Give me the first taste...let it begin...

Well, uhm....last night escalated quickly. In a good way!

Oh boy....wow....where to start? I'm feeling so very, very flustered.

My track record of sitting down with a potential suitor and having a "talk" has not been well. I'm pretty sure at this point in the game I'm like 0 and 15 or something? I have "the talk", boy decides I'm not really worth the effort or that he does not see eye-to-eye with me....and then we split. I never hear from him and bridges are burned. Or maybe he lingers for a bit and then things...well...fizzle out. I often thought I was being punished for my brutal honesty and for wanting to set things straight in the beginning. Isn't honesty the best policy?

As I mentioned in the previous entry, Chris and I had "the talk" on Tuesday night about going further in our relationship and adding sex to the mix. He made it abundantly clear he was not ready. Plain and simple. Wednesday night rolls around and he texts me, true to his word, that he wants to chat for a bit. Luck would have it that my mom had just gone out of town to celebrate her birthday with my aunt. I was all alone on a weeknight. Chris asks if he can call me up instead. We're on the phone, maybe like 7 minutes before it all starts coming out. He's ready. He knows I'm alone. He wants to come over. Coincidence? Or opportunistic? Whatever. I don't care. Just get over here already!

Suddenly the minutes feel like hours. I know the drive from Santa Ana to East LA is only about 30 minutes. My heart is racing as I pace across my room. My blood is singing in my ears. Oh God! Did I shave? YES! Does my hair look good in a messy ponytail? YES! Are these panties cute enough? WHO THE FUCK CARES? He's gonna rip them off in a few minutes. My phone rings and startles me out of my insanity. He's here!!

Chris shows up just as a police helicopter flies over our heads. He raises an eyebrow, "Is my car safe here?" I smirk and shrug, "Welcome to East LA" as I lean in for a kiss. He cups my chin and smiles as our lips crush together. Oh it's on.

I feel like his little ghetto sherpa. He's miles away from the safety and tranquility of the Orange County suburbs. In the darkness of my living room, I can see his eyes are wide open with a hint of uneasiness. He looks around, taking inventory of his surroundings. I shut the front door behind me and look up at him, "Come here" I breathe and he stoops a little lower for a kiss. And then another, and then another. We're making out, standing up in the middle of my living room. I'm on my tippy-toes, my neck straining to reach him. I steady myself by placing my hands on his shoulders. He grabs my ass and pulls me even closer. He kisses brutally and I like it. Every kiss is hard, savage and his stubble feels like sandpaper. I love it. I want to feel my face burn tomorrow. I pull away suddenly and his eyes are even more rounded, a little wild, as he looks at me quizzically. I stammer: "Should we...uh...go in there?" I point to my bedroom. "Whatever you want. You tell me" he says out of breath. I nod and amble towards my room. Chris follows me but not before depositing his keys, wallet and glasses on my dining room table.

In my room, I leave the ceiling fan running. This August summertime heat has been unbearable, but in light of recent events, my nervousness has made my blood run cold. Chris and I resume our near-starvation kissing. Neither one of us want to come up for air. As we're kissing, I start to move backwards so that eventually the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. My lips, chin and cheeks burn from all the kissing. His beard is coming in rough. I bet he didn't have time to shave before dashing over here. It's fine. I'm in heaven. Chris has backed me up against the bed and I don't miss a beat. Without breaking our kiss, I slide down onto the bed and lead him down on top of me. He follows my cue and lays next to me on the bed, kissing me even more savagely. Before things get too out of hand, I stop to turn over my giant Morrissey pillow: "Don't look Morrissey!" I yelp in mock concern and flip the pillow over face down. Chris scoffs: "Oh, I bet Morrissey would love to see my dick."

 Hands start to move everywhere. He sucks my tits, I suck his cock. Oh, he's ready. Rock hard.

