Get up sex machine

I spend the majority of my life with conflicting thoughts. Who is hotter, the guy from Preacher or the guy from The Handmaid’s tale? Should I eat low-fat to save calories or eat full fat because it doesn’t contain the same chemicals? Who should I write about next? The guy with the baby dick or the guy that made me blush like a schoolgirl in his presence? I have decided to discuss the guy that gave me butterflies.

I’m not overly romantic. I currently believe that most people settle, because to be in a couple is what is expected. For the first few years it may be love but I don’t know if I believe in… forever. People change, you compromise yourself. The shit they did in the beginning was cute but then you grow to hate their little quirks and slowly get filled with resentment. Someone is often more in love than the other. Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t claim to have the answers. Anyway, what I do find extremely hot is longing. People caught up in the moment, trying not to give into their most basic primal urges. IT’S HOT. In the 2005 movie version of Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy helps Elizabeth Bennet into the carriage simply by offering his hand. As he walks away from her the next shot is of his hand, he stretches out his fingers, like his flesh had awoken, just by touching her hand.

We live in 2017 and I just spoke about my favourite scene being as small as two people touching hands. (Is something wrong with me?)

There are a few similar scenes in the Handmaid’s Tale. June and Nick next to each other facing forward while their fingers graze each other, followed by separate shots of their eyes closed while they react to the moment. Throughout the first season there are so many moments of want and need for each other, the brooding glances, without any words. I get sucked into it, the butterflies from stolen looks. Being restricted from your basic desires. The need to reach out and explore someone else, feeling the heat of each other. It is something that we often take for granted when and if we are in a relationship for a long time, because we tend to not take the time to carefully explore each other. Soooo, I think that I’m attracted to feelings of lust, rather than love.

The following story is my version of it. The giddiness I felt from being in the room with a someone I had just met and the weeks that followed.

Over Easter this year I worked…worked every day in a kitchen at a bar over the comedy festival. It’s my favourite time of year. I love to laugh (that is such a redundant statement) but stand up is my thing. I try to get to as many shows as possible over the month but that wasn’t possible with all of the work that I was doing. But luckily the bar that I worked out ran free comedy, I thought we knew the majority of the amateur comedians that were performing at the pub but we met a few newbies over the time. It was the third weekend and the first Saturday night for the second group, Clem and I were having a great time, but I was a bit homesick and missing my niece and nephew. I decided to make them cool gifts, to let them know that I was thinking of them. Some of the regulars were there as well as some of the lingering comedians that were playing pool. One dude that was playing pool with them was hot, but I wasn’t too phased, I was actually more excited about the gifts that I was making the kids. We weren’t paying much attention to the comedians and one of our mates brought an extremely drunk dude in, who we hadn’t met before. He ended up dropping the gift and it smashed…absolutely everywhere. I was furious and so upset. He was such a dickkkkkk. Not too long later we kicked everyone out because I was over it and just wanted to Christian Bale (leave.)

The next day we rock in and a guy thanked Clem for letting them stay behind while they drank and played pool. She told me his name, it didn’t ring any bells. It seemed that there were plenty of comedians that we did not know. His name was Tom. His eyes looked right through me, he was fucking gorgeous. He was extremely polite to us and hilarious. He would intimidate James Brown and have me in tears of laughter. I instantly had eggplant emoji’s in my eyes. This guy is stunning, funny and thoughtful. His voice was low and raspy, which was helping  the desires that were playing on a loop in my head. After some Facebook research, it turned out that he had previously lived with people that I had grown up with, which was so weird.  I looked forward to my shifts and to seeing him, while trying to play it down.

I would walk out of the kitchen into the bar and there he was. Our eyes would meet before my head would drop down, the colour rushing straight to my cheeks to betray me. I would carry on with what I had to do before returning to my sanctuary that the kitchen provided. Depending on where I was, I was sometimes greeted with a kiss on the cheek or when he was leaving. On a Saturday night, he was wasted and I was extremely forward, (not face to face of course, but sneaky Facebook Messenger). He left with some dudes to go to another pub and watch the premier league, Clem and I were meant to follow after we had shut the pub. I followed them out and on the corner, he came back and kissed me before leaving. I pinched myself, did that really happen? Writing about it 4 months later, I am second guessing myself all over again. I couldn’t wait to get the next pub. But it didn’t happen…

The next day was the last night of the festival…I am not the most competitive person, but when a girl walked in and was so obviously keen on Tom, I started seeing red. The Kill Bill music was in my head. Who was this girl? I was getting ridiculously jelly while watching them play pool. Luckily I had other distractions, like the fact that we had now run out of a beer. Yep, a pub with an event on without beer. Nothing on tap and the fridge was emptying very quickly. So now there were three of us in the running. The other chick was an extremely dominant comedian, that scared the shit out of me, I get the feeling that she was banging a different comedian and was up for a threesome. There was the three of us with the elusive Tom in our sites. Hmm this was going to be tricky.

