Monday, December 24, 2012

You're so fine and you're mine/Make me strong, yes you make me bold

I just realized when I first started this blog, it was supposed to be about retail experiences, and it's somehow become a life of Shiny kind of thing. And that's ok. I've learned so much about myself in the past two years, and I've also changed, so so very much as well. I've decided that this guy shall no longer be referred to as Lab Rat or Sith Lord, but nor am I ready to call him by his actual name on here. Not yet. Henceforth, I shall use the same code name as I do amongst my trusted colleagues, Dixie and Strawberry, who have my back and give me advice and are able to keep shooshed about it unless it's the three of us. We call him Leonard.

It's all so shameful, so horrible. Or it should be. I am simply still amazed that I don't feel guilt or shame about what I've done, and it's delicious. Yet again I recall the church mouse that I used to be, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt she would never have done these things, would have been uncomfortable beyond belief to be in the same bed as a man she wasn't married to. She definitely would have stopped the hand going down her pants, and not just because mother nature was visiting and she wanted to spare both herself and the guy horrible embarrassment. If that wasn't enough, she sure as hell would have run away, horrified, and driven straight home the minute his pants came unzipped and he put her hand on him.

And she would not have gone back again.

Thursday night, it was late, I was in the checkout line with Dix, she'd finished her Christmas shopping and I grabbed a few things. The line was long, I was bored. So like most brain-dead folks nowadays, out came the smartphone and I started bugging people. Well, one person in particular. And he wanted me to come over because "I need it right now." Just like I had hoped he would. Again, it was late. And I had to be back at work by nine in the morning, and he wouldn't be far behind me. I knew if I went over there, it would be a most ungodly hour before I left,  and then that wonderful moment of realization hit me . . . "Frankly I don't give a shit. My life. I want him and I'm going." Being paranoid, I was worried that I hadn't showered in a few hours, so when I pulled up to the complex, I found myself frantically digging in the console for napkins and wiping my face, shiny after a day of waiting on the masses. Got one half done and turned the other cheek to hear a loud tap and find him standing with his face right in my window with bug eyes and his signature grin. Given this enthusiastic and slightly creepy welcome, along with the horny messages, I had fully expected to be chivied up the stairs and pounced on. Imagine my pleasant surprise and confusion when instead, he just pulled me close against him with his arms around me, our fingers laced together and his head nestled on mine, and said "I wish you were staying all night." And then proceeded to talk about his day. THAT is a first, do you have any idea how hard it is to get this guy to talk about himself? And without being asked? Physical things are nice, but this was really nice. That's not to say the other thing was forgotten. Hardly. And that is where I'm both shocked at and proud of myself. For as much as I've fantasized and pined about clothes strewn all over the bedroom floor, I never actually thought I'd TAKE them off for anyone. Yet I hardly gave it a second thought and off they came, and sadly I was still surprised when he didn't throw me off in disgust and call it a night. But I don't say anything like that to him anymore, because it only kills the mood and frustrates both of us, him moreso, and I've forced myself to accept that I'm not disgusting and that he really does want  . . . this.  Enough to where, well, that thing he's been wanting to do with his tongue for all these months? That. Reciprocating gave me a slight case of stage fright, which he found amusing, and it was a little awkward, but not at all horrible, he didn't squeal in pain, and wanted seconds, so I must have done something right. Although originally he wanted the full shebang instead of 'seconds', but damn .  .  . I'm just terrified of the condom breaking, even if can openly admit I want it all, too. Honestly besides the obvious (pregnancy), the only thing that scares me now is the possibility I'll bleed everywhere.

But this whole dirty little secret, well, while I'd rather it not be a secret, is just what I've been needing and wanting for so long now. Someone to touch, to hold, to do shamelessly filthy things to. And when he actually does open that pretty mouth of his and speak, well, we have a lot in common. We laugh a lot. And the silence is not uncomfortable. Lying there with limbs entangled . . . it just feels like something I've done a million times before, and I always hate to leave. When I do, he walks me out and kisses me goodnight a time or three. I could be setting myself up for more heartbreak and disaster, but I don't care, I want to live, to take chances, because otherwise I'll never know or learn from my mistakes. But I've seen him. I've seen the way he used to walk past the pharmacy, we'd catch each other's eyes and he'd keep on walking, but with a grin for miles. Now we just stare right at each other and the 'teehee' feeling has been replaced with 'I know what you're thinking about me.' The way he just lies there and stares into my eyes forever before leaning over to nuzzle my face or kiss my head.

 . . . this isn't normal behavior for FWB/fuck buddies, right? He's also getting friendlier at work, using coherent, complete sentences and everything, although it's probably not obvious to anyone what we've done to each other behind closed doors. We're both off work Thursday.

I sincerely hope and pray that one or both of us exhibits a little control over ourselves, or that the condom doesn't break . . .

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A new bounce in my step . . .

