Adventures in Texting - Odd Kink Edition

So long ago (this past summer) I had an adventurous hook up with a guy that was pretty amazing in bed.  We planned to connect a second time and in anticipation of our next meeting, he was texting me that he wanted me to be in bed in my softest sweats, waiting for him. So I did as he requested (I aim to please, Reader) and he came over.  Unfortunately for he and I, he was extremely nervous when not pumped full of Bud Light, and could not get it up.   Super.  Fail.  It goes without saying that he disappeared after that particular night.  Stoney and I agreed that he had likely unloaded the gun prior to his arrival at my house out of pre-performance anxiety. 

Fast-forward 4 months.  Stoney and I were having a quiet night out, and after listening to me despair over my roster’s complete inability to make something happen in my vagina, Stoney suggested that I reach out to the guy who was great one night and couldn’t get it up the next (She had dubbed him The Experience during our first encounter, but I have since renamed him. See below).  So I did. 2 days or so later, I get the following text:

Couldn’t Get It Up (CGIU): Who is this?

Reader, are there any worse words in the universe to see on a text screen?  Dagger to the nuts, right there.  So I respond:

Rita: Obviously someone you have deleted. 

24 hours later (this guy is clearly rather slow on the uptake), I receive the following:

CGIU: I’d really like to know who this is, I got a new phone so I don’t have old contacts.

Rita: Rita.

CGIU: Where did I meet you? (he’s finally decided to solve the mystery and responds immediately! And clearly doesn’t remember me, which is another dagger, but hey, it was one drunken night and then a night that he probably doesn’t want to remember)

Rita: Name of Bar.  Your friend was hitting on me, but you stealthily got my number.  We hooked up the next night.  But then when I had you over again, you were clearly extremely nervous and nothing happened.  Mystery solved?

CGIU: Ah ha!  Yes! How have you been??

Rita: I feel like I’ve accomplished something today!  Except for finding out that I’m not that memorable.  I’m good.

CGIU: No, honestly my association with your name just wasn’t 100%...sorry

Rita: No offense.  Our time together sober was limited, I admit. How are you?

CGIU: Good, thanks!  I know, sorry about that though.  Typically I’m BETTER sober, not the opposite. So...did you want to try me again?? J

Rita: Well, that’s fun to think about.  I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way.  I was very attracted to you in probably in hindsight was about as subtle as a golden retriever.  And yes, yes I do.

CGIU: I’d like another try. ;)  If you would do your best to entertain my sweatpants and sweatshirt fetish, it would definitely help me relax. 

Rita: I would be happy to indulge you.  Just let me know exactly what you want.

CGIU: Traditional sweatpants and sweatshirts.  The thick fuzzy kind, you in them with nothing underneath.  The more plush the better

(ok, this makes me laugh just typing it again.  WTF? )

Rita: I can do this.

CGIU: I’d like if we both have them on with the crotches torn out

Rita: Maybe you should do the tearing.

CGIU: I’m officially too horny to work now

Rita: I was wondering if that was having effect on you, just thinking about it...

CGIU: It is. I’m contemplating leaving to relieve myself

Rita: Oh my.

CGIU: I know

Rita: Let me know when you want to get together.

CGIU: Do you have the right sweats?

Rita: Do my old sweats with my university across the ass and an old hoodie work?

CGIU: Are they soft and fuzzy inside? If so, now!

Rita:  Now is a little short notice J. I will have to figure something out for you on the sweats situation. 

Rita: OR maybe you should pick out what you want and bring it to me.  I mean, in most of my fantasies that usually involves lingerie, but I am flexible!

CGIU: Okay, I will bring you some! Since you are willing to wear that for me, I’d be happy to wear whatever you want me to

Rita: I would certainly hope so. I don’t have any special requests of you.  But I will keep that in mind...

