Once, twice, three times a lady…

I like to think that life is all about balance. For example tonight is for me to be sitting in bed with a top knot, in a singlet and undies, listening to Simon & Garfunkle and maybe some sexy Mac Miller beats, either completing old Samurai Sudoku’s that I have saved or reading, with my kitty kat snuggled up beside me. It’s quiet and perfect for me to savour the silence of the night with my loud thoughts.

Flashback to last week when I had said that to my friend that he had to find a job, our midweek rendezvous were taking a toll on me, getting far too wasted, far too often. But those nights are special and make me appreciate these nights of silence and reflection.

Late last year, I hooked up with a dude that was previously married. I knew him when he was married, I knew his wife. He was separated and we always enjoyed each other’s company when we would run into each other. I was surprised when I saw him on Tinder. I knew that he wasn’t stupid enough to be married and on there, so things must have ended. When we matched he was straight to it, they had recently separated and things were hard but they were all okay and it was for the best. I was hesitant to say the least but he was charming and funny. More to the point when you already know someone that makes things so much easier.

We spoke over a couple of weeks. He would call me and we would chat, but the majority of the time was texts which he declared that he wasn’t any good at. One night he got me on the phone and said that we was going to come and get me. We would have a few drinks and catch up. I wasn’t sure about this and declined. The next night he worked his magic and he was coming to get me. I spent hours getting ready but the pressure was off as we already knew each other and had some sort of attraction. I was nervous going to their married house. I cringe at the thought. I was actually shitting myself. I wasn’t doing anything wrong but I felt weird about it. I had voiced my concerns and he had shut them down, one by one. This guy was good.

We got in the groove with each other. He was extremely polite and such an amazing host. What was he going to cook me for dinner? Cheese board, amazing wine, intense eye contact as we discussed our lives in detail. If you have previously read this blog before, you will know that my nerves, plus alcohol isn’t my friend. I was extremely excited because we were hitting it off so well and the conversation was electric.Other than the fact there were photos everywhere of her family. I tried to ignore it, but it was mentally noted, for the conversation that would happen with my friend later. He mentioned something about partying, so next thing I knew we were raking up lines at 10.30pm on a Tuesday night. The night was getting loose and I was all for it. He passionately kissed me, between each of us rubbing the residue into our gums. It was hot. He was hot and full of passion. We went from the couch to the family room floor to finally a bedroom. I insisted that we go into the spare room because I couldn’t face, the previous marital bed. By now the drugs and wine were working their magic and I was feeling my sexy self. The sex was incredible. He was confident, funny, seductive and all of these traits were present in the bedroom. After the extreme sports were performed, I wasn’t feeling so good and you guessed it…vomited errywhere. All over the doona cover, all over the walls. He put me in the shower and then put my clothes in the wash, while he got cleaning. He was lovely about it. He said “Of course it would happen and he had often felt like that.” Total gentleman, could not fault this dude. He consoled me over and over again. It was fine. I was dying of embarrassment in the shower but was still pissed and railed so I thought that I could actually pull this off. As I now had no clothes, I walked around in a mink blanket, which I thought was pretty sexy. Turns out the pic that I had sent my girlfriend after I had explained the incident was less sexy than I had first thought, I looked like a hillbilly. I called her, explaining the eyes that I felt on me from the wife’s family, they were following me. So the next few hours consisted of, cleaning, washing, more lines and surprisingly more sex. We couldn’t get enough of each other, even though I think I could still smell vomit in my hair, which while gross, it turns out that I can still complete the task at hand, many times may I add.

I left at 5am. He wanted me to stay but I couldn’t face peak hour in an Uber. This guy was my personal hero, as he still was going to go to work after our scattered night. I silently died in the Uber, I wanted my shower, my bed and my cat not to judge me, for not being able to handle my liquor, yet again.

