I shouldn't be so bitter. In fact, I know that weddings cause me to keep believing in the dream of having that special someone....but ugly, jealous thoughts always start to sink in. That foul train of thought also helps to introduce panicked notions that maybe I'm doing something wrong...but aren't I open enough? Aren't I adventurous enough? Don't I always strive to be positive when taking leaps of the heart? What's the matter? Why can't I find a prince charming in this city full of toads?
Ah, it's because I live in the wrong state....obviously.
Somehow I have tapped into this weird pipeline of boys that can never be mine. I have found the direct route to cute boy paradise and it runs from California straight to Wisconsin.
Yet again I had another romantic comedy moment...or series of moments that transpired throughout the day. Let me paint the setting for you:
There I am just having witnessed my old college buddy Christine marry her dream-boat (currently my favorite word) fiancé Eric. The ceremony was brief (yay!) and beautiful. The day was cloudy and a bit chilly. Once all the wedding guests shuffled into the reception hall for cocktails, the line for liquor grew tenfold. I am not one to shy away from an open bar, so I suffered through because I knew a Cap Codder would be in my near future. The bartender gave me a healthy dose of vodka and at that exact moment it was just me and my drink....mmmm...we were the only two people in the world! I can almost taste the vodka on my tongue when the guy next to me raises an eyebrow and says, "That's quite the bit of vodka in your drink." My flirting skills come on automatically once I've assessed his looks and demeanor within that split nanosecond. *Hmmm, cute boy. Sounds educated. Dressed nicely. Clearly he's one of the groomsmen. DO IT* I turn and face him with my drink gripped in my hand like a weapon, "Well, I'm quite the person. See ya!" I don't think he even knew what hit him; he laughs like a goof and says "Okay see ya around." I smile to myself as I breeze past him on heels. I mention the chance encounter to my best friend Caroline and she speculates the young man might be seeing a girl.
Ow. Okay, so I was a bit disappointed but strangely at peace with knowing I might have hit on a taken boy. Ah well! That didn't stop me from giggling with the bridesmaids, sharing some gossip, sucking back free drinks, taking hilarious pictures and dancing like a fool.
It was much to my surprise to see the cute boy from the bar sidle up to my group of girls and start dancing with us. At first it looked like he wanted to dance with all of us, but soon he was dancing with just me. I counted that as a personal victory and suddenly had to come to terms with the thought I might be helping someone commit adultery. Thankfully Caroline snagged a bit of key information: cute boy was single. Cute boy's name was Andrew. And cute boy seemed to be into me. I like this.
So again I found myself caught in the midst of a Wisconsin boy’s attention. Why are they so nice? Why do they always have to live so far from me?!? Ughhh. So much like I played it with Jonathan many months ago in Milwaukee, so would be Andrew's fate. Time to be as cool as a cucumber.
We danced to nearly every song that night. We took breaks here and there, but every time we charged the dance floor, there he was making the right amount of eye contact from his table and following my lead. At one point we sat at my table and made some brief introductory chit-chat. He seemed a little distracted and I thought for sure this would turn into a bust. Last call for alcohol sounded off and Andrew disappeared in the sea of thirsty 26 year olds. I was back on the dance floor loving my life and hating my shoes. My feet hurt!! But every song needed me! :)
Andrew caught up to me again and we finished the last dance song of the night. The last two were slow songs. I waited for him to retreat but he smiled and put his arm around my waist: "Come here" he said and we swayed to "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds Five. We talked as we danced from side to side. He seemed a little tipsy but otherwise very funny and smart. I did my best to keep the conversation interesting with just a hint of coy flirtation, my known specialty. Every daring little comment provoked a smile from Andrew and he'd squeeze my waist. The married couple danced right by us and I couldn't help but stare. Ahhhh, to be in love! I looked up at Andrew and smiled when he said California winters were way better than Wisconsin winters. This feeling right here is good, too I thought to myself. I can get used to this.
