decided that with the elastic back and mesh material it would be forgiving enough to fit his larger frame. He kicked me out of my bedroom for his transformation.

Gary didn’t model this over his boxers like I expected. He stripped down to just skin before putting it on. I will never forget how he looked wearing my Santa lingerie while covering his manhood with both hands. I laughed so hard, my abs were screaming and tears were running down my face. Gary changed back into his clothes and then threw me onto the bed. He pointed at me and said, “stay there” in a very serious voice before disappearing into the bathroom. When he came back out he snuggled up next to me and we just stayed there, joking around.

Naughty Fun

Somehow, the topic of boobs came up, and I mentioned my discontent with my 32B cup size. Before I knew it Gary’s tongue was on my nipple, and I remember saying that I’ve never let a guy play with my boobs before kissing me first.

He smiled and said that if he kissed me I would want to sleep with him, so he wasn’t going to do that to me since he wasn’t planning on getting laid tonight. Then he moved on to my other nipple. I said something about not wanting to sleep with him after seeing him in my lingerie, and we both started laughing again.

Break Check!

But he was right. I did want to sleep with him. We did everything but have sex that night. We had a lot of fun with my bag of sex toys, and I blew his mind with my oral skills (his weren’t bad either). When I was ready for the grand finale however, he refused to participate. He said he wouldn’t sleep with me that night, and I still don’t understand why. He had hinted to some naughty fun in his text messages, and while we did have fun and it was quite naughty I expected sex that night, dammit! It is half the reason I invited him over in the first place. Ugh, what a tease!

Regardless, I had a ton of fun with Gary. I haven’t heard too much from him since, which is fine. He is a good time, but I don’t want anything but a good time with him for a couple of reasons:

  1. I learned that he hooked up with one of my best friends six months ago
  2. He has a girlfriend, but he insisted that they were on a break the night we fooled around. Whatever, that is his problem, not mine.

Why Books are Awesome

3 May

I love books. Books are awesome. I love how certain books such as Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and The Outlander Series give me the thrill of adventure and excitement without having to put down my glass of wine. I have a tendency to suffer from post-book depression, which is common in avid readers. Post-book depression occurs when I finish a fantastic book or series with the knowledge that there are no new adventures to be had with my fictional friends. Good books leave a lasting impression.

I also love books because they can be kept in a bookroom. I have a bookroom in my classroom, and this bookroom shelves many exciting adventures between the pages…and out. Lately, I have gotten into a naughty habit of creating my own adventures in this bookroom with another teacher at school. Let’s call him Viper. I am currently typing this while waiting for Viper to come “borrow a book.” I love my job.

(By the way, this post is not actually about books, so if that’s what you are looking for you will not find it here. Keep looking.)

Middle School Crush

The Viper adventure began a couple of months before The Breakup. I tend to give off anti-technology vibes, so I have frequent need of the computer tech at our school. Naturally a friendship developed, but because I was in my loyal-girlfriend-state-of-mind I didn’t really pick up on his not-so-subtle flirty comments.

It got to the point when every time I would call him with a computer problem, he would tell me, “I can fix it, but it’ll cost you.” When I would ask him his price, he would ask for a cup of coffee. You should know that I make fabulous coffee. I have a knack for eyeballing the perfect coffee grounds to water ratio. Add a dash of cinnamon and BAM! The perfect cup of black coffee.

In January we became Facebook friends, and he started messaging me on the weekends. Our messages started out friendly, but they soon became flirtier and flirtier. When he would stop by my room for coffee, he would hang out for a few minutes while waiting for it to “finish” brewing, even when it was done. Every time he stopped by a curious thing happened: I was suddenly very horny.

Good Vibrations

Feeling the tingle below the belt is quite unexpected in a room full of stinky middle school students, but Viper just had a way of instantly turning me on. I started to fantasize about him on my drives to and from work. After G rated conversations with him after school, I would still be turned on when I got home an hour later. Then, he started to send me Facebook messages at six in the morning. That was when I finally figured out that he was interested.

