Plenty of Fish

I had seen Mr. Tuesday a few times post fur trapping.  Did he notice?  Not sure actually.  Our “friends with benefits” situation was satisfying our basic carnal desires.  Intercourse happens regardless if one has hair or not.  Although he always got to finish, I ensured I ALWAYS did not.  My way of making sure my emotional attachment remained strictly friends.

I enjoyed my time with him however I knew that I wasn’t the ONLY one enjoying HIS time so I made sure that I still was active on the dating sites.  Mr. Tuesday was a tough act to follow but I was determined to explore my options. 

Despite the fact that there were plenty of fish in the sea, the pickings were very slim. 

Below are some the actual email openers that were sent my way:

Bure_pavel69:

Hey Sexy…I have a nice bum and a huge cock.

Tbgoodfun:

How do you feel about slightly older men? (He was 79, just sayin’)

Lemonade9:

I live in New Zealand.  Too far away?  I hope not.

Pleases:

Ok you have a great smile I will try not to lick your lipstick off.

Miraclestar1:

Well! My Dear, I am just a Simple Guy who wants to truly find a Lady to be My Best Friend, and Share My Life in making a commitment to "LOVE" as I don’t play games , for that really hurts and you don't hurt someone that you are in Love with....I have been there and I would never want it to happen again; We only walk this way once, and giving your Heart
To someone Special is what Love is really all about , I want to be Honest and open to a Lady I meet so She will know that I am for real and not giving her a line of lies to get Her to make the wrong choice. I am tired of being alone, and I want to share my Home and life with you if you let me show you who I really am inside as a person looking for Love......

Michel1967:
You have a nice smile. Is it real?

HermanHarvey007:
Sorry to disturb you but I am looking for a nanny for my children. I’d like to know if you are interested.

ScottWillis:
Angels are beautiful but your beauty is the kind that angels dream about.

Bryan69228:
How do you like to take it?

FunRomantic:
Do you have big nipples?

Resonator1976:
Bite my lip and I’m all yours.

Sportygent111:
Be my wife.

Bayboy123:
Will you talk to me…like now…how about later today…okay tomorrow then…please send me a sign…

Let’s face it, dating a crippled girl is not exactly the most appealing thing for men.  Most of the men who contacted me were interested in me either as a pseudo-insta-wife, easy lay or as a novelty.  I was like a bucket list fuck.  One has to admit it makes for great storytelling to say you slept with someone missing an appendage.

I would like to add that all the men mentioned above had HORRIBLY composed photographs that made them look like rapists or serial killers. No joke.  One dude even looked like Jesus on crack. 

I did have a few guys in their 20’s hit me up and they were pretty smooth but I just couldn’t bring myself to follow through… I was old enough to be their mother!!  It was a nice little confidence booster as they were totally cute but I knew EXACTLY what I was to them…circus freak fuck.  No thanks.

I was definitely not going to stop looking despite some of the discouraging, and sometimes disturbing, messages I received.  I kept thinking to myself…four more dicks in me and my oats would be have been sowed completely.  Thusly I had to keep on truckin’.  My current arrangement with Mr. Tuesday was super convenient I believe for the both of us.  So why stop a good thing?  We were both having our cake and eating it too, right?  It was always casual with ZERO strings attached.  It was exactly what I wanted until he called me and asked me to go out with him to a fancy show.

Kiss and Yell

I was on a bit of a high, post sex and feeling fucking awesome rehashing my dirty tryst with Mr. Tuesday with all my girlfriends.  They were ALL so happy for me and I just needed to complete my circle and relay my latest life update with Victor. 

I’ve known Victor for over half of my life.  The dude has seen me through all the highest of the highs and lowest of the lows and vice versa.  He is the one person who truly knows ALL the skeletons in my closet.  We don’t see or speak with each other often but when we do, the two of us just pick up where we left off last.  Happily married with two kids and his wife is deadly gorgeous.

It was my bff duty to call him.  It was late Friday night when we spoke.  I was all bubbly and giddy as I retold, in great detail, my unexpected sexcapade.  I totally thought he’d be all over the fact that I did something so out of character and so very liberating.  He was well aware of my ‘dry spell’ and my complete lack of confidence so I was really expecting that final pat on the back from my oldest and dearest friend. 

Alas.  That was not the case.

VICTOR:

Are you out of your fucking mind??

ME:

What are you talking about?  Dude, I JUST had a super lusty night with someone.  It was totally consensual and fun.  Very out of character of me but fuck, it was awesome.

VICTOR:

I just don’t think that you are being very smart.  You just moved out on your own, you have kids…

ME:

Wait.  What does just moving out and having kids have to do with the fact that I just fucked someone?

VICTOR:

You just don’t want to bring that shit into your home.  Plus you’re a mother.  Kids first.