So there’s that to look forward to, Reader.  I know you probably think we are making this shit up, but really, is that even possible?  So people that are turned on by their partner dressing up as a mascot or large animal are called Furries? What the fuck is someone into plush sweats called?  Plushies? Turns out, no.  Urbandictionary.com (the be-all-end-all of interwebs knowledge) says that is someone sexually aroused by stuffed animals. Ummm? Sweaties? Oh wow. Don’t google that, I’ll save you the trouble:

or 'the sweaties' is a physiological disorder in which an individual (who is often overweight) develops a sweat patch around the axilla (underarm region), mammary gland (man boob/breast region) or back, in an environment in which a person deemed normal would not sweat. These disturbed individuals are often referred to as sweaty fuck tards, or sft’s for short.

And how about fuzzies?  Shit!  Apparently that’s just another way to say Furries.  Well…if you have a suggestion, for the love of god, leave a comment as we are at a loss here.

I’ll let you know how sweatpant sex goes, if it happens. 

- Rita

The Situation, aka The Circumstance

Stoney and I start a lot of sentences this way, "So did you see that guy at the gym…?" and fill in the blank with one of our common answers…

1)    "…with the tats on his leg? Dibs!" (Stoney.  She has a total hard-on for tats.)

2)    "…with the amazing ass? Dibs!" (Rita. Well, and every woman and gay man with a pulse.)

3)    "…who looks like Wolverine? Dibs!" (Stoney. Totally looks like a mini Wolverine. So. HOT!)

4)    "…who I think we need to make a sandwich out of? Double dibs!" (In unison!) 

Then there was the one day that I said, "Have you seen the guy at the gym who looks like The Situation?"  Stoney knew exactly who I was talking about - and he really sort of does.  He is tall and built with a Guido-esque look to him and he has a constant tan (Not the orange kind. The regular kind).  We had exchanged a few words with him at the gym but didn't know him especially well.  Then one weekend when Stoney and I were at a bar in our neighborhood, we ran into him.  (Unfortunately, he was wearing - yes, Reader - a douchecape.  We hung out with him that night and as it turns out... he was super nice and funny, in a goofy way.  

Random Stoney insert:  We were talking to a male friend of ours about the physical similarities between The Situation on the Jersey Shore and our real life version. Having not ever seen an episode of this gloriously appalling "reality" show, our friend kept erroneously referring to them both as "The Circumstance or whatever." 

The following week at the gym, I couldn’t take it anymore and had to let him know who I thought he looked like. When I told him, he was sufficiently horrified and denied the accusation.  So we became buddies with him and I turned it up to full wattage whenever he was around because, well I think he is hot and I adore his personality.

Then one day at the gym when Stoney was flying solo (meaning I wasn't there to bitch and be strident while we worked out.  I just want to cunt punch her sometimes.), The Situation asked her what "we" were doing that weekend, and if "we" were going to be out and about.  He got Stoney's number (super fail, Rita) and texted her to see what "we" were doing.  So I figured, as one does, that he was interested in her.

We didn't end up connecting with him that week, but we did run into him at a bar one Stumble Home Sunday and BOTH turned it up to full wattage with him - to no avail.  We could have been two blocks of concrete wearing cute dresses and heels.  He seemed totally immune to our charms.  Not to sound conceited here, but we were mystified.  Which does sound conceited but that’s how we roll.

So the next week at the gym, we started to feel him out a bit more.  "So," asks Stoney, "Do you think the guys in the weight room here think Rita and I are a couple?  Does anyone say anything around you about the possibility that we are lesbians?"  Truth be told, we kind of do look the part - with Rita grunting while we lift free weights in wife-beaters and trucker hats. We talk to him about our 'faux lesbian' relationship, about how we're for all intents and purposes dating each other, and just fucking guys on the side.  He gives us a blank look.  For some reason, when we start up with the provocative talk, he blanks out.  Seriously?  Girls talking about sex doesn't do it for you?  Okaaaayyyyyy….

A couple of weeks later, Stoney got a text from him wondering if we wanted to meet for a drink at a place around the corner.  Stoney and I gave ourselves a pep talk in the car before we went in - clearly, we were just going to be friends with The Situation and we decided that maybe he had cute friends he would introduce us to!  He would be a great friend-date if we needed one!  Etc, etc.  We joined him for a couple of glasses of wine and just chatted and hung out.  He was friendly and flirty (to both of us - Jeebus!).  Then, he started talking about a group of women sitting next to us at the bar that The Situation pegged as area housewives who were out for a night away from their husbands.  He took a few opportunities to eavesdrop and insert witty comments into their conversations.  So when Stoney and I go to leave, he decides he's staying to flirt with the housewives.  WTF? 