I think Viper was the wake-up call I needed to break up with The Ex. I mean, The Ex and I had a horrible sex life. We had sex about once a month, and even that was a chore. I think it was partially because I didn’t have any respect for The Ex as a man considering his alcoholism, his lack of direction, his dead end pizza delivery job, and his frequent degrading comments towards me; but I am now sure that it was also because The Ex didn’t have a clue about foreplay. He would spring a boner and be ready to pounce without trying to start my engine first. Viper, on the other hand, is a foreplay GOD!

But I’m jumping ahead of myself, and I would like to clarify that I didn’t start fooling around with Viper until about a month after The Breakup.

The Epiphany

Viper helped me to realize a few different things:

a) There are other eligible men in this city, not just The Ex.

b) Many of these other men have much more going for them than The Ex did.

c) Some of these other men actually want me.

d) I could break up with The Ex and thrive instead of simply survive.

Not that I am looking for a new relationship with Viper or anybody else for that matter, nor do I need to have a man in my life to feel like I am worth something, but Viper helped me to realize that I am a strong independent woman who doesn’t need to waste any more time with a loser. I should take advantage of my youth and have fun instead.

And that’s what I’m doing.

In the bookroom.

But more about that later…

Good Ol’ Max

28 Apr

As you already know, I was with The Ex for eight years. When you spend eight years of your life with someone, you end up with quite a few mutual friends post-breakup. Max is one of those mutual friends. In fact, Max is The Ex’s best friend and he is also one of my best friends. Before I jump into the Max story, however, you need to understand the gravity of the situation, so sit back for a little background information.

 Here are some basic facts about Max:

  • Max was married when we met him.
  • His ex-wife, CDog, and I used to be good friends, until she lost her mind and became psychotic.
  • Max and CDog have two beautiful little girls together, and I love these little girls more than anything.
  • Max is the singer in The Ex’s band.
  • Max was a combat medic for the Coast Guard, and has served tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan.
  • Max was the only survivor in a helicopter crash while fighting overseas, and he is now considered a “disabled war veteran” but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him.
  • Max is amazing.

Max: My Breakup Hero

The night I broke up with The Ex, I packed a bag and went to spend the night at a friend’s apartment in the same complex. Keep in mind that Valentine’s Day was on a Tuesday this year, so I had to teach the next day. In my emotional frenzy, I forgot to pack half of my over-night necessities, and the last thing I wanted to do was go back to my apartment to get the rest of my toiletries while The Ex blubbered over my shoulder.

As I pondered this dilemma, Max called to check on me. I think his intention was to talk me out of breaking up with The Ex, but after I half sobbed half yelled my extensive list of reasons for the breakup into his ear, Max said, “I can’t disagree with anything you just said.” I was shocked. He then asked if there was anything he could do to help me through the transition, and I explained that I needed The Ex to leave our apartment for the night so I could sleep in my bed and function at work the next day. Five minutes later The Ex knocked on the door to tell me that he was going to his parents’ house for the night. I went home, toiletry problem solved.

Wine + Whiskey + Max = Oops…

About a month after breaking up with The Ex, Max came over with wine and whiskey. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he usually came over with wine and whiskey pre-breakup too. We had a great time catching up with each other. He told me about his conquests, and I told him about the sexy teacher at school I had been flirting with for the past couple of months (I’ll tell you more about him later). We took shots of whiskey between glasses of wine, and even thought it was a Sunday night I decided to be reckless and drink far too much. I justified this behavior by reminding myself that the next day was library day, so I wouldn’t have to teach, just monitor.

The unfortunate thing about whiskey and wine is that there is a tipping point when all inhibitions come crashing down around you; but perhaps this happens with other alcoholic beverages too. Everybody has their spirit to stay away from. For most it is tequila, for many it is whiskey, for some it is rum. I suppose it is easier to blame the alcohol for your bad decisions than to blame yourself. It is much easier to say, “Well the whiskey made me do it” than to say, “I drank too much and made a bad decision.” I prefer to say that the whiskey made me do it.