I was totally flabbergasted at his response to my encounter.  I truly believed that he would be on cloud nine for me considering how he knew exactly how I felt about my self-esteem and my situation.  He was supposed to share in my glory.  Be happy that I did something that felt so damn good both physically and mentally, once I got past my numerous anxiety attacks, that is.

VICTOR:

You don’t know a single thing about him besides the fact that he is a “player”.

ME:

What’s wrong with that?  I knew exactly what kind of creature he was when I went on the date with him.  Eyes wide open for me.  I wanted to test the waters out, to just have fun.  I haven’t been laid in two fucking years and what better way to get fucked then with someone who KNOWS what he’s doing.  Penis in vagina was pretty nice dude.

VICTOR:

Did you come?

ME:

No but…

VICTOR:

HA!  Not good then.  What’s the point of fucking someone if you don’t come? 

ME:

Ummm…HE came…TWICE…so I think I did alright.  Anyways, I don’t give a shit if I came or not…I fucked someone and someone willingly wanted to fuck me.  My vagina was serviced with a fucking real dick and a pretty nice one as a matter of fact,  tell me that isn’t fucking awesome??   I took care of business afterward.  He was gentlemanly during the whole encounter and I feel great, what’s the problem Victor?

VICTOR:

I just think that you need to concentrate on getting your shit together and focusing on the kids.  I just think that you’re not being very smart.  I think you need to talk to someone.  A professional.

Whatever miniscule moment of happiness I had, vanished after talking to him.  I began to doubt my decision about getting into the dating game and especially sleeping with Mr. Tuesday.  Maybe I was being a selfish bitch.  That I was putting my needs first above all things.  I was a shitty human being for being so frivolous.  I wanted to crawl under a rock and die.  Dammit.

I managed to sway the conversation from my tryst to updating him on all the other mundane shitty parts of my life which seemed to suit him fine.  I eventually let him go but not before he had to shank me with…“Make sure you go and talk to someone and kids first bitch.”  Kiss. Kiss. 

Fuck.  Sigh.

I laid on my couch for a good thirty minutes mulling over the events of the last twenty-four hours and what Victor spewed at me.   I teared up a bit thinking that I disappointed my oldest friend but then I realized he was just looking out for my best interests and being protective.  Maybe I needed that dose of tough love.  To ensure that I keep my head and heart separate as I further explore this “friends with benefits” arrangement.  It is all brand spanking new to me.  I also noted that he isn’t living MY LIFE.  No matter how much I discuss my situation with him or anyone for that matter, they will NEVER understand exactly what I am feeling.  No one can.

I am a grown damn woman.  Being a mother doesn’t mean I have to forget who I was BEFORE kids.  I’m still a single woman with basic needs, wants and desires.  I should be able to act upon them as I see fit, with whom I see fit, if it makes me happy.  Not everyone is going to be pleased with me but I have to remember that it’s okay.  Good or bad, I know a lesson is going to be learned that will make or break me.  If it’s the latter then so be it.  Like I said, I ALWAYS find a way to pick myself up, dust myself off and move the fuck on.

  

Please Insert Here

Mr. Tuesday was stark-ass naked now.  I had his generous (Thank GOD) and very turgid member firmly gripped in my right hand.  One of his hands then slipped inside the back of my fancy panties.  GAHHHH!!!  This was seriously happening…JESUS CHRIST! 

I let him go and felt him bounce against my still underwear covered ass.  I was straddling his waist now, the flimsy piece of cloth separating my more intimate connection to him, drenched.  My top was now askew and I my placed my outstretched arms on either side of his head. 

Mr. Tuesday and I looked at each other lustfully, my long hair tenting our faces.  I felt him tug my panties completely off me, an easy feat when you only have one leg.  Surprisingly enough, especially to me, was the fact that I wasn’t self-conscious of him seeing my stump in all its amputated glory.  With him I forgot I wasn’t physically complete.  There was something about him that ALWAYS allowed me to forget.  I liked that.

I was completely exposed from the waist down now and I could feel the length of his shaft against my seam.  Jesus, Mary and Joseph was that ever winding me up!  I leaned down to latch onto his mouth.  To have his tongue explore mine with abandon.  Whatever his mouth was doing, I wanted to have his member mimic the same to me below the waist.  My lord was it ever an excruciatingly welcome torture.

My blood started to slow and white noise filled my ears as he continued to kiss me and ruthlessly rub himself against my opening.  I needed air.  I couldn’t breathe fast enough.  I was gasping into his right ear enjoying the feel of his stubbly jaw against my cheek.  When I broke free he used that as an opportunity to pull my top off me.

