So many moons ago (read as: about 8 months ago) in a galaxy far-far away (about 7 miles from my house), I made many a fatal error with a gentleman (using this word loosely) caller that I refer to as Sexy Back (SXB). First, let’s breakdown the nickname. This is yet another fellow from my gym that I met within a couple of months of my breakup. His name comes from the months prior to introducing myself that I spent staring at his ridiculously chiseled back and imagining ripping off his UnderArmour fitted shirt and rubbing him down with coconut oil. I didn’t know about coconut oil then, but I do now so it applies.
SXB took my number after a couple of times of chatting at the gym, but never used it. The Cowboy (see previous "Adventures in Texting" for a complete description of this narcissistic wanker) informed me that SXB didn’t want to call me because he just wanted a fuck buddy and not to date. Thanks for the imaginary punch to the cooch, wank! All the same, SXB texted me that same night. We made plans to get together and watch a basketball game at his house. This would be my first mistake. Don’t agree to first “dates” like this, reader. It just spoiled him in the long run and he never wanted to leave his house.
SXB and I hung out about once a week after that. Always at his place. Always with the TV on. Also with food of some sort delivered and, most importantly always with a semi. See, SXB liked him some head. He could get hard for it and always come. SXB, however, could not keep it up for actual penetration. I think maybe in the dozen plus times we “hungout,” he played to the end with actual intercourse only once. Rita says he loved it when I came over basically because I would order in food, sit and watch TV with him and then let him fuck my face. And that pretty much summed that up. He was terrible at conversation, totally rude and demeaning and a clearly horrible lay. Again, Rita still stands by the fact that if this man wasn’t gorgeous, some woman would be on death row for murdering him in his sleep after Lorena Bobbitt-ing his ass, shoving his own dick in his mouth (thus fucking his own face) and suffocating him. Well, that’s not exactly what she says but it’s something about killing him in his sleep because he’s useless to all womankind.
After spending yet another night in his bed completely unfulfilled, I listened as SXB told me about his most recent long-term relationship and how she was probably “The One” and he fucked it up.
Dear Reader,
Please tell all of your stupid-ass male friends not to talk about past lovers, ones-that-got-away, true loves, soulmates, their mother, etc. while they are naked in bed with a woman.
Sincerely,
All the other fucking women on the planet.
Needless to say, after that wonderfully uplifting experience, when SXB fell off of the planet (hopefully into the bowels of hell) right after that, I wasn’t too upset about it.
Radio silent for nearly 4 months now, SXB has resurfaced. He’s begging for a date.
SXB: For what it’s worth, I am really sorry.
Stoney: For what it’s worth, I’m an amazing woman (even outside of the bedroom). But you didn’t even give me a chance.
He’s been begging for 3 weeks for a date. I finally agreed. It’s tomorrow. I’m debating just getting drunk now and randomly texting strangers in my phone or just going ahead and shooting myself in the foot. I’m apparently an idiot and slightly masochistic. For God sakes, don’t ever follow my lead. I can only be held accountable for my own obviously ridiculous decisions. I’ll let you know how it goes, but I've got a twenty dollar bill that says he’s going to try and fuck my face again.
-Stoney
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