thirty-two

I recently slept with a man named Nate that I met at a bar in town.  I say man because he's 32-years old; ten years older than me and my oldest yet.  Unfortunately there was nothing monumental that happened, but I will note a few awkward and embarrassing interactions.

I'm almost embarrassed to tell you this after admitting that I slept with him, but Nate had some serious gas problems.  I was really drunk so at first I thought I was just hearing things, but after the 2nd fart, I started to worry.   It was the most bizarre thing; we were sitting in my kitchen and he would just let a loud one rip in the middle of his sentences and act as though it didn't happen.  No change of facial expression, no hint of blushing or embarrassment.  I didn't really know what to do.  Is this normal middle-aged-man behavior?  I didn't say anything and luckily it stopped before we headed upstairs, but still: what the fuck?

Nate also did what every other older guy does in bed; brag.  They act as though I am an innocent little girl and they're there to teach me how its done.  Like Nate, I threw myself at you and demanded that you come home with me roughly 15 minutes before last-call.  Do you really think this is my first rodeo?  Sentences like, "Yeah this is how its supposed to be done," and "I'll show you the difference between a college boy and a man," were coming out of his mouth left and right.  And if we're being honest, sex with him was no better than sex with my 17-year-old high school boyfriend.  But I'm not that big of a bitch and pretended like I enjoyed every minute of it.

The last things I should note are actually more embarrassing for me than they are for Nate.  I figured readers should know that I'm not exactly a smooth dominatrix in bed....This is the first time this has happened to me, but I'm pretty sure Nate faked it.  He was having trouble getting hard the whole evening and seemed more interested in pleasuring me, making no movement towards having sex.  I kind of begged him and he agreed, but getting him hard was a lot of work and I could tell he was having trouble.  Time totally distorts itself when I'm drunk, but I'm pretty sure Nate gave it the obligatory 5 minutes, let out a less than convincing moan, and quickly flushed the condom down the toilet.  So that was awkward.  I'm not that worried about it because he's kind of creepy and texted me within a half-hour of leaving my house, but still - that's the first time any guy has faked it with me.  Not that I give a shit; it was enjoyable for me and I'm fairly certain I'll never see him again.

Lastly, (this is SO mortifying) I woke up the next morning and had a vague recollection of saying, "I'm yours," in the middle of hooking up.  Like ARE YOU KIDDING ME, KATIE?  You just met this man, you don't remember his last name, he has bad shoes and an apparent digestive problem, and you tell him that you're his??  NO you are not his, nor do you want to be!  Drunk me is apparently a total romantic in bed...?  The phrase "I'm yours" have been haunting me all week, and I contemplate offing myself every time I think about it.  Not to mention that I told my roommates and they keep yelling across the house, "Hey Katie, I'm yours."  As embarrassing as this blog is for my previous sex partners, I have my fair share of mortifying sexual experiences myself. 

candyman

        During the summer between my junior and senior years in college, I met a guy I will refer to as Thor.  This is because he greatly resembled Chris Hemsworth's character in the Thor movie series; tall, handsome, and muscular with long hair and piercing blue eyes.  He lived behind the boutique that I worked at, and I saw him moving in one day while I was parking my car.  I was in one of my ballsy moods and flirted with him a little.  Turns out, he was opening a candy store with his brother on the nearby college campus.  Later that night as I was walking back to my car, I left my number in his mailbox, telling him to let me know if he ever needed anyone to show him around the new neighborhood.
       Well, I got a text later that night and we arranged to hang out.  I stopped by after work the next day, where he gave me a tour of his new house.  Like let's be real here, Thor; I have absolutely no interest in your tiny house or your old, smelly brown labrador that I'm pretending to enjoy petting.  After the obligatory praises for the new homeowner and forced remarks about how pleasant his decaying dog was, we finally ended up in his bedroom.  His bookshelf is directly across from his bed, so we sat there as he explained which of the books were his favorite.  It was painfully clear that Thor LOVED the sound of his own voice and believed himself to be the most important person on the planet.  Again, I just sat there, pretending to be interested until there was finally a pause in his rambling.  "Can I do something I've been wanting to do since I saw you yesterday?" I asked.  Before he could open his mouth, I climbed on top of him and started making out with him.
      A guy like that has had a lot of practice with women.  He is not only beautiful to look at, but comes across as fascinating, complicated, and mysterious (until you realize he's really just in love with himself).  So I wasn't at all surprised when sex with him ended up being some of the best sex I'd ever had.  And the best part about the whole situation was that I wasn't looking for anything, and Thor was already in a relationship with his ego, so it never amounted to more than really great sex.
     The one thing Thor and I did have in common was our interest in adventurous, exhibitionist sex.  Sex in a place where we were risking getting caught made it even more enjoyable.  So it wasn't long before I demanded to be fucked in the candy shop.  It was still under construction and not set to open for a few months, but it was still pretty awesome.  I can happily say that I have been bent over the counter that thousands of college kids are now purchasing their after-school candy off of.