All of a sudden, I was thoroughly naked in front of him.   There was just enough light coming from the hallway that it dawned on me…Mr. Tuesday would see E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.  My saggy boobs, my wrinkled soft middle that bore scars from childbirth, my poorly deforested crotch, all of my imperfections I hide with clothes, laid bare.  That ULTRA amazing feeling I was climbing to just landslided HUGE.

Hello anxiety attack number three.

Mr. Tuesday looked fantastic without clothes on and I needed to remedy my situation quickly.  I didn’t give two fucks—no pun intended—about what satisfaction I needed.  I was hell bent on ensuring that he would be taken care of without having to endure looking at the grossly imperfect side of me.  Distract.  Distract.  MOTHERFUCKING DISTRACT!!!!

I just needed to go though the motions and get the deed and him done by any means possible.  I had to complete the challenge.  I leaned forward as my chest and pebbled nipples dragged against his smooth heated torso.  I adored that skin-to-skin contact.  I kissed him deep and full once more then licked and nibbled his neck and ears.  Then I felt his right hand grip my hip and his left hand position himself to enter me.  The lush tip of his cock teasing my slick entrance then in one fail swoop he pushed up and I sunk into him. Penis entered vagina….wait a minute… OMG.  OMG.  HOLY FUCK!  PENIS HAS ENTERED VAGINA! Mr. Tuesday groaned loudly and I looked at him, my eyes wide and my mouth open to a perfect ‘O’ as he filled me from root to tip.  He started to move, to slowly pump me as I laid on top of him.  Fuck.  He felt so good but I wanted to feel him deeper and harder which meant that I had to sit up and expose myself to him where he could see all the unattractive bits of me. 

He wanted that too, to be deeper in me I could tell.  He slipped his hands in front and pushed me off him just a little so that he was now intently palming and cupping my breasts and rolling my peaked nipples in between his fingers.  Goddamn.   What he was doing felt incredible and I needed compliment his actions with my own but I was freaking out at the fact that he would really have to look at me once I sat upright.

I finally found the courage and to sit up but not before I crossed my forearms in front of me so that my boobs were all that he saw as I placed my sweaty palms against his chest.  I figure this was the best I could do to hide my jelly belly. 

I began to rock my hips and grind myself against him.  Mr. Tuesday groaned loudly as I squeezed him against my inner walls.  He suckled my breasts and pinched my nipples every now and then, which drove me absolutely insane and I just wanted to fuck him even harder however that would mean me leaning back more and he would see just too much unsightly things in the available light.

I knew I was totally over thinking everything which killed a bit the mood on my end but I assumed that what I was doing was decent because he was audibly moaning and panting.  Just take care of him…just take care him…just take care of him I kept repeating to myself. 

I think he wanted me to ride him to the brink and I just couldn’t do it…I was too self-conscious so I figure the best way to hide myself and take care of business was to be a ‘giver’.  I bent forward and kissed him again and then began my slow descent south.  Licking, kissing, sucking and blowing bits and pieces of his ears, throat, chest and stomach.  My long hair like a sheet being dragged against his skin as my mouth moved lower. 

Mr. Tuesday ‘manscapes’!  This motherfucker TOTALLY deserves a blowjob!  Only truly considerate bastards know women don’t want to inadvertently floss their teeth with pubes.

I grazed my lips on his hips, licked his inner thigh and made my mouth known to expanse of skin below his waist.  I looked up at Mr. Tuesday through my lashes as he watched me trace my tongue from base to tip before I opened wide and swallowed his aching manhood until I felt him hit the back of my throat.  I could taste myself on him.  He hissed loudly as I continued my assault, my head bobbing up an down as I ensured I kept him nice and wet inside my mouth.  He started to roll his hips and grabbed a fistful of my hair as I sucked him harder.  He fucked my mouth long enough that my jaw began to slowly ache and my lips became swollen.  I could tell he wasn’t going to let me finish him this way otherwise it wouldn’t have gone on for this long.  I pushed my hair away from my face, kissed his velvety crown and looked at him through hooded eyes.

Mr. Tuesday pulled me up towards him, kissed me quickly then slipped away and stood at the edge of the bed…Ahhh…doggie style…I was game, as this position didn’t show off too much of my unsightly body, well from the front at least.  He entered me unbearably slow I couldn’t help but gasp loudly at the sensation of it.  He pulled back then without warning slammed into me deep.  “FUCK!” I called out.  He was then feverish in his onslaught of me.  Driving himself faster, harder and deeper.  We were both panting hard and I was fisting the sheets.   He let out a laboured groan, gripped my hips roughly before he pulled out and came.  

I already knew that I was never going to finish that night.  My personal hang-ups about my body were too great to fully enjoy my time with him.  He was taken care of and that was my objective.  I also prayed to God he didn’t notice my inexperience.  I just wanted to be a decent lay.   I also FINALLY got the fucking cobwebs cleaned out after two fucking years!!  FUCKING A BITCHES!!!!!!!