The actual sex though was...uhm....a little frustrating. After we take care of me and I come violently with the aid of his quick and deft fingers, we move onto the main event. I could tell Chris was extremely nervous. The stress of the week (family, work and school) all came tumbling down on him and he struggled to put on a condom. He kept losing his erection and going soft as he tried to (finally) fuck me. The look on his face was disheartening. He was visibly upset with himself. He eventually just gave up and proceeded to jack off over me. It all happened so fast, I didn't even have time to react. He comes all over his hand and I pass him a few tissues from the Kleenex box on the nightstand. Maybe we waited too long? Maybe this added even more pressure on him to "perform" well? He excuses himself to the restroom then puts his boxer briefs back on. He relegates himself to the edge of the bed and sits up. His jaw is clenched and he has a bit of a far-away look on his face. I sit up, too and scoot over to the edge of the bed. I straddle him from behind and let my legs dangle over the edge of the bed. My breasts press up against his back as I lay my head on his right shoulder and hug him. He's not too happy with himself. Chris shakes his head, "That just ruins the whole night for me. I'm sorry." I tell him not to apologize and comfort him as best as I can but he's not hearing it. Instead of letting him beat himself over the whole thing, I change the subject and we talk about other things. It doesn't take long before he's laughing again. I kiss his shoulder and run my fingers all across his back, tracing little patterns. My fingers eventually rest on his tattoo. I lift my head slightly off his shoulder to get a better look at it. He has the word: "CREDO" in Old English lettering across the upper part of his right arm. It means "I believe" in Latin. I smile to myself. Very cute. I lay my head back on his shoulder and enjoy the sound of him talking as I press my left ear against him. His voice is deep. I love being this close to him.

We sit and talk for another hour or so before we realize it's almost 2 am. Both of us have work in the morning. We start to get dressed and he warns me to throw out the trash in the bathroom before my mom gets home: "Well, not unless you want her to see a used condom sitting on-top of a bunch of jizz-filled Kleenex tissue wads." Duly noted. While on the subject, he fishes out the foil wrapper of the Magnum condom from the pile of clothes on the floor. He holds up an unused Magnum he had in his pocket to compare the size of one of the Trojans I had laid on the night-stand just in case. "See, your condoms wouldn't have fit me" he remarks with a shit-ton of bravado. I nod knowing full well that he does have a pretty thick and stout cock. "Oh man, that sucks" I lament as I notice the difference in circumference and diameter, "Really wish you could've put a hurtin' on me tonight." Chris nods grimly and puts his shorts back on. I slip into my pajama shorts, "Oh well!" I shrug, "Next time, right?" I'm able to elicit a slight smile from Chris. Awwww yeahhhh!!! There definitely HAS to be a next time.

We walk quietly back to his car, doing our best not to make a peep. My neighbors are sound asleep and I don't want to disturb them in the least. No need to raise any suspicion. Unfortunately, one of the cats I regularly feed shows up on my door step meowing that he wants a midnight snack. Chris looks down and notices the gray striped kitty, "Hey you have a cat!" he whispers loudly. I nod, "Yeah that's Ringo....because he has rings on his tail." Ringo looks imploringly at me and ignores Chris. Not tonight, you little rascal.

We approach Chris's car and he exclaims in mock relief that his car is still safe and sound. "Oh wonderful! The glass isn't shattered on any of my windows. I get to keep my stereo!" he teases as he looks over at me to catch my reaction. I shake my head and fail miserably at not cracking a smile. Oh shut up, it's not that bad :)

We say goodnight and he promises to text me as soon as he gets home safe. A few well-placed kisses and I don't want him to leave. He pulls me in for a hug and I press myself against his chest. His plain, white cotton T-shirt feels so soft. "This wouldn't be a good time to disappear on me..." I say softly. He says he understands. Don't just have sex with me and leave, my heart pounds. Please. "Goodnight" I whisper and kiss him one last time. "Goodnight" he answers back and slips into the driver seat. I walk back to my house feeling so very alone.

So now what? Where does this leave things? I'm trying my best not to fall into the quandary of trying to define what just happened and what that makes us. I've had the worst of luck trying to pin a label on a relationship. Right now, I'm about to start getting a lot on MY plate what with back-to-back vacation trips and my mom's car needing thousand dollar repairs (radiator's fried). Suddenly, I'm going to be the busy one. Chris might have gone for the buzzer beater by squeezing in a sexual encounter, but my game-plan remains as it was. There are two knuckleheads in New York City that I have to deal with. I think I fancy the idea of making them Eskimo brothers. I haven't decided yet.

Though I appreciate Chris being responsive and seeing me before the imaginary deadline of my summer vacation, I still feel like there's nothing really tying us together. There's no promise we're going to become boyfriend and girlfriend. I sometimes wonder if he really wants me around. He shows promise and I really want to nurture what we've got going on but I also feel like I'm crowding his life. I want him to sort out his life and push all this undue pressure off himself. I think once he clears some space he'll feel more relaxed and the sex will be fantastic. But more importantly, Chris will be able to dedicate more time to seeing me and getting to know me.

I should tell him this before I leave. Hmmm. Having "the talk" has worked so far with him...I better get on it. New York City is only 5 days away.