Thursday, April 27, 2006
Got lemons? Make lemonade! And let me tell you, it was damn good lemonade. Once we landed on the other side of the smell test, the evening was nothing short of fun. He was attentive and aware. In other words, he was just as eager to please as he was to be pleased and, more importantly, he didn’t need a map and a compass to locate my rhymes-with-fit. With small pauses to sip some water and adjust positioning, we went at it for around two hours before finally collapsing onto one another.
“You know, you don’t have to stay. I mean. If you want to just get up and go, I won’t stop you.”
We had now assumed my most favorite post-coital position. He was lying naked on his back with his head slightly propped against a pillow. One arm was bent and tucked behind his head. I was lying naked on my side with my head and a hand resting on his chest. I loosely draped my leg over his. A sheet was pulled up over part of us.
“No. I like this too. I’ll stay for a little bit.”
As much as I love the safety and warmth found in the comfort of a man’s chest and his arm pulling me into it, I sort of wanted him to just get his things together and go. I had a really important business meeting in the morning. I also didn’t want to have to attempt a conversation with Fling. We had nothing in common and neither of us was interested in pursuing something beyond oh-baby-right-there-don’t-stop. In other words, conversation wasn’t high on my to-do list.
Luckily he remained silent. Around twenty minutes later, he slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom where the remnants of safe sex were discreetly discarded. He washed up, dressed up and checked to make sure he wasn’t leaving any evidence behind. I stayed in bed. Before departing, he returned to my bedroom, pulled the sheet up, tucked it in around me, kissed me on the forehead and told me to sleep well. For a moment I feared he might steal something on the way out. My Prada bag was sitting by the front door with my wallet in plain view and my jewelry worn earlier in the day was on the table next to my keys. Paranoia must have lasted only a few moments because I remained awake only long enough to hear the door close behind him.
I awoke in the morning well rested with an imprint of sheet wrinkles on my face and legs. I showered and dressed, though was a little tired from the previous night’s activities. As I descended the steps of the stairwell leading to my car parked out back, I started to notice stiff muscles I didn’t know I even had and they weren’t stiff from me being on my treadmill. Within a few minutes of arriving at the office, I phoned one of the two people with whom I always share everything. Leslie and Allison are two confidantes who know my deepest darkest secrets and never make me concerned I’ve shared them.
“Oh my God, you little trampy ho-bag! Spill the beans so your married sister can live vicariously through you!”
“It started off rocky but ended grand.”
“Rocky? As in ‘yo, Adrienne’ running through South Philly?”
“Fuck no! Do you really think I would invite a guy like that into my bed?”
For the next ten minutes, I relayed the ups (orgasms, yes plural) and downs (sniff a whiff amongst other things – yes, other things). Leslie contributed to the conversation with comments like “shut up” and “no he dih-ent.” Eventually it was time to get back to work. Before hanging up the phone, my older and wiser sister offered a piece of advice.
“Listen. Remember those killer stilettos I passed off to you? Helmut Lang? Black leather?”
“Totally. They’re fucking hot! Whenever I’m wearing them and look down and see them, even I want to fuck myself.”
“Classy, Paige. But seriously. Promise me the next time he comes over you wear them.”
“Oh my god, you’re dressing me up for my trysts???? This is so disturbing.”
“And don’t take them off because if he has one of those going-to-the-dark-side moments, you might need a sharp object to spear him with.”
“Point taken, Ms. Worry Wart.”
“And one more thing, my little hussy. I expect full details the next time you tap this one. Seriously. This is damn good entertainment.”