So I just came back from my second vacay, sponsored by the guy I was so mad at not a month ago. Yeah, well, there will be a third. He’s footing the bill for that one, too. I didn't even confront him about the white girl. How could I, really? I mean, it's not like he violated any rules of our "relationship." We did discuss when we'd see each other again tho, and when we'd see each other after that, and how often I could come back ... I know, I know, I know, I said I was gonna let it go. I said I was mad and hurt and needed to get over it and would reclaim my celibacy and all that … I know. But I’m a hopeless romantic, what can I say.
And it was so romantic. We went out for drinks at this sexy little, dimly lit live jazz bar and had some cozy convo on the sofa before heading to this swanky sushi hotspot and sharing some yellow tail and more than a few shots. Then we retired back to my girl’s house where I was staying, for a night cap. We sat on the porch listening to music from his cell phone and chatting about everything. It began to sprinkle and we twinkled our toes hanging off the edge of the steps, in the water from the sky. I told him how much I loved the rain.
“It’s the best sleep,” I said. He agreed.
I told him I wanted to sleep in the flatbed of his pick-up truck. (I have no idea why he drives a pick up truck. He really doesn’t seem the type). It was a light rain and would let up momentarily. He said he hadn’t done that in forever.
“Does your girl have any blankets?”
“Nah, I don’t wanna make laundry for her like that,” I said.
“Well let’s go buy some blankets then,” he said. I thought I’d challenge him with my spontaneity but he came right back. Love that.
“You serious?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
We jumped up, and he started his truck while I ran upstairs and packed a little overnight bag.
We picked up flashlights, sleeping bags, sleeping bag liners, bottled water a sweat shirt for me (so sweet for him to think of that) and wet wipes at Walmart. As soon as we wheeled the cart into the parking lot it began to pour. Hard, like a tsunami. We raced to the truck and piled the stuff in before taking refuge in the front cabin.
We rode around for a while waiting for it to let up, listening to Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt and reminiscing about where we were in our lives when we first heard our favorite rapper. After about a half, we gave up on waiting out the weather and checked into a hotel. (Is this boring to everyone but me? Sorry, I wanna share). We lied on the bed and flipped channels for a while spooning, before he asked, “you hungry?”
I can always eat, so we ran across the street to IHOP in the pour down.
“Beat ya!” I took off smacking the puddles in my flip-flops.
It’s about 4 in the morning now.
And when we got back to the hotel an hour later, the sex was fire. Fire, you hear me? The foreplay alone went on for an hour … The sun came up over our fourth floor room with the drapes agape, and we came as well. : )
I flew out a few days later, but not before he booked me another flight a couple months out.
Damn. And I’m right back in. His number’s also back in my cell phone. Personalized ringer and all that. LOL. When will I learn?
Rain is so sexy.
-- Mel
It’s difficult for me to enter anything with no expectations. Even frivolous sex. But I’m trying to keep a cool head about this. It’s been fun, sexy, exhilarating, and if we keep this up every couple of months it could make for a nice little, mutually beneficial vacation-type relationship. Ever had a vacaytionship? Ahh refreshing. That’s another blog.
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… And speaking of sucking dick. Okay, I know we weren’t but is there ever a bad time to talk about fellatio? I think not.