No-Men-Bro update

Soooooo if we remember back to me not being able to last No-Men-Bro, which there was disappointment all round, except when I was climaxing. Anyway that isn’t the point. I just wanted to let my loyal readers know that my dry spell resulting from heartbreak lasted from New Year’s Day to Good Friday. But now we are back in the game…So I nearly lasted without the D for four whole months!!!!Maybe I am now destined to only have sex on public holidays though :p

Story about dating a fucked up baker is coming tomorrow…

I’m officially a bad person

You would think I would be out of stories by now. That is not the case…at all. I think it was last year, I met this guy on good ol’ Tinder. He was half Mauritian, half Aussie. Nice chocolate skin. Majority of pics were good. He had buff arms, looked like he dressed well, one pic was of chop sticks as seal tusks (okay, I can look past that, as I love a good face in the hole.) Anyway, I liked what I saw. He would write me essays, so that is what my girlfriends and I called him.

Essay decided to take me out for breakfast at a trendy Cafe on a weekday. I was running late and he got there early so he could get the perfect seat next to the window. I was so late, therefore flustered and off my A game. But, he was lovely. He was wearing a nice shirt and had gone to a lot of effort. He was fascinating. He had just moved back from New York after spending a year there for work, he was living with his parents because he was waiting for the tenants in his place to move out, was planning on buying a holiday house, had also spent time in Antarctica, liked watching the footy and rock climbing. Basically he was kicking the shit out of life, even told me about meeting Ryan Gosling and him being the nicest guy, even though he had no idea who he was. As we were talking, there was something off about him, but I couldn’t place it. He excused himself and went to the bathroom but I didn’t realise that he had paid for breakfast on the way back. Nice touch, I thought. I thought the date would be over but took me to another cafe for more coffee and cake and then we went for a walk. I knew I wasn’t that keen, but I thought, fuck it, give this guy a chance. He held my hand when we walked (gross) that sounds so mean, but I barely know you. What about if I saw someone I knew? What would I say? Anyway, we held hands. He took me to a park and we made out. He was fully into it, I was racking my brain as to what was bothering me about him. It was like the middle of the day on a Monday, that’s how inappropriate I feel this make out session was. Totally not my scene, but I obliged*. He walked me back to my shitty car and we called it a day.

Okay, so we are half way through this story. I know I am completely fucked up. Girls would kill for this put together dude. Nice, stable, easy going, up for anything, smart, etc. Think of the Sex and the City Episode, where Carrie says that she was trying a guy on to see if he fit, not really your taste but you will give it a go. A nice, vanilla life. Mos def not my cup of tea. 

So we kept on speaking and he wanted to surprise me at home one morning by bringing me pastries for breakfast. This guy was good. I had to see if this was going to go anywhere even though I clearly wasn’t feeling it. I had also realised why I wasn’t into it. Some of his facial expressions reminded me of a guy I went to school with. I know what you are thinking, no big deal, now you are just nit picking. Actual the guy that he reminded me of was autistic, (not that there is anything wrong with that.) But I could not be with a guy that reminded me of a guy I went all through school with and had a lot of really strange memories of. I can’t blame this guy for that, so I said that he could come over for breakfast. We ended up having more than breakfast, it was a three course breakfast. He was hooked. The breakfast wasn’t bad at all. Wasn’t boring like Al-Bran and he was hoping that I was satisfied like at a Continental Breakfast at a hotel. But I could not get the similarity out of my head. So thanks for the pastries but I guess I am getting back with my ex (my favourite excuse to stop seeing anyone.) He suggested that we could continue seeing each other without my ‘boyfriend’ knowing. I said I didn’t think so. A few months later when I went back on Tinder, I received more messages asking if I was single and wanted to hook up. I felt like he thought I was Mia Khalifa, everybody’s favourite porn star or maybe I just wish that.

*I feel like ‘I obliged’ would be the name of my autobiography. Not just in relation to sex but in regards to my whole life.

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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.

chewin’ and spewin’

As the days are getting warmer, people are starting to get semi nude and it’s acceptable to walk the streets. Kids are sitting their final exams. I look back and think of this time fondly, I mean I don’t wish I was back there. God, no. The of the spring air smells of youth and it takes me back to hanging out and having fun. I’m currently outside and looking up the beautiful night sky, it’s amazing and there is not a sound. I’m looking at the beautiful double storey rendered mansion and grateful of where I am. Ouch! I hit the mosquito on my arm and it springs me back to the present. I am looking up at a house, but it isn’t mine, I’m house sitting – looking after a couple of kids while their parents are away. And I have been kind of kicked out of the house as one of the teenagers that I am looking after has her boyfriend over, so I don’t want to be a creep and sit on the couch with them. The bites are swelling up all over my body,  so I decide to interrupt their “movie” viewing. I was 16 not that long ago… that thought makes me extremely nervous as I walk to the door making extra loud noises so they know that I am approaching. While I retreat in another room until I have to drive the boy home, I realise that when I was 16, that was pretty much when the dating disasters began.