Max and I reached the tipping point of intoxication around midnight. We were sitting on my couch which is really a love seat, and Max started to tell me how amazing I am, how much he’s loved me since he first met me, how he never thought that The Ex and I would break up. I’ll admit that I had always had a mini-crush on Max too, but I never thought I would have the opportunity or the carelessness to act on it.

He moved in to kiss me and in my foggy state of mind I was open to the idea, but he stopped just before making contact and asked if we were really going to do this.

We did. Twice.

The whiskey made me do it.

The Breakup

27 Apr

I’m the girl who was with her high school boyfriend for eight years because she was too lazy to break up with him for the last three. I’m also the girl who broke up with the guy on Valentine’s Day. What a bitch, right?

Long story short, I am a teacher and he has been delivering pizzas for the past eight years. I am very happy with my life, and he drowns himself in beer, my wine, and whatever hard liquor he can find in the house, pretty much every night. He is lost, and I couldn’t afford to follow him around aimlessly for another eight years. I was no longer able to pretend to be someone I wasn’t.

And for the record, I’m not actually a bitch. Unless you ask The Ex or my students; then I’m Super Bitch. *Insert super hero music here*

The Gory Details

The catalyst for the breakup came the weekend before Valentine’s Day. I had plans to go out with the girls on Saturday night while The Ex was working. I had a bottle of rum left over from New Year’s Eve hidden in the closet (I had to hide my alcohol from him or else it would disappear while I slept), but I guess I hadn’t hidden it well enough because it had already been mostly consumed when I found the bottle. You couldn’t cover the bottom of a shot glass with what he had oh-so-considerately saved for me. The Ex, of course, didn’t see a problem with this minor detail.

After an explosive sprint of a fight I decided to ignore him for the rest of the night. In eight years, I had never ignored his calls or texts for longer than a couple of hours. I ended up closing the bar, and he slept on the couch. I think my night was much more enjoyable than his.

The next morning I went to a friend’s apartment before he woke up. I continued to ignore his calls, until I got hungry and decided to let him treat me to breakfast. Over breakfast I forgave him and we went on with our lives.

Enter St. Valentine…

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around we had come to a silent agreement to forget about the fight. We had dinner at Chili’s (and it was delicious. I freakin’ love Chili’s). We had a perfectly enjoyable dinner and we were waiting for our dessert when it started: the beginning of the end.

The Ex brought up the events of Saturday night during our Valentine’s Day dinner. Who does that?

I won’t bore you with extensive dialogue, but after describing the complete fucked-up-ness of my behavior on Saturday night he told me to “take a good long hard look in the mirror” because I’m “not perfect either.” I agreed with him, I did need to reevaluate my life decisions. In the eight years we’ve been together, I’ve graduated from high school and college, found the job of my dreams, kick ass at it every day (I’m not a modest person. It is one of my faults.), I’ve been offered a second (awesome) job because of an education blog I write (not telling which one), and I was extremely happy with almost every aspect of my life. What the hell was I doing with this guy?

He stormed out of Chili’s after I paid for dinner with a gift card from work, and I broke up with him when we got home. The following day I packed up all of his crap because I’m nice like that, and he picked it up the next day. I am kind of surprised at how easy it was to end an eight year relationship.

I am also surprised at how much I love being single. First of all, living alone is amazing. If I clean the kitchen, it will still be clean when I get home!! What a concept! I can play my music as loud as I want to, leave my shoes in the living room when I’m too lazy to put them away, and I can hook up with inappropriate men at any time of day…but more about them later.

The clouds have parted, as have my legs, and I am having too much fun to not document it. When I’m an old lady I will know that I have lived. As for The Ex…he can drink shit. 🙂