The guy that ran the festival was being a bit of a dick to Tom, so he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to finish his show and leave. I liquored him up for his final show and the night seemed to go really quickly. I was hoping that his mood would change and he would end up staying.

When he was leaving he followed me behind the bar, entering the other room. He was saying goodbye while I was begging him to stay. He went to kiss me on the cheek, but I moved and his lips found mine. There was time for a few stolen kisses, before stopping as we weren’t the only ones in the room. My smile reached my eyes…I wanted more. The kisses although totally satisfying, weren’t enough. I needed him and I needed him badly. However, I was pretty psyched that I was the one that ended up kissing him. I only realised later when we were chatting online that the other chick had taken him home last week when they were drunk. I was mortified. I felt so stupid. He downplayed it, but I would soon find out that it didn’t really matter. As I didn’t realise that this would be the last time that I would see him.

He left…

The man with the deep brown eyes, moved back interstate to his family. He packed his things and said goodbye to his friends. We didn’t have time to catch up before he left. Why would we? We had only known each other for just over a week. Now I sometimes send him, highly inappropriate shit by message but he is so sweet, he just laughs it off… like I am sure he will do with this blog post. So now I am left with memories of a few stolen kisses and sideways glances while all I wanted him to do was bend me over the pool table.

Those fucking eyes. *sigh*

 

 

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Just another night of losing bile and brain cells…

Last year, I slept with a dude that I went to high school with. He fed me by candlelight, told me that I had always been the one and then we made love on rose petals and we both cried when we came. Ewwww how boring is that?!? I nearly put myself to sleep. That wasn’t how the story went at all :/ I got a message from this dude I went to high school with, saying that we should catch up. We caught up for coffee in a hospital, which I guess is a kind of weird place to catch up,  spoke about people we knew and about old times. It was really lovely, he’s a great guy. Fast forward to an evening of hanging out, he slept over, zero funny business, lots of funny movies and cheap laughs. It had been such a long time since we had connected on any level and it was nice to know that we still liked each other as the adults that we had become (even though, let’s be real…I’m hardly an adult.)

The next catch up session things got a bit loose when there was a bottle of scotch brought over, a lot of music doco’s…yada yada yada another bottle down, I am not pleased to admit how we acquired the other bottle. But I drove us to get it, and then McDonalds…At the lights we pulled up next to a cop car and I thought my life was over, as me not driving would be like a Greek tragedy. But we made it home safely, the only accident we were involved in was my upholstery getting ruined by the Coke he spilt, but that turned out not to be a thang in the state that we were in. There was lots of reminiscing, maybe some dancing by the stereo. I thought I was feeling fine and I was alarmed that it was 7am, we had had 2 bottles and I was still coherent…nek minnit its 10.30am and I wake up alone in the bath…uh oh. I get out of the cold bath, and see vomit all over the floor of my room. FUUUUCCKKK. I feel like I’m going to die and I have no idea what happened to him. Or me. Or between us…I don’t feel violated at all, because I probably jumped him and forced my drunken self on his ass if anything did happen, I mean. Dammit! I’m too old for this shit. Moments from high school are rushing back and I haven’t changed since then. Something that no 28-year-old wants to admit to themself, while sitting on the cold floor, next to the toilet bowl. All I know is, I spewed everywhere, I’m naked, he is gone, his phone is off, I’m going to die from alcohol poisoning and shame and I have to back it up tonight with another party. This isn’t a “hehe I got so white girl wasted and blacked out hehe” ditzy lie. I seriously can’t remember those three hours and it never came back to me. I lost significant brain cells. He doesn’t return my calls for hours, I try to clean up the vomit…that smell (vomits in mouth) the most unfortunate part of the story is that I have to meet my parents in IKEA because I have missed our lunch date. There is no hot water, which I am really confused about, because that has never happened before and it is the worst time for it to happen.

I message my friend to pick me up. I use her shower and she accompanies me to the Shopping Centre. Now I don’t love IKEA on a normal day, so today I feel completing boxed in and will either vomit or shit myself all over everyone on a Sunday, that’s not a great feeling as I lie to my mum saying that it isn’t self-inflicted and I think I have caught a bug. It was the longest two hours of my life and I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling sorry for myself at my friend’s house. I was also worrying about going to this party that I was meant to attend. The thought of alcohol was still making me spew and the self hate was at its worst. Thank God for my friend, she dressed me up, did my hair and make up and I started to perk up. We arrived at the party and I started on the water, being around people and retelling last night’s tale was making me feel more human as we all wondered what had happened during the black out hours.