The wedding broke up around 10 pm and all of us girls began questioning what the game plane would be. Would there be an after party? It was agreed we'd all converge back at the hotel. I didn't know if I wanted to stay too long. The 1.5 hour drive back to Whittier would be dark and scary. Also my feet ached, even with the flats I was now sporting and there was no guarantee Andrew would even be there. Whatever. I was convinced anyway and was delighted to see familiar faces from the wedding in each of the hotel rooms we visited. We even ran into Andrew near the elevator as he was heading back down to the bar. We promised to meet him downstairs but never made it. We got caught up in wine drinking and fun conversation. Again, I played it cool and laughed it off whenever anyone asked if I was gonna "score" with Andrew. I don't like to jinx myself. Suddenly there's a knock at the door and who should show up but the man himself, armed with a glass full of Fat Tire ale. Now the games can truly begin.
Ah, how I love the thrill of getting it on. I stood facing Andrew and did my best not to teeter over in exhaustion. As soon as it was available, I snagged a spot next to him on one of the hotel beds. We sat side by side and laughed it up with the group, trading little pieces of gossip and stories about their mutual friends. I soon discovered Andrew was a 24 year old, third year law student. WHOA. This could possibly be the youngest and most educated dude I would ever bone. I had to do it. Even for the sheer possibility I could be granted that level of intelligence through osmosis. HAHAH! But even all our combined "smarts" and his postgraduate education couldn't provide a sound plan for sex. As I felt Andrew wrap his arm around my waist again and squeeze me at pleasing intervals, I knew the pressure was on. It was established that there was no room for us in the bridesmaid rooms and there was definitely no room with the groomsmen as it was soon known one of the guys was already sound asleep. Also, neither one of us had a condom. Nope. My chances of snagging an almost-lawyer were soon disappearing.
But then, aha! a break-through. I knew my Amex credit card was wiped cleaned and my sick days would soon be paid out at work. I had more than enough funds to get a room for the night. I also not-so-secretly texted Caroline and was able to secure a condom. Andrew also not-so-suavely grabbed a few from this guy Keith. Our plan was looking bright! We sat around with the group and chatted some more until it was time for bed. I was a bundle of nerves, so excited and a little afraid. The butterflies in my stomach felt like bats. Tonight had to be epic.
We walked down to the front desk, never pausing in our conversation. The lady at the front desk was an angel sent from heaven; she got us a non-smoking room with a king-sized bed and at a discount because we were with the wedding party. I felt a little bit like a sugar mama, whipping out my credit card like it was no big thing and signing off on a $140 hotel bill. Oh well! The things we do for good sex.
We get up to our room and I am very eager to start stripping away each piece of jewelry and kicking off my flats. Andrew follows suit and begins loosening his shirt and removing his shoes. We both climb on the big bed, still not breaking conversation. We talk about the wedding, the weather, friends and of course, each other. He tells me he’s a big Red Wings hockey fan and he’s impressed I know a lot about the sport since I am a fervent Kings fan. Unfortunately, I don’t really follow NFL football but that doesn’t stop him from talking about the Packers. We lie down and face each other. It feels like ages since I’ve been like this with a guy, just getting to know each other. I love that feeling of finding connections and making someone laugh. All hopes of seeing him again are dashed when I find out he’s leaving the next day (or rather, later that morning) on an 11 am flight back to Madison, Wisconsin. He has to go back to the cold, back to the snow and me back to reality. I resolve to make the most of his trip and am determined to give Andrew Briggs the best vacation of his life. I forget what we’re talking about or who said what, but there’s that slight awkward pause in our conversation where we both just know. I know I’m smiling as I lean over and feel him kiss me. And then it all begins: kissing like crazy with the taste of alcohol on our lips, hands everywhere, fingers unbuttoning dress shirts and suddenly I’m out of my dress. He’s at the foot of the bed dropping his pants and pulling his undershirt off. I find it ironic that things get even less awkward once