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“Hmmm, I don’t know if I should go out tonight, I’m feeling a bit better, but still pretty gross and I am semi grounded” I say to Maddy East, my best mate.

“Fuck it, we are going. I’ll bring clothes in and we can mix it up.”

“Sweet, you’re right, otherwise I’ll just hate myself at home, best to get amongst the madness.”

Maddy and I walk into the house party and I feel awkward. Being 16, you always feel awkward – actually I still feel incredibly awkward most  of the time. I hate walking in anywhere. People sharply turning their heads to look at who has entered and then quickly turn back, to continue their conversation. This was no different as I imagined that we walked through the party gates and everyone stopped and stared like we were in a teen movie and the ugly duckling had finally shocked everyone with her make over. I am sure that is in my overactive mind and we walked in and the party carried on around us. We quickly found the host of the party. She was incredibly interesting, she was bubbly and extremely good to me for about six months, while we had a class together, but the friendship did not last long.

“Oh Bridie, you came!!!” She was beaming and gave me a tight hug.

“Of course, I came” Smiling and then turning to Maddy to roll my eyes.

“So what can I get you to drink?”

“Ohhhhh I’m still on medication, so I don’t think I will drink tonight”

“But it’s an open bar?”

“Nuff said, I’ll have something with vodka thanks”

Maddy and I walked back outside. The first drink went down without a hitch. Then the second. While the liquor was flowing and I was beginning to feel much more relaxed. Maddy and I would go from group to group talking rubbish to people that we would see all day at school. The party was pretty good. People were having fun and because it was in the small town that I grew up in, it was accessible for people to get to, rather than out of town like usual. People came and went. We started doing shots of tequila. On my third shot, I threw up everywhere. Maddy rushed me to the toilet and I continued to throw up. I wasn’t feeling too bad though. She gave me some gum and I felt much better. Maybe the more intelligent girl at the beginning of that night, should not have had a drink when she was on medication. We went back outside and the guy that I had been hooking up with on and off for years was there (that went on for nearly a decade.) I started to get nervous, when he looked over at me and smiled. After a while, he came over to me.

“Looking good tonight Winters.” He said

I looked down and went bright red. Wait, no that didn’t happen. I wish that happened.

This is what really happened.

“Looking good tonight Winters” He said.

“Let’s go.” He smiled at me and we started to leave the party.

We reached the gate to her house and met some people there to chat. They looked at us and we excused ourselves and continued on going for a walk. We walked up a few more houses and then started to make out. This continued until people were yelling out to us, so we began our journey to find some privacy. We reached an opening that had some grass and trees. We continued making out as teenagers do, oh wait we were teenagers. I thought that I was sobering up after all of that vomiting. Hmmm I wonder if he knows that I was sick moments before this journey . We had never really gone very far even though we had got together on a number of different occasions. Things went much further that night. Not all the way, but further. About an hour later we were getting up to go back to the party.

“Where are my undies?” I asked him.

He continued looking around the area that we were in, but with no luck.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that you have lost my undies. ” I said between more making out.

“You think that’s bad, at least you don’t have chewing gum stuck down there.”

“I’m sorry, what?” We stopped kissing. I notice that I was no longer chewing the gum and am pretty sure that I didn’t swallow it. Dammit. Mortified. Oh my. This will be an interesting story that goes around school on Monday at 9am. So not only had I lost my underwear. I had the sinking feeling that someone would find them  the next morning, when they pulled up for church, because that is where I realised that we were when we started walking back to the party, in the church car park.

When we got back to the party, I left him to find Maddy. I told her the story while we were in the toilet together.

“So now, I have to stay here and be all commando, because I can’t go home this wasted, Mum will kill me.”