So I didn’t hear from him for a while, but he is all class. He told me not to worry about it and that everything was all good. I was still mortified as he did not tell me what had happened. He told people that we had caught up and was the perfect gentleman…except for my best friend. While they were at a party, my best friend sent me a pic of the two of them. I shuddered as I knew what their conversation would have been about. So three months later some of the pieces were put together which were, that I had indeed thrown up all over him while we were having sex. Yep, thrown up on him. Yep, that happened. Yep, dirty drunken pisswreck vomited while fucking a dude that I use to make out with in high school. If there was a time to die from embarrassment, it would be now…however, at our next meeting I was just as pissed hehe don’t hate the player…hate the game. I am sure you are not surprised to hear that we did not catch up after that…he may or may not have fled the country.

A cautionary fairy tale…

Once upon a time, there were three fair maidens that ruled the land. Wait, wait, wait. Once upon a time, there were three hilarious, intelligent, sexy females that ruled the streets of Melbourne. In a bizarre coincidence, these three ladies all dated or lusted after 3 dudes that worked in different shoe stores, which is actually really weird.

The first maiden we will call Messarella. Messarella was trying to distract herself from the throws of life and decided to go on Tinder to build up her self esteem and date random dudes. This was never a problem and she usually had 4 on the go at once. So one day she swiped right to a basketball player that came from Adelaide. They had a mutual friend, so that provided her with some comfort. He was a manager at Footlocker. He would text her day and night and he was a bit of a sexual deviant. When they met up however, he looked strange and complained so much. As Messarealla wanted to keep herself occupied from the 3 other gentlemen she decided to keep him around for a while. It was the perfect situation, he would only stay for 2 hours and she was so sick of him by that time, she would count down the minutes after he had made her scream to him leaving. They tried to go out on a date once, but she felt like she was the mother of a 4 year old. Alas, the glass slipper didn’t fit and he probably went back to jerking off in the back room of the store or the public toilets at the shopping centre he worked at. Definitely not Prince Charming. More like Prince Deviant.

Barbarella, was the second maiden. She also found herself occupying her time on Tinder and she and Messarella sent endless screenshots back and forth. The ladies found Tinder to be somewhat of an interesting sport.  It was there that Barbarealla swiped right to a tortured artist who worked at Converse. She was intrigued by this scrub, who never had an money and lived with his sister who had a husband and a child. She would try to help him sort his life out, by listening to his problems, making lists of real estate inspections for him to go to, just by generally being amazing to him, while he was scrubbing it up and being utterly depressed. They had a few fun nights, getting messy but the cloud of misery that surrounded this guy, was not far away.  He ended up meeting a girl with a stupid name, but who looked exactly like Barbarella and ended things with her. Of course, the new girl he met wasn’t nearly as fun or easy as Barb is and she played mind games with him and totally dumped his ass, so of course he came back to Barbarella with his tale between his legs. However, Barbarella was smarter than this and smashed the glass slipper, and tried to stab him with it.

The third maiden was Hiprella. Unlike the other two ladies, she had met had met Mr. Adidas in the flesh. He would touch her up once a week at his school. Ok, maybe I should clarify that. She would go to the Tafe where Adidas was completing a massage course, she would blush at the thought of his strong hands. Whenever, Hiprella went shopping with another maiden, the other maiden would look in as they walked past the store to see if he was working. These two were teenagers again. If he was working, she would go and buy shoes from him and he was so generous to give her his discount. It was kind of hot. Hiprella would talk to him on facebook and they actually became quite close. Hiprella was getting quite keen on Adidas and decided to tell him that she wanted to hook up with him. He was keen and there was some interesting texts that went back and forth. But after a while, he stopped replying to her texts. He deleted his Facebook account and went MIA. So there was some recon work that had to be done to find out what the hell was this guy playing at, because it is weird to fall off the face of the planet, especially at this time of the interweb and foremost they were friends. Hiprella ended up finding him, but never got an explanation as to why he suddenly shut everyone out of his world. We suspect that he got a girlfriend, but that doesn’t excuse him for bad manners. So Hiprella bought those beautiful pink runners with terrific support and they still have more than enough tread on the bottom to walk on him when they run into each other in the shopping centre.

Therefore, lets teach our daughters to love shoes like Carrie does in Sex and the City. Not to fantasise about men who might help her put them on, because three out of three bad encounters with dudes that work in retail shoe shops should be a cautionary tale. Next story, we will go all Sleeping Beauty on it and talk about the time that I got slipped a date rape drug and woke up with a homeless man. Just kidding, I slipped him the roofie 😉