Tag Archives: Wine

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.
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The Gentle Giant

6 Jun

*Interesting Observation*

I have better luck meeting decent men in bars when I am sober.

So I met a new boy man this past weekend. His name is Leo, and he is in the military. He is also more than a foot taller than I am, which is kind of fun.

Meeting Leo

Friday night I went to a popular country bar with a couple of friends. I volunteered to be the designated driver since I had my first softball league practice the following morning, and I really just wanted to two-step the night away.

After dancing with a couple of older men and a few young frogs, Leo approached our table and asked all of us if we would like a drink. I found this quite impressive considering most guys only offer to buy a drink for the girl he is hitting on. The girls declined the drink offer but suggested that Leo ask me to dance. Poor guy got a little flustered insisting that he couldn’t dance the two-step and that he hadn’t danced in years.

He danced with me anyway – that is if you could call what we did dancing. Really, we just skipped around on the dance floor and sang along to the music at the top of our lungs while he spun me around and around. I had a blast! After the first dance, we had a nice long conversation at the bar while Leo drank another beer. I did notice that he talked a little bit more than I am used to, but he also had a few drinks already so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

After a while I felt a little bad for neglecting my friends, so I made my way over to the table while Leo visited with an old friend from college. After a couple of songs had passed, a sweet looking nerdy guy asked me if I would dance with him. I didn’t really want to because I was into Leo, but the girls insisted that I dance with him.

After my dance, I looked around for Leo. He was easily the tallest guy in the bar, so I found him pretty quickly – talking to a couple of skanky looking blonde girls (and I am not saying that out of jealousy. These girls were wearing super short, tight dresses and fuck-me heels that would be much more appropriate for a Vegas night club or the local red-light district – not for a country bar with a mechanical bull). I shrugged it off and went back to my table.

Not even four minutes passed before Leo was back at our table. He pulled me close to him and said, “Hey, I just want you to know that I am over there talking to those two blonde girls, but I would much rather be over here talking to you.”

I wanted to say, Well then why aren’t you? But instead I said with a friendly smile, “Yeah, I saw you over there.”

Leo explained further, “It’s just that my buddy is trying to hook up with one of them, and he needs my help.”

“Ooh, so you are playing wingman?”

“Pretty much. But I would really rather be over here with you.”

I smiled at him and said, “Go be the wingman, don’t worry about me. I’ll just dance while I wait for you to come back.”

I don’t think he liked my response, because he didn’t leave my side for the rest of the night.

Dinner with Leo

I gave Leo my number before leaving the country bar, and he sent me a text before I got home that night asking me to dinner. I turned him down for two reasons:

  1. Steve Harvey says to never accept a date when asked via text.
  2. I already had plans for Saturday night.

I did talk to Leo on the phone for a whopping five hours that weekend, and since he called me, I went to dinner with him on Monday night. It was delicious – and also only the second date I had been on since breaking up with The Ex. Let me tell you, this date went much better than the first.

  • Leo got out of the car and opened the door for me.
  • When we got to the restaurant, he opened the door to let me out of the car. Geez.
  • He made sure to pull my chair out for me.
  • He was very polite to the waiter.
  • He kissed me at the door and then asked if he could take me on a hike the next day. I agreed.

Okay, so maybe I am easy to impress, but compared to my other date since The Breakup this one was phenomenal. Plus, I can wear my super tall heels and still feel petite next to him.

The Super Sweaty Second Date

We went hiking on a nearby trail the next day. I’ll admit that I was kind of worried about hiking with him so early in our courtship because it isn’t the most glamorous activity, and early June tends to be hot and humid. I’m sure my hair was a mess the entire day, and my tank top had lovely sweat stains in some very unattractive places.

Leo didn’t care. In fact, he used it as an excuse to spray me with water from his water bottle.

After our hike, we went up to the peak of the mountain and found a rock that overlooked the valley below. It was beautiful, and we sat up there for over an hour. He kissed me on that rock a couple of times, which was very nice.

I won’t go into detail about what happened next. Basically, we just went back to my apartment to “watch a movie” and drink some wine. Two bottles later we decided it wouldn’t be safe for Leo to drive, so he slept in my bed. With me.

I know what you are thinking, but my pants stayed on all night long (and I should get mucho credit for that, because there were a few times where I really wanted to take them off).

I treated him to breakfast the next morning and we lounged around on the couch until noon watching the first season of How I Met Your Mother on DVD.

All in all, I would say it was good. Ooh, and the best part? Leo is only in town until the middle of July, which means that I don’t have to worry about a commitment. Woohoo!

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.

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.