Maddy takes off her underwear and hands them to me, I put them on inside out and back the front. This is what true friendship is all about and this is Maddy to the core, a true friend. Always getting me out of the little blunders that I used to get myself into. Maddy went home and I stayed the night at the party. At some stage, I got another guy to go and help me look for my underwear but unfortunately we couldn’t find anything. There were a few people that stayed at the party that night and we drove to a bigger town the next day to get McDonalds to relieve those nasty hangovers.

I later found out that he had to go home and cut the chewing gum out of that area.  I wish I could say that that was the only embarrassing story that I have with that certain gentleman but that would be a lie. The next story takes place years later and is just as embarrassing… but that will have to wait for another post.

I am thankful though, that when we see each other at the pub on Christmas Eve in that little town,  he gives me a wink and a smile and I do what I wish I had all of those years ago, I blush and look down at my drink.

First Impressions

My phone beeped as I applied the foundation to my face. My face lit up like the phone had when I read his name. After only 10 days of instant messaging and hundreds of texts back and forth, I felt like I had known him for years. I poured another glass of red wine while I decided on what to wear for the sexy picture that I planned on sending him before heading out for the night with friends.

“Hello?” The mixture of nerves and I was tipsy made the electricity shoot through me when I finally heard his voice.  His voice was comforting and  it reassured me that tonight was a good idea, even though in my non-intoxicated mind. I would never dare to go to a stranger’s house. His sexy, deep voice washed over me and I was more convinced that we should meet tonight. If it was a disaster, we could leave it in the last few days of the year and move on without much fuss. Before I left my friends for the night, we had one last shot of tequila to settle my nerves before the long cab ride. The texts kept coming while I flirted with the cab driver to get a cheaper fare. I was giving him a play by play, while the cabby and I introduced ourselves and started talking about the current immigration policy, to try and distract me from what I was actually doing. I confided in him when we arrived at the address that he had given me, “Listen Sharif, I have never met this bloke before,” I cringed “Do you think that he will kill me?” Sharif did not squash my fears by the shocked look on his face. “Bridie, do you really think this is a good idea?” I faked the biggest smile that I could “I’m sure it will be fine, he seems lovely, what’s the worst that can happen?” as I flipped my hair confidently. I held my hands together to stop them shaking. “I don’t know if you should do this.” I turned around to see a face beside the window, looking in at me. It was him – there is no backing out now. “Bye Sharif!” He opened the door and kissed me on the cheek. He had said earlier that he would pay half of my $80 fare, but when he opened his wallet all that was in it was a $20 note and a betting slip, he handed it to me. Who is this guy. I laughed and he said “Hey, you can still win off that”. I laughed more and blushed as we looked at each other for the first few seconds. I was shaking. We reached his house. “Do you want something to drink?” Hmmmm I was starting to feel pretty drunk. “Sure, why not” I smiled, hoping I didn’t look like a Cheshire cat, but enough to cover up that I am scared that he is going to drug me and cut me up into tiny pieces.  We sat next to each other on the couch, my heart racing. I started taking in my surroundings, ok he looks normal enough, even better looking than in his photos, which never happens. His house looks clean, which is good for a guy that lives by himself, I’m not getting murderer vibes, I don’t think I am going to end up… a lampshade. Another drink, should surely be a good idea. I hadn’t eaten anything and had already started  mixing drinks, with red wine, tequila and now bourbon. I took a large sip and continued talking to overcome my nerves. Reason had already begun its descent as the night was beginning to get foggier as I got louder. “I’m really glad that we met tonight.” I yelled to him. I got up and touched his trophies to create more conversation. He reclined the broken couch for us and then reached for my can and passed it to me. Our bodies turned to face each other, however there was no touching. It did not take us long to feel more relaxed as we familiarized ourselves with each other, relying on stories that we had relayed through text in the days leading up to this meeting. As he was pouring another drink, the various liquor seemed to hit me all at once as I fumbled over to him in the kitchen. He got closer to me and I felt him slide past.