Mr. Tuesday then composed himself as did I, got back into bed, asked if I was okay, to which I replied a soft “yeah”, pressed his chest against my back, his left arm around my waist and spooned me as he fell soundly asleep.   I do not cuddle post coitus.  I'm a fuck me, don't touch me and sleep on the wet spot kind of girl.  I found it oddly strange that I did not mind him next to me.

I was awake.  More awake then if I had 5 venti Starbucks blonde roast coffees back-to-back.  My mind was racing reviewing what just transpired and I started to freak out…I think I just made a HUGE FUCKING MISTAKE….

 

LET'S GO!!

Mr. Tuesday could tell something was wrong when he let me in.

HIM:

You alright?

He leaned in and gave me a soft peck on the lips.  God he smelled good.

ME:

I’m fine….I think I need a drink.

HIM:

Sure I’ll get you some water.

Fuck the water.  I needed something stronger.

ME:

No.  I need a REAL drink.

And with that statement I made my way to his living room and got comfortable on the couch and attempted to exhale the nervous tension I was feeling.

HIM:

Babe, it’s almost 2 in the morning I can’t believe you want me to be your bartender now.  I have work in the morning.

His use of the word ‘babe’ made me smile and the fact he sounded playful put me a bit more at ease.  I just continued to giggle relentlessly.

Mr. Tuesday was making his way towards me with a giant glass filled with clinking ice and something alcoholic that was red.  My eyes followed him as he sat perpendicular to me on his sectional.  He placed the drink on the coffee table and softly pressed his lips to mine then kissed my forehead before sinking his back into the couch. 

HIM:

We should be sitting on my bed not on the couch.  What is this?

He chuckled and smirked towards me.  Fuck he was so cute.  I was crazy nervous.  I knew that he could tell that I was, because I could not stop giggling.  His only physical contact with me was that kiss.  He kept his distance.  I could tell he was trying to be respectful or at least attempting to be a VERY patient wolf.  Either way, it was endearing.

I knew that he liked my hair down.  I pulled the hair tie out and shook my hair free so it fell in large soft waves past my shoulders.  His eyes lit up a little when I did that and his smile more devilish.

ME:

Thanks for the drink.

With that statement I took the large glass brought it to my mouth and basically pounded the drink back like it was shot.  Ice cubes and all.  I think he gave me a Caesar but the hell if I knew.  I didn’t taste anything.  I just wanted to drink it as fast as I could in the hopes that it’s effect would work it’s magic to loosen me up a bit.  No pun intended. 

HIM:

Baby!  What are you doing?  You gonna get sick!

I noticed the genuine shock on his face as I took down the beverage as fast as I did.  I also felt the butterflies go haywire in my belly when he called me ‘Baby’.  Cute.  I slammed the empty glass back onto the coffee table and let out a cleansing breath.

ME:

Okay!

HIM:

Okay?

I scooted over closer to Mr. Tuesday, leaned in and kissed him proper with just a hint of tongue.  He searched my eyes to make sure I was really okay with everything. I had stopped giggling all together after I kissed him.  Smirked and straightened my back.

ME:

Okay.  Let’s go!

HIM:

We can sit for a bit if you want.

ME:

NOPE.  Let’s go.  Take me to your bedroom…Right now!

And I stood up.

Oh man the grin he had on his face was priceless as was the chuckle he let out.  I think he was slightly taken aback by my unabashed demeanor.  You have no idea how adorable he looked in his PJs.  Heartstrings pulling.  I had to remind myself to shut that shit down.  NO ATTACHMENT.

He stood up, firmly held my left hand in his—swoon—and gingerly helped me hop down the hallway towards his bedroom.  There were a couple candles already burning in the dimly lit space. 

His bedroom, like the rest of his place was very masculine.  Browns and blacks were the colour scheme again.  His bed took up the majority of the space in his room.  He left the hall light on and there was music playing in the background.  Fuck.  This guy knows how to fully prepare.  I guess when you’re as worldly as him you kind of remember a few things when entertaining ladies.  We stop at the foot of his bed and I let go of his hand.

ME:

Okay.  Which side of the bed is yours?

He points to the left and I make my way to the right side.  He pulls the covers down and waits for me.  I begin unbuttoning my jeans and slip my cardigan off.

ME:

Just so you know I am leaving my panties and top on when I get in bed with you.

HIM:

Aww…seriously?

ME:

YOU…you are in FULL pajama regalia, there is no fucking way I am getting in naked if you’re not.  I’m not wearing a bra so that should make things a little easier.