Nothing is committed, nothing is exclusive. Yet. But at long last, someone I've snuck glances and coy smiles at, thinking "Damn, that's a nice looking person, seems nice, too. I really wish I knew them better . . . " feels the same way. Mind, I had to pry it out of him via messaging, but I didn't want another months to years long game of beating around the bush, wondering. While it turns out that Lab Rat the Perverted Sith Lord is randy 24/7, he wants more. I must have gotten to his place around 3 in the afternoon on Sunday.

It was close to midnight before I left.

He's almost painfully awkward, and is just as painfully aware of it, but that stage only lasts for so long. We did talk and watch movies. He's fairly reclusive, and mostly stays inside with his XBox and his movies, the latter of which we share a lot of favorites. Not to mention he also owns every season of House, M.D. and even has a cane. "I can be your Dr. House," he says. A set of Sith Robes hung on the closet door, with lightsabers and swords propped against the walls. I can't believe I was ever squicked about age. Well, yes I can, but I can safely say I'm over it, as the pros definitely outweigh the cons. Pizza rolls and kool aid? Yeah, not so much into that. But he's a total nerd, and I mean that in the BEST possible way. He outgeeks me by a long shot, but he'll never outdrink me, turns out he doesn't even like alcohol or the feeling it causes. This too is a good thing, not only is he unlikely to become a raging alcoholic, but this also means I don't have to get him lit before he'll let me touch him. Yeah, about that . . .  I knew he would at least try to kiss me. What I didn't know is how far I'd let everything go and how oddly natural it felt. Granted, not everything happened, but much more than I had planned on and things happened that probably should not on a first date. All I can say is, I'm glad I'd seen those movies before, because otherwise I'd still be wondering how Bruce Wayne escaped or when Thor got his hammer back. I'm not sure whether it's sweet or creepy that he was incredibly affectionate and snuggly when we were actually paying attention to the television and not shoving, biting, and pulling each other's hair. But the wave of shame has yet to come, and two days later, I am still smiling. Do I want this to eventually become exclusive? Yes. But regardless of what happens or doesn't, I don't regret anything. It's infinitely better, in my opinion, to say "Oh well" than "But what if . . . " or "I wonder .  .  ."

Sometimes I'm afraid I'll wake up and realize it didn't happen.I actually do wake up and wonder if it was real. But then I walk to the bathroom, bleary-eyed, and as I  flick the light on, I wince at the marks on my neck, and I smile.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

See you blowin' me a kiss/It doesn't take a scientist/To understand what's goin' on, baby

A few posts back, I mentioned someone whom shall still be referred to as Lab Rat. He continues his flattery, albeit in a somewhat awkward and unmistakably forward manner. He kind of reminds me of the guys from The Big Bang Theory, to be honest, which really isn't necessarily a bad thing. We exchanged messages for most of Thursday and towards the end of the night, I'm positive that I was turning shades of red henceforth unknown to man in reaction to the things he was saying, which were growing increasingly pornographic in nature. He also wanted me to come over after work because he'd bought TDKR and had no one to watch it with, I felt kind of bad for saying no.Yet for all of that, he's incredibly quiet when I see him in person - eye contact will force both of us into awkward, probably stupid looking grins or he'll walk up and poke me, when he speaks it's very low. He's so weird and awkward, and yet as far as geeks go, we have so much in common. Halloween at my place of work is always interesting, I love seeing what everyone puts on, even if it's something small just to be out of dress code for the day and get away with it. I showed up all in black, with fishnets, fangs, and way too much makeup on my eyes. He'd traded in his khakis and blue for the robes and boots of a Sith Lord. Call me crazy, but that's hot. Even then, he chose to stand there stiffly and talk to Karla as if I weren't even there. But he's always sure to pop up online or send me a text and then get all sadface-y when I sign off or say I'm going to bed.

Truth be told, I really wanted to go over when he asked me Thursday night, and not just because I'm dying to see The Dark Knight Rises again. I panicked and just said I couldn't because I had work the next day, too. Main reason being that he's so quick to start with talk of licking and boobs and other activities involving his tongue. Could be he's just a little odd and that's his way of saying he likes me, or that could be ALL he wants, which I'm not quite ready for. I mean it's hugely flattering that he's having these thoughts about me at all, don't get me wrong. I even asked if he sends all his female friends filthy messages and he said no, but I'm still not sure yet. Keeping with the honesty thing, I'm starting to be a little crazy for this skinny little geek and I find myself oddly terrified. He's been burned this year already, so he could just be a horny little freak wanting to sow his oats, or there's the possibility . . . I just don't know. Maybe I'm afraid he'll do what Kenny's done to me the past two years, and frankly I'm very tired of being Kenny's fool. I sent him this sugary, heartfelt little message on the night before Thanksgiving and got NO reply. The next day he sent me a message asking if the pharmacy was open, I said no and asked why, thinking something must be wrong, and all I got was "Ok, thanks." As it turns out, his stupid daughter and her doubly stupid boyfriend were doing something stupid on a motorcycle and wound up in the emergency room. Nothing big except for drama. He could have at least told me what was going on. He also inquired early on in the week if I was working that weekend and then left me with "Dur her, see ya in four days!" He did make a small effort to go out Sunday. At the last minute. Instead of replying I rolled over and went to sleep because we'd reheated Thursday's dinner and I was overfull and ready to give in to another Tryptophan coma. It also got me to thinking .  .  . all we ever do is eat. At that point I'd decided I was ready to just start giving him the cold shoulder. I was so tired of making myself available, offering to be there whenever he needed it, putting SO much effort into even just a friendship and having him blow me off all the time. The only time we ever keep plans together is if they're ones he's made, my suggestions to go to the beach or go away for the weekend never come to be. Also, and this one is huge . . . he doesn't know that I know, but our mutual friend Stevie has a gay dating app on his phone. Guess whose profile he found while browsing the local guys?