That was all I needed in the state that I was in, I stared up at him and put my arms around him pushing forward for that first kiss. I forced myself on him. I had waited long enough, which in reality was half an hour. I was that guy. I wanted to kiss him and I wasn’t interested in waiting for him to make the first move.  “This is happening”, I grabbed his hand and lead him to the first bedroom  I found. “Umm, wrong room”, he said laughing at me and the urgency I was bestowing on us. We made out for a while and things got more heated. In my mind, I looked incredibly sexy, this could have been a scene taken out of a romance novel, soft, sensual kisses. However, my makeup had ran, my hair was knotted and I was a drunken mess, with no inhibitions and the kisses were over the top with me basically eating him.

We went back to the lounge room to watch a movie. We snuggled up together on the couch, for only knowing each other in person for a few hours, he made me feel extremely comfortable but I still had butterflies the entire time, even through my drunk demeanour.

          Oh no, I thought as I tried to casually make my way to the bathroom without causing too much fuss. When I got there, I waited until I heard the door’s lock click before I projectile vomited all over the toilet. Even in my drunken state I was absolutely mortified. What am I going to do? Maybe I can just pretend it didn’t happen if I can clean it up before he gets suspicious…The thoughts had not completely formed before he was at the door asking if I was ok. “Umm yeah I’m fine, everything is fine, I’ll be out in a minute.  Everything is fine, don’t worry.” More rambling occurred and even though I thought I had convinced him, he was more than aware of what was going on. I closed the laundry door and had taken off the toilet seat to wash it in the laundry basin and put the mat in the washing machine. He was still knocking on the door but I was trying my best to keep him out. After I had cleaned everything. I stood back and marvelled at my work like a housewife on a spray and wipe commercial. Yet, there was still bits of red vomit everywhere and it smelt like I had drank the whole bar. This was not a good first impression.  He finally got in the laundry. “Are you sure you’re ok?” he looked worried. “Seriously, I’m fine, nothing happened” I slur and give him a look to suggest that he is crazy and overreacting. He mirrored that look and realised there was no point in arguing “Ok, as long as you are alright, how about we clean you up and get a bucket.” He put a towel around me and put me to bed.

I opened my eyes very carefully – the room was spinning at an incredible pace and I looked over to him snoring beside me. Ohhh my…poor guy, he is going to never want to see me again after this display. As I pulled myself up,  his bedside table provided a stable base to lean on and I realised that he had put my phone and earrings beside me. What a lovely guy. I smiled at him, taking a mental snapshot of the moment and fighting off the feeling of added nausea and embarrassment as to what was going to happen when he woke up. I nearly tripped over the bucket that was at my feet. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no! I had a flashback of an event with the bucket that would burn in my brain forever. I would never deep throat a banana while looking at my friend for giggles again. In the flashback I gag and nearly vomit all over him. I’m sure it will ‘go down’  in history for him as the worst sexual encounter that he has been forced to be part of.

I tiptoe to the bathroom and try not to vomit at the smell, as I realise that I hadn’t cleaned anything and still can’t as I dry reach. I was still trying to put the pieces of the night together, while I tried not to die and cause myself more embarrassment. I looked like death and realised that I didn’t have any makeup to put on and could barely lift my hand to my face to apply it anyway. I went back into his room and made so much noise as I tried gracefully to get back into bed and pretend that I had not left. He woke, “How are you feeling?” he smiled at me, whilst rubbing the sleep from out of his eyes. “Eeeeerrrrrrggggghhhh, not great at all” He laughed and said, “I’ll take you to your car then.”

We got in the car. Between concentrating on not vomiting all over him and the car, and also trying to rectify that I was not in fact, complete trash, I decided to remain silent. It was the longest car trip ever. When we finally reached the car, I thanked him and apologised for the 2939485849th time. He kissed me on the cheek and we said goodbye.

I sat in the car, my head in my hands, mortified. I sent one last text, assuming that he wouldn’t respond. Within seconds I got a reply…I definitely didn’t give this guy enough credit. I mustered a smile and swallowed more vomit.

*That was nearly a year ago. We have had many more funny adventures over the last year and still text everyday. He is absolutely gorgeous. Unfortunately things didn’t work out – I wonder where I went wrong, when I had made such a great first impression :-/ I am incredibly thankful that I did get a best mate out of it though.