I slipped into his bed and laid there…like a cadaver waiting for an autopsy.  Hands at my side, covers pulled up to my chest.  He kept his PJ bottoms on but I watched as he pulled his T-shirt off.  My breath hitched just a little.  He was toned.  His shoulders broad his arms defined and his chest smooth.  Fuck.  I’m going to look like shit next to him and that’s when anxiety attack number two came.

I could feel the beverage I just drank fighting it’s way to come up and minute beads of sweat began to form on my forehead and I instantly felt my hands go clammy. 

SHIT.  SHIT.  SHIT.  Not now.  NOT NOOOWW!

I HAD to pull it together or this night was going to crash and burn.  The bed had already dipped signalling that he was getting in.  FUCK!  I raised my right arm and placed my forearm on my forehead for a brief second to attempt to wipe the sweat off before placing that arm behind my head and praying my hair would help absorb the clamminess from that hand.  I gripped the sheets with the other under the covers to alleviate the problem with the left. 

I felt a brief cool whoosh of air against my bare leg and a half when he lifted the covers to get in and he scooped me close to him.  I could feel my heart in my throat.  Which was now parched by the way.  I felt dizzy but at the same time tingly in all the right places.  I had no choice but to rest my head against his smooth soft chest and just let his arms envelope me as I did the same.  My right arm rested just above the waistline of his pj’s.  Christ.

Mr. Tuesday kissed the top of my head, exhaled and whispered a soft “goodnight” against my ear, relaxed and closed his eyes.  He was super observant and was aware that I was nervous.  He knew that I haven’t slept with anyone in two years BUT he had no clue that he was now about to be the second man in my existence to share a bed with.  I was panicking because I was so desperate not to show my inexperience.  I wanted to make sure he was going to be taken care of.  I wasn’t sure how he would take the fact that he would be my number two on my proverbial bedpost.  I’d never reveal that but he may figure that out on his own once things got…er… more heated.

At this point it didn’t look promising.  Don’t get me wrong - feeling his entire body pressed against mine was glorious.  We were in our own little cocoon and I have never felt so safe in my entire life.  Bold of me to say considering that Mr. Tuesday was a practical stranger I met nine days ago and saw for a few hours that one night getting all hot and heavy.

He was ALWAYS a gentleman with me.  Conscious of boundaries.  He was going to let me initiate.  Fucker.  I squeaked out a breathy ‘goodnight’ against his pectoral and gave him a kiss on the base of his throat.  He squeezed me tighter after that.  Sigh.  I felt him against my leg.  He wasn’t fully hard but I was very much aware that he could be in mere seconds.

Okay it was sink or swim time for me.  Don’t think.  Don’t think.  JUST DO!  LIVE BITCH!   JUST FUCKING LIVE IN THE MOMENT!

I’m fairly confident that Mr. Tuesday could literally feel my heart pounding against him like a portable massager.  I closed my eyes for just a moment to gather my shit together and focus. 

I schooched myself up just enough so that when I started to peck at the hollow of his neck, his stubbly jaw and just behind his ear I would end up finishing at his mouth.  I pressed my lips to his and he welcomed me.  Our tongues wrestling against each other in a desperate need to taste.  I instantly felt myself getting wet and now REALLY felt him against me through his pajama bottoms.  The kiss grew deeper and more frantic.  I bit his lower lip and slipped my hand that was resting just above his waistline inside his pajama bottoms.  I lightly grazed him with my fingers and he groaned ever so slightly. 

Mr. Tuesday’s mouth was ravaging my neck with abandon.  I was pretty much on top of him now, my right hand still in his pants palming and cupping him.  He kissed his way down to the valley in between my chest and pulled down one side of my top to gain access to one of my heaving breasts.  The relief and pleasure I felt when his warm mouth made contact with my straining hardened nipple was exquisite torture.  I moaned audibly as he laved me there.  Holy fuck.  I was on the verge of getting off right there just from him doing that!  I was firmly stroking him now inside his pants.

Mr. Tuesday paused for just a moment to help me gain better access to him.  I winced at the lack of contact from his mouth.  He pulled off his pajama bottoms and I now saw exactly what I was holding in my hands…

Just Jump

Mr. Tuesday calling late wasn’t anything surprising.  Most of our conversations happen after 10pm anyways.  It was really nice knowing there was someone who actually wanted to talk and get to know me.  We were becoming friends, which I liked very much.  Like I said, he was way too charming and funny NOT to want to keep.

We made standard polite chitchat then in his typically charming fashion he cracked one of his terribly cheesy jokes and I cringed and laughed at the same time.  We started talking about our first date and how we were both very remorseful about it ending a little too prematurely.  I told him that he was a great kisser and that I could have done SO MUCH more.  He agreed.  We both sighed at the same time then silence…

In my mind I was recalling that night and imagining all the things that would have happened had I stayed longer.  I pressed my thighs together and felt myself getting tight down there.  I pipe up and say with hopeful questioning…

ME:

I’m okay with the whole friends with benefits thing if that’s what you want. 