we’re both practically naked. The feverish and reckless kissing goes on for a wonderfully long time and he buries his face in my boobs. When he comes up for air, I run the tip of my tongue all the way down the curve of his ear and I hear him groan in delight. I kiss his neck and run my left hand all the way down to the waistband of his boxer briefs. I ask him how he’s feeling as my fingertips hover over the crotch of his underwear. He laughs softly and says he feels great. I can already feel the hardening bulge of his erection. What a familiar feeling this is. The tingle of excitement shoots up my spine and I know there’s no turning back. I tell him he’s wearing far too much clothing and he instantly pulls off his black boxer briefs. My life would be easier if all boys would be this obedient. He lies back down and I waste no time working him with my mouth until he’s groaning over and over. He keeps his eyes tightly shut as I move my lips and tongue all the way down the length of his cock. Andrew makes about the cutest noises I’ve ever heard from a guy during a blow job. I decide to raise the stakes a little higher and a bit kinkier. I give him a backwards glance and tell him he’s more than welcome to give me a spanking as I suck him off. It’s hilarious how enthusiastic guys get when I tell them that! Sure enough he responds to my request with a few hard, cracking spanks on my ass. He hits pretty hard! I think about how sore my bottom is going to feel later as I feel another volley of stinging slaps. I shrug and find the sure fire way to make him stop: I deep throat the hell out of his dick. It was music to my ears to hear him gasp and cry out in surprise as I took him all the way down my throat. My gag reflex was acting up a bit since I had eaten so much at the wedding and I did embarrassingly burp at one point, which I know he both heard and felt. Gah! But in typical guy fashion he asked if everything was okay and was very sweet about it, saying it’s quite alright after I apologize for it. I wave him off, tell him I’m good to go and continue on. Once I felt he had received a sufficient level of fun, I got on my back and gave my jaw a much needed rest. Andrew leans over and kisses me in a pleasing manner of appreciation. He tries getting me off with his fingers but he was a bit uncoordinated and though I try showing him exactly what spot down there would make me scream like a porn star, he keeps brushing past it. I’m a bit displeased knowing I’m only a mere minutes away from orgasm, but I make the most of it. I decide his inconsistent caresses are just an inadvertent way of getting me sexually frustrated and even more eager to come. I sob every time he lingers too quickly on my clit. “There we go” he whispers in my ear which drives me crazy in a good way. God, I really want to fuck. I beg him to just do me now and he springs for the condom on the nightstand.
The actual sex was just a bit more maddening. He kept losing his erection and slipping out from inside me. There went our first wasted condom. I do my absolute very best to encourage him and soothe his bruised ego. I kiss him and offer to help as best I can. We try a second time (this time from behind) to get it on and though he can manage a few well-placed thrusts, he keeps going soft. OH WHISKEY DICK, I scream in my head as Andrew disposes of a second condom. “Yeah, I think I just had way too much to drink” he confesses as I go back to working on his dick. The taste of latex isn’t too bad and we’re able to get him rock hard again. He says he needs just a minute to get ready. It took a combination of a few things: him sucking on my nipples, jerking himself off and kissing me like a mad man. He whispers close to my ear, “God I want to fuck you so bad. It’s gonna be so hard and it’s gonna feel so good” and I just about die from excitement. That wonderful warmth seems to cover my entire body and I tell him I certainly hope so. I tell him I don’t mind skipping sex and just giving him fodder for his spank bank but he shakes his head and with a chuckle says, “Yes! But I’m greedy and want more!” Finally, he slips on the “third-times-a-charm” condom and I feel an extreme difference. I have to stifle my own scream as he thrusts mercilessly into me, all the while smiling to himself murmuring, “That’s it right here.” He hits that familiar spot so well, it actually hurts! Ahhhh, it’s worth the pain to see him on top of me, his face knotted and red. I feel the strength in his arms as he holds himself up to thrust harder and harder. I can’t keep quiet as he repeatedly fucks me, crying out and begging for more. He collapses on top of me, unable to