I have never flat out asked Ken "Hey, are you sure you're not gay?" But he's volunteered statements of "I'm straight!" and "Men hit on me but I only flirt back to get free drinks" and "I've never been with a man/I don't date men."

I have slept in the same bed with this person.

Sat with my arm around him and listened to him tell me about the time his sister almost disowned him.

Been his designated driver.

Let him know that I love him and am always there if he needs anything.

WHY would he feel the need to lie to me about something as important as this? I understand some people are uncomfortable with their sexuality, but this feels like a huge betrayal after all the other stuff he's trusted me with. I mean, just . . . why? It's not like I haven't suspected he bats for the other team already. He could have come clean about this years ago instead of letting me make a fool of myself trying to win him over or get his pants off. I have lots of gay/bi friends so he knows I don't have an issue with it. I've been willing to overlook a lot with him, but this is just too much. Maybe not on it's own, but with everything else, it's just too big. The final straw was petty, but disgusting enough to put the nail in the coffin. His status on Thanksgiving night (on which he blew off his Black Friday shift, therefore forfeiting his holiday pay, by the way):

"The farts im havin are contractions for the terds Im fixing to have."

Yeah, I think we're done here. Unsubscribe. So he's still there, but I don't have to read this rubbish anymore, I've been very happy. Last Sunday I told him to come to the pharmacy and I'd give him one of the cupcakes I brought. No reply, and he never poked his face in at us, either. Yesterday during work I received another text from him, asking if I was working and when I was going to lunch. I said at four. He replied that I really suck, because he's leaving at one and wanted to have lunch with me, and that he didn't feel right going to Moe's without me, but still that I sucked. I told him if he wanted to go that badly, he could stop being lazy and just come back at four and meet me. Needless to say there was no reply and at four, I found myself just sitting at the smoker's lounge with Dixie and the usual gang of troublemakers. Terry from produce has such a perverted sense of humor and a fast mouth, he slays me. Dirty old bastard. But we all love him. I'm not going to pine over lost opportunities to eat burritos with Ken anymore. If he wanted to see me that badly, he'd drive the lousy five miles back to town to do so, not just when it's convenient for him. I mean hell, even as a friend, he just sucks. I don't even bother inviting him to anything anymore.

And then there's Lab Rat, whom shall be referred to as such until a later time. What's on his feed?

Pictures of him with his robes and lightsabers. Holding swords. Or with a snake around his neck. Yes, a real, live, wriggling snake. Goofing off with friends at work. Star Wars prints that he's found on Deviantart. And my personal favorite thus far, Sesame Street's Count punching Edward Cullen in the face.

On Kenny's feed?

In a hotel room with bloodshot eyes. Taking shots. Drinking beer. Taking more shots. At his sister's house, so knock down drunk that he's got her bra on over his clothes.

 Admittedly, from the time he started working at Voldemart, I've always thought Lab Rat was very attractive. But he was young and incredibly thin and I doubted if he'd want to have anything to do with plump,unremarkable, close to thirty me. To be fair, it wasn't until recently that I finally seized the opportunity to let on I wasn't as young as I figured he thought I was. No, Mr. Sith Lord person, I am not 23. But THANK YOU, haha! It really hasn't stopped him doing what he does. Is the 28/22 thing still a little weird for me? You betcha. But on the other hand, a large part of me really does like the filthy messages. Knowing he's had fantasies about the two of us makes it sorely tempting to just bury my hands in all that messy black hair and lay one on him. And yet his offer to come over Thursday night scared the crap out of me because I was afraid he'd want to get physical. I should really go after this, at worst, he's a creepy little perv with unfortunate good looks. At best . . . I could go to ren-faires with someone like this. Cons. Movie openings. Theme parks. If I could just get him to pull his head out of the gutter and speak, he might be a really great person. I'm not gonna be hard on the socially awkward thing, because I've been there, and I'm still there to some extent, so I know where he's coming from. Talking to people you don't really know can suck, especially if you find them attractive. Last night as I was walking past photo lab to go clock out, there he was. I had to go that way, and due to the large amounts of large layaway items crammed back there for the season and the dozen or so people squeezed into line, I ended up having to squeeze right past him, literally. He never stopped looking at me and then the motherfucker with that evil smile had to go and wink. Blood. Suddenly there was less of it in my head and I felt the need to breathe deeply and go outside for fresh air. Gods, but it's awful how someone can make me come all undone and giddy. There's definitely something there, and damn, but I want him, I want to at least try.