HIM:

Yeah, yeah…we could do that.  That’s fine…friends…that mouth of yours….mmm…

Mr. Tuesday’s voice got a little low and husky now.

We sexually teased each other back and forth again about what we liked.  Hot and bothered doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling now.  My lower lip was raw from biting and my panties completely soaked.

HIM:

You should come to my place.

He jokingly said.

ME:

Uhhh…I think you should come to mine.  I’ve already been to your place.

HIM:

My place is better.

ME:

WHY?  What is it about a dude’s place that makes it better?

HIM:

It’s just better.  Guys just like being in their space.  Ha…you gonna come over?

I was giggling now.

ME:

NO!  It’s really late but fucker, you made me totally horny, you bastard.

HIM:

Awww…come on….come over…

It was now almost one in the morning.  I knew that it was very late.  I knew that he was completely teasing me about coming over.  I knew that I wanted to see him again to feel his lips against mine - amongst other things on my body. The cogs in my head suddenly spun in a completely different direction and clicked into a place very uncharacteristic of me.  I have no clue what made me so bold to say I what I said next…

ME:

Okay.  I’ll come over.

HIM:

Wait…WHAT?

ME:

I said yeah.  I’ll come over.  I need your address.

HIM:

Are you being serious?

ME:

Yes.  Don’t you want me to come over?

HIM:

Fuck.  Of course!

ME:

Okay.  I’m going to get ready.  See you soon.

I hung up before I could change my mind.  Then I realized that he never gave me his address, so I text him.  He immediately calls me back instead.

ME:

Hey…I need your address fucker.

HIM:

I’m not sure this is a good idea.

ME:

Why?  Is it because it’s so late?

HIM:

No.  I just don’t want to make it weird between us.  The friendship is important to me.

My shoulders slump in disappointment.

ME:

Okay…if that’s what you want.  I don’t want to make it weird between us either but I’m totally okay with friends with benefits…you know that….but that’s fine…it’s all good.

Damn.  Sigh.

HIM:

It’s not that I don’t want you…it’s just…(long pause)…it’s just that I don’t believe it would be respectful because I think the world of you.

Always a gentleman that fucker.

ME:

I’m 100% okay with the friends with benefits thing, but if it will make our friendship weird then don’t worry about it.  It’s all good…I understand.

HIM:

Umm…I think…hmmm…you know what…FUCK IT.  Just come over.  Even if nothing happens we can just cuddle in bed.

HOLY SHIT. 

ME:

Okay…but it’s alright if you don’t want me to come over. It’s totally fine.  I don’t want it to be weird between us.

HIM:

No…no…just come over.  It’s fine.

ME:

Okay text me your address and I should be at your place in about half an hour.

HIM:

Okay.  See ya soon.

HOLY FUCK!  I’m really gonna do this.  I’m going to his place in the middle of the night.  This is fucking CRAZY!  MENTAL!

Okay.  Breathe.  Deep breaths.  You just jumped off a cliff and are waiting to fly or crash.  Which one is it going to be girl?

WAIT!  FUUUUUCCCKKKK!

When one hasn’t engaged in any intimate physical activity in over 2 years there really isn’t a point in doing any kind of maintenance down the vagina way.  Now, with the possibility of that looming in less than an hour, one is in a desperate scramble to correct that severe oversight.

I quickly make my way to my ensuite and pray to God that I have razors.  Please, please…PLEASE!!!  I check the cupboard under the sink and collapse with tears of joy in my eyes when I see that there are still three brand new razors left.

I have never in my life spread my legs open and mowed the lawn so fast down there.  It was almost like watching a time-lapse video in ultra high speed.  I went through all THREE razors! It was THAT bad.  I pretty much shaved an Ewok off my crotch once I looked at the floor of my tub.

I put on a pair of cute panties, fitted dark jeans and a floral print deep V-neck cap sleeve top with NO bra-so classy I know-and a yellow cardigan.   Spritzed some perfume onto my cleavage, piled my hair into a bun and waited for the cab to arrive.

What I was doing to so incredibly uncharacteristic of me I was trying to reason with myself on the ride over.  I completely ignored all warning signs that what I was doing was a mistake.  That I wasn’t ready for anything close to this nature.  That bad shit is gonna come from it.  He’s practically a complete stranger.  I kicked those thoughts under the proverbial rug.  Just fucking live!   Enjoy the moment of spontaneity.  Just fuck it and hopefully him as well.  HA!

I text Mr. Tuesday to let him know I was on my way.

ME:

I am en route…if you feel weird about me coming over tell me now…I’m a big girl…

HIM:

It’s fine…

Phew. 

