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.