Date. And An ‘I’m Not Sure I Should Have Done That’ Story…

11 Jun

So I stood outside, waiting for this guy to show up.  At noon he did text me and tell me he was going to be a little bit late.  OK, at least I got a text, but I was still not happy.  At ten after, I texted him and told him I was going in to have a beer.  Fuck this.  If he didn’t show, I was still going to drink.  And by now, I was just angry.

A few minutes later in breezed a very tall, very muscular blond-haired blue-eyed man.  He came to rest at my table, and he looked very apologetic.  I’m so sorry, he said.  I didn’t know the highway (that runs by the restaurant) was under construction!  I feel like such a shit!

Well…that was a good start.  He sat down, and I studied him while he talked to the waiter.  He was thin.  But not anorexic thin.  A work-out fiend thin.  Strong.  Angular.  He later told me he used to be a martial arts fighter.  Well, there you go!  That’s how he got that body.

We talked for three hours, and it only felt like one.  We talked about work, hobbies, favorite trips, etc.  He asked very little about my marriage and divorce, and I was actually OK with that.  He was interested in me as a person.

As we talked I noticed he had a small facial tick that would normally not get noticed.  Fighting injury, was the reply.  Surprisingly, this didn’t bother me (as weird things usually do).  It made him more…endearing.  New name: Fighter.

I called an end to the date when I realized how long we ha actually been there.  Damn…broke a rule.  He paid for the meal (and my two drinks I consumed in my anger earlier) and walked me outside to my car.  Then he gave me a hug.  Not just any hug…one of those full body hugs.  Strong full body hugs.  God DAMN this guy was strong.  And my mind was fantasizing.  I told him I had a great time.  He said he did as well.  Later that day I got a couple of texts from him, but no offer of a second date.  We will see.

Here is the second part to the title of this story…fuck fuckitty fuck…

On the drive back my truck started making some crazy noise.  I know this noise to be a loose belt.  SHIT.  I called the first person to come to mind.  My favorite-and only mechanic.  Mr. Hottie.

E: Dude, my car is making a loose belt noise, can you please look at it so I don’t die in a fiery crash later today?
M: I’m at my place.  Swing by and I will take a look.
E: I am coming just for the truck.  Understood?
M: Babe, I have shit to do, either come by or not.

So I headed that direction.  I pulled into his driveway, and he sauntered on over to me.  All business, after a sexy little smile.  He spent a good 20 minutes looking in the engine, told me what needs to be replaced, and gave me a list of things to buy.

E: How much is all of this going to cost me?
M: Just parts.
E: Really?  That’s it?  I don’t know what to say.
M: Why don’t you come in for a drink.
E: I thought you have shit to do.
M: *sexy smile* Oh Babe, I do.

Damn.  I followed him inside, all the while giving myself a mental pep talk.  Just a drink.  One drink.  I haven’t seen him in over a year, and we are just going to catch up.  THAT’S IT.

He handed me a water.  I looked at it stupidly.  I didn’t even realize he went to the kitchen and back.  I looked up at him when he grabbed my wrist and flipped it over.

M: What’s this?   A fucking tattoo?  You marred your body?  Only french whores get tattoos.  (He does NOT like tattoos on women, and I snapped out of my stupor)
E: You aren’t my fucking boyfriend.  And it’s my body.  I can get a tattoo if I damn well please.  And who the fuck are you to tell me I can’t?  Go fuck yourself!  (I’m so eloquent.  I pushed him away from me with a good amount of force)
M: Now that’s the Esme I’ve been wanting.  Not the meek chick that walked in here.

Before I could register what he just said, I found myself flat on my back on his couch.  His lips kissing, his hands roaming.  Clothes discarded throughout the room.  I couldn’t get him close enough to me.  God, how I wanted this guy.  I was scratching and pulling hair, he was manhandling me in such a way that I am blushing as I write this.  It was animalistic, urgent, and just fucking hot.  Damn I have missed sex with this guy.

M: Next time, I will make sure you have a bed, and a hell of a lot more of my time.

Christ.

Much love, Esme

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4 Responses to “Date. And An ‘I’m Not Sure I Should Have Done That’ Story…”

  1. MyDatingHangovers June 11, 2011 at 11:38 am #

    Ooooh wee! At first I was excited about the Fighter but then started having a nervous twitch because he reminded me of Full Metal Jacket- lean and strong but the Mr. Hottie reunion?

    Muy caliente chica!

    Now THAT is how you get your sexy back and don’t you dare start wondering about anything else. It was a hook up after a long time so leave it at that and see if he makes the next move.

    Ah… So glad your mini drought is over! 🙂

    • Esme June 11, 2011 at 12:04 pm #

      It was pretty hot 😀
      I can’t WAIT to see if we get together again…I’m all flushed just thinking about it!

    • Esme June 11, 2011 at 12:12 pm #

      And I didn’t get the Full Metal Jacket vibe from him. He is very low-key and down to earth. One too many shots to the head??

  2. thoughtsappear June 13, 2011 at 7:11 am #

    I hope The Fighter asks for a 2nd date!

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