HIM:

Close?

ME:

I’m approaching your street…

HIM:

Okay…I’ll warn the neighbourhood

ME:

Hahahahaha!!!

HIM:

Snipers…Where are you?!

ME:

Fuck you!!!

HIM:

Ha!

Count on Mr. Tuesday for being consistently charming.  His comical texts put me somewhat at ease.  It wasn’t until I stepped out of the cab and walked into his building I began to have a SERIOUS anxiety attack.  

As I rode the elevator up to his floor I began to feel extremely light headed and began to dry heave.  Fuck me.  Not now!!!  I hobbled out and leaned my forehead against the cool metal doorframe of the elevator.  I closed my eyes and fought back the need to vomit.  I took four big breaths...in and out...then took four more, wiped the sweat off my brows and upper lip, gulped down the bile, straightened my back and tried to look as composed as I could.  I turned the corner and made my way down the hallway.

Mr. Tuesday opened the door to his place when I was about halfway down the hall.  I felt my chest tighten just a little bit when I saw him.  He looked adorable all barefoot in his grey plaid pajama bottoms and fitted grey T-shirt, eyes bright with an impish smirk on his face. 

HOLY FUCK.   This is really happening.

I giggled out a “Hey…” As he stepped aside and let me in...

Beneficial Understanding

HIM:

You okay? 

ME:

Yes…of course…Why?

HIM:

Just checking up…

Okay so now I was a little more than curious as to why he would want to check-up on me.  I needed to speak with him.

ME:

Can I call you?

HIM:

Call me what?

ME:

Hahahaha…silly boy!

HIM:

Yes…But for just a bit…I’m going to go for a run…unless later…I’m easy…

ME:

Call me after…have a good run you lucky bastard with two legs…FYI…I already know that you’re easy…BAM…fuck you… :)

HIM:

Some say I have three...you go fuck yourself... :)

ME:

Well…We’ll see about that…

HIM:

Ha…Maybe you will…maybe you won’t…

ME:

My mouth is your loss then…okay fuck off and go for your run…call me later

HIM:

Ha…Touché…

Playful Mr. Tuesday got in touch with me.  This was our banter when we spoke on the phone the first time.  This is what enamoured me to him in the first place.  To say I was pleasantly surprised was an understatement.  Butterflies of all kinds were wreaking havoc in my belly and we were only texting. 

Damn him, that fucker.

I immediately text Holly and let her know that Mr. Tuesday got in touch with me.  I forward my text exchange with him to her.

HOLLY:

LMAO.  You two are cute.  I love it!

ME:

Was it too much?

HOLLY:

Nah.  Never too much.  He kept it going too.  You two are funny.  I like the friendship behind the potential for romance and sex.  It’s something more solid then sexting.  LOL!

ME:

Me too!  He’s so fucking charming.

HOLLY:

I like that he’s like…You OK?...I’m just checking.  LOL!  CUTE.

ME:

I’ll let you know how tonight’s conversation goes.  I know that he has a lunch date tomorrow which I am totally not bothered by.

HOLLY:

As you shouldn’t be.  You’re still trolling sites too—but for now Mr. Tuesday is a fun ‘side piece’ until or if it becomes more.  :)  You go girl!!!

Ahhhh…you can always count on your girlfriends to put things into perspective.  I was too embarrassed to admit to Holly that I was doing a happy dance of joy when I got that text back.  It was HELLA flattering for me that he even gave me a second thought at all!

Later that night we spoke briefly before he told me he was headed out for what I assumed was another date.  He assured me that it wasn’t and I assured him that I didn’t care what he did in his own time.  I told him to enjoy himself.  Our conversation lasted 5 minutes. 

A little over 90 minutes later he sent me a text letting me know he had a crappy night.  I asked why and then he called me.  We spoke that night until almost 2am.  Oh man did we ever laugh when were talking.  It made me enamoured to him.   Mr. Tuesday also asked why I never got in touch with him post date.  I told him I never expected him to get back to me considering he was a man-whore an all.  I explained that I wanted nothing serious. Same as him. ‘Just fun.’   In my mind I remembered my girlfriends telling me that good girls don’t chase.  That is the dude’s job.  I was also trying to protect myself from developing any sort of attachment to this man however talking to him was making that EXTREMELY difficult.  Mr. Tuesday was so easy going and we didn’t even have to talk about sex…until later in our conversation.

HIM:

I had a fun with you that night.

ME:

Me too.  I REALLY enjoyed myself.  You’re a very good kisser.  I kinda regret leaving early that night.

HIM:

Yeah.  I thought so too.  The night seemed unfinished…

ME:

Yeah, right?  I wouldn’t have slept with you BUT I’m sure I could have done more…with my mouth. 