hold himself up any longer and buries his face in my neck but never stops thrusting deep inside of me. I feel dizzy, hot, my mind is utter mush and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d finish. But just as I start to feel the rush of an incoming orgasm, Andrew asks if I can get on top. There are no words as I violently push him onto his back and ride his cock like my life depends on it. I look down at his face as I buck my hips, both of us moaning. And there it is. I see Andrew’s come face and it’s actually not that bad. He looks red, his brow knotted in concentration and his mouth kind of open, like he’s silently screaming or gasping for air. Sound finally comes out and he’s groaning in relief. “Did you come!?!” I ask excitedly as the first wave hits me. He nods quickly and that’s really all I need. I let my body take over and sigh loudly, “Fuck! I’m coming, too!!” and feel it envelop me. I involuntary feel myself contract on his cock and ask if he can feel that. He says yes and practically collapse on him. I roll off, all sweaty and frazzled as he sits up and pulls the condom off. I can’t stop saying, “Oh God. Oh fuck” and Andrew makes agreement noises at me. We fall back into bed and start with the always amazing post-coital talk. We cuddle under the sheets and he stops to fasten his mouth on my breasts again. He says, “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a bit of a boob guy.” I laugh and tell him it’s a good thing for me that he is. He also confesses that he has a thing for busty Latinas, which I very much appreciate. I reply that I coincidentally have a soft spot for cute, intelligent white guys. He grins and says it’s great I think he’s cute. We talk for a little while longer before we glance at the clock and decide that we should get some sleep. He says he’ll leave and go back to his room but I tell him he doesn’t have to. I kind of don’t want him to leave and I think he feels the same way.
It’s almost 2 am and he switches off the light; he motions for me to come closer and it feels weird to sleep against a guy like this. I place my head right under his neck and partly on his shoulder with my left arm draped across his chest. I am clearly not used to it and I whisper in the dark to him that he can tell me at anytime if I’m too heavy or if his arm falls asleep. He says not to worry and shepherds me in with his left arm. At first I’m too panicked but as I feel his chest rise and fall, I lull myself to sleep and will my brain to shut off. I noticed he’s just laying there on his back with just his undies on and no sheets covering him. I ask if he’s cold at all, because I’ve already got the warm bed sheets up to my chest. He says he’s fine, the perks of being a Wisconsinite. I tell him all Californians are thin-blooded and that I’d be freezing. We doze nicely for a few minutes before he slips out of bed around 2:30, apologizing that he has an early shuttle to the airport to catch. I don’t try to argue but sleepily watch him get dressed. He thanks me for making this an amazing trip and kisses me repeatedly as he tries to button his dress shirt back up. I tell him he’s very welcome and thank him as well for making it an unforgettable wedding. More kissing, followed by a joke about him being glad I came to the wedding and very glad I also “came” too. I flash him my boobs by pulling away the covers, just to be silly which makes him laugh and kisses me one last time. I roll over as he heads for the door. “Thank you so much!” he calls out one last time and I answer back partly muffled by my deliciously soft pillow, “No problem! Thanks to you, too!” I hear the door click and settle in for a beautiful sleep.
One night stands are rough for me, especially since I keep having them with these (seemingly) perfect guys. Ambition makes me so horny. I hate that I live in a city, in a huge fucking metropolis, where I have to beg for attention. Nobody locally here gives a shit about me and I’m fighting this uphill battle to retain the only boy who ever made me the center of his world. Ughhh. Where are all the Andrews here in Whittier? I just keep attracting the right boys but at the wrong time or wrong place.
Maybe I need to move to Wisconsin. Maybe I need to go whore myself off at the UCLA or USC School of law. But it’s not the same. Need I remind you of the continuing debacle that is called Edgar? Yeah, I don’t think so.
(SIGH) – So here I am, back in the confines of reality and with a new Facebook friend to admire from a distance. Well, I guess it’s better to have boned and lost than never to have boned at all.
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