I wish I could say that Stoney and I gave up after that, but we're not quitters, Reader!  Yet another night at the gym, The Situation asks us if we want to get dinner and go out afterwards.  WE.  Not she.  Not me.  Who asks two girls to dinner at the same time?  The Situation, apparently, that's WHO! Stoney beats me to the restaurant (because, of COURSE we went) where things get stranger as he informs her that he was hungry and already ate.  So then I arrive.  We order dinner, have drinks and laugh and enjoy ourselves (side note - how many people think that they invented the word "fuckstick?" because The Situation thinks he did and so does Stoney's dad).  I mean, in his defense, he has never really made either one of us feel like we were tagging along and we can do nothing but assume at this point that he really does just want to be friends…but fuck, we cover a lot of the spectrum when it comes to being attractive to the opposite sex (and sometimes the same) and seriously, he can't get it up for one of us? 

Our gay friend at the gym  asked us the other day why one of us doesn't go after The Situation.  You know what, dear Gym Gay, we tell him?  We've both been out on a date with him.  At the same time!  And he didn't bite.  Gym Gay was also baffled.  (Again, get yourself a gay. They are lovely in every. single. sense. of the word!)

I'd like to assume that there just hasn't been enough alcohol involved.  But honestly, the amount of times we've been out drinking with The Situation…do I need a guy to be comatose to be attracted to me? It's nothing short of mystifying.  If one of us ever ends up getting in his pants, you'll be the first to know!

Let's Review November or, Bad Decision Month 2011

Tips from Rita and Stoney that you should definitely remember from our most recent posts:

Don’t date a gamer. Not that anyone that is reading this blog should have to be told that.  If he’s gaming when you show up at his house, he’s a gamer. Leave now. 

Don’t friend me on The Facebook (or any other social networking site).  I will seek you out if I want you in that realm of my life.

Douchecapes - a recurring theme here at The Gee Spot.  Burn them or get on Pinterest and find a creative way to repurpose them into a fashionable scarf!

Don’t agree to first “dates” like watching basketball at a guy’s house. It just spoils them, and they'll assume that they never have to take you in public.  If someone asks you over for a "date" at their house, you're basically a booty call that gets a sandwich at some point.

Don’t let guys fuck your face just because they are gorgeous.  I can't believe someone had to tell Stoney that.

Tell all of your male friends the following:

1.      Don’t talk about other women while in bed or being intimate with someone else.  Yeah, we can’t believe we had to point this stupid shit out either, but it wasn’t the first time this has happened to either of us and it most certainly won’t be the last.  Jacksacks.  The whole lot of them.

2.      Women like to be taken on PLANNED dates.

3.      Call and ask for said planned date.  Don’t text, email, IM or send smoke signals.  And while I’m at it don’t say something like “What do you have planned for this weekend?” and then expect us to know that’s you asking for a date.  Get your balls out of the drawer. 

4. There are way more "Tell All of Your Male Friends This..." that can and will be added to this, but we don't want to overload the male mind too much at once. So to be continued...

The right man jeans are hot. Take one of your female friends shopping and trust her judgment - unless she has bought you a Douchecape at some point during your friendship.  Then ask a salesperson.

Married men you are sleeping with are liars.  We all know that men in general will say any old crazy shit to get into your pants.  But married men are worse - you know for sure they're lying to their wife, so you can pretty much guarantee that they are lying to you.  So take everything they say with a grain of salt and protect yourself whenever possible, literally and figuratively.  

Sleeping with a co-worker is a bad idea, unless you enjoy being around an ex on a daily basis.  Doesn't that sound like a great fucking time? If so, you might be a masochist and should look into other ways to torture yourself.

Do not assume that men who don't wear a ring are not married.  Those things come off, girls.

Don’t follow Stoney’s lead in dating.  She’s an idiot sometimes.  Beautiful, but stupid.  People show you who they are the first time.  Believe them. WE CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. QUIT TRYING TO CHANGE PEOPLE.