BAM!  I opened the door now…

ME:

I went home very ahh…in need of relief.

{Blush.}

HIM:

Oh fuck.  I was so horny after you left.  I jerked off thinking about you.

Thus began our talk about all things that we prefer during sex.  I told him I prefer ‘giving’ then ‘receiving’.  He explained that one of his favourite things is to go down on a woman.  I know ladies that you think I’m mental because who doesn’t love a good burger munch but I honestly don’t get that much satisfaction from it.  I think that things changed when I had my clitoral piercing years ago—YUP - I did get my lady bits pierced and now only ‘I’ can take cake of business down in that nether region proper.   He suggested that I should let him try one day and to give him ‘the tap’ should I want him to stop.  I laughed my ass off at that.

Damn that Mr. Tuesday for being so bloody funny and charming.  Fucker.

We established that we should try “friends with benefits”. This was all new to me so why the fuck not?  I agreed.  I’m sure I would learn a thing or two from him, which I could possibly carry on to my next encounter.  I remember Holly telling me that I need at least three dicks in me then I could get serious.  I countered with five.  I know…very overly ambitious of me but a girl’s gotta dream, right?

I have no clue how the whole “friends with benefits” thing actually works but I was enjoying my time chirping with Mr. Tuesday.  I would let him take the lead on that.  I think that he is too charming NOT to have as a new friend, even if the sex never happens.  Everyone in my life who ever made me belly laugh is keepers in my books.  He should stick around regardless, even if only to hear about his ‘sexcapades’.

Like I mentioned earlier, we spoke until almost 2am and my panties were soaking wet by the time I hung up the phone.  I ended up having to take a L-O-N-G shower again post phone call.  God, I love my detachable shower head!!!!!

Mr. Tuesday and I texted on and off for another week.  Nothing overly flirtatious.  Just basic stuff;  “How’s it going?  How was your day?”  Then one night, nine days after our first date he called me just after 11:30pm…

Catch and Release

The previous night’s events felt like a dream.  It was kind of surreal to me that I could have such an amazing experience a mere forty-eight hours after an EXTREMELY shitty one. 

I went to bed that night a tad hot and bothered but I have a detachable showerhead so this bitch was well taken care of.  Let’s put it this way, I completely ran out of hot water.  I was in the shower for THAT long.  I’m pretty sure I could have written an erotic novel that would have made Christian Grey blush had I put pen to paper that night.  Nipping, kissing, sucking, blowing, moaning, panting, scratching…fuuuucck me.

I slept well.  Probably better then I have in a long damn time and I woke up in a totally amazing mood. I had the ‘day after sex’ face but with no sex.  Did my rounds of texting and calling my lady friends to give them the play-by-play of the night.  They were all impressed that he was the epitome of the perfect gentleman.  They were also ultra pleased I snagged a pretty sweet make-out sesh. 

Everyone asked me if I would hear from him again.  I confidently said, “No.”  Dude is a player.  Sure I liked him but there was no way in hell I had any intention of getting attached.  I was grateful for the whole experience that night and that was the most important thing for me.  I was totally content with the one single date.  I felt awesome at the end of it and had zero expectations.  No over-thinking, just living the moment for exactly what it was.

I had mentally prepared myself not to think about Mr. Tuesday again.  There was no point.  He was a man-whore and I was too new to this whole dating game thing.  That date was a total fluke anyways.  It was via the sheer curiosity of Leilani and Piper that the stars aligned for Mr. Tuesday to connect and meet.

I just allowed myself to bask in the afterglow and it was bloody awesome.  Like I said, I got a little confidence back thanks to Mr. Tuesday.

As predicted, I never heard from him the day after our date.  Perfectly fine.  I had stored him away in the proverbial box in my head, to only be brought out on those days when my self-loathing was at an all-time high.  I’m getting a little better at not hating myself so much, but I’m a constant work in progress when it comes to feeling ‘whole’. 

I’m not saying I need a man to reassure me of my worth but I have to admit nothing fuels the ego or gives one confidence like a man letting you know that you are pretty and desirable.  What woman doesn’t want a handsome stranger to sweep her off her feet - or in my case foot - for even a few hours??

I had pretty much shelved that proverbial box away in my head even though a small part of me wanted it left out just a teeny bit longer.  It didn’t help that my friends hounded me on why I wasn’t concerned about him getting in touch with me again.  I reminded them and especially myself that I didn’t care about him.  I cared about the experience, as I am sure Mr. Tuesday had the same mantra.  Yes, I admit I felt a little surge of connection being with him but I had to be a realist and kill that shit.  No sense in ‘catching feelings’ for someone I just met, particularly a worldly gentleman of his nature.  I’m just a distraction.  I had to make sure he was the same for me.

Two days later in the middle of the day Mr. Tuesday sent me a text…