Sunday, April 26, 2009
This is Part II of a longer post. You can read the first post at Unblemished Purity, Part I.
Right away, Kerry buys a round of drinks with a $100 bill. Interesting. Trust-fund baby? Good job? Or just didn't have time to break a birthday gift? Who knows.
The night progresses and I'm getting MORE sober. Liz is outpacing us 2-1. Kerry's on her 3rd drink of the night as it gets closer to 3am. Liz hits the head, and Kerry leans in. "Liz told me about your predicament." Which one is that? I have a few. "About your dearth of decent women in your life." Ugh. At least she used the word dearth. I'm not looking anymore, having drinks like this is the perfect way to end the night. Her face pouts a bit, but then she smiles and says "Tacos later?"
I'm actually hungry. Liz comes back out after a long wait, and she says she's dead tired and can't even fathom putting more starch in her belly. We pop outside in the light rain, and we decide to part ways. Liz looks beat, for sure, so I give her a smooch and she grabs the only waiting cab. "So, tacos?" asked Kerry again. Yeah, I could really go for some Mexican, but without the shell. She rubs my abs quickly and says "Is that how you stay skinny?" Skinny? Me? I've 20 pounds on me that must go, but I'd fall asleep in 18 seconds if I bundle up on corn and wheat. Kerry smiles and winks.
Another cab pulls up, and I hold the door for Kerry. "Thank you, ChicagoSane." I smile and wink back, and I hop in the back with her. Her hand is on my leg as we talk about her plans for the summer. "Mostly moving. Finding a roommate. Really not sure about Chicago, but the school I'm attending gets good reviews." She's going back to school for something technical, which is a nice change from what seems to be a common topic. The cab heads to Lazo's on Western and Fullerton or so. Open 24/7. We pop in, and I ask for a seat. "Let's get it to go." Kerry is staying with friends, so I ask her where she wants to eat it. "Your apartment!"
That's not a good idea, I tell her. She's Liz's friend, and if she didn't know, Liz and I fooled around. "Oh, it's just tacos. I'll crash on the couch." I live far from here, northwest side. "I have no idea where that is. Do cabs go there?" Of course.
So we grab our double order of steak and chicken combo fajitas to go. There's a cab out front (a different one), and with our luck we snag it before the drunk yuppies stumble out of Lazo's. It took almost 20 minutes to get up to my place. By the time we arrived, we're both sober.
We quietly walk into my place and she grabs a seat on my couch. "Can you reheat the food?" Kerry asks me. I stick it in the microwave after dumping all the foil and cardboard, and hit the "reheat meat" button. 3 minutes at 50%. I sit down next to her, and we talk.
After the food is heated, she goes to check on it. "Ouch, that's hot!" she said, a little too loud for 4am. "I'll let it cool off." She slams the microwave door shut and sits right back down next to me.
I turn to ask her what part of Chicago she's planning to move to when she plants her lips on mine. I start to pull my shoulders back when her hands both grab them, playing the best offensive move against my very weak defense. She pulls her tiny self closer to me, and I finally accept the kiss from her small mouth.
A few minutes of that, with my arms slowly pulling her in, and I finally break it. I tell her she's pretty, but I'm not looking to run through all of Liz's friends, and I definitely don't want to hurt Liz's feelings. "I asked Liz if I can take you home. She approved." Oh. "And none of her friends would be into you. You're too edgy, and I know they'd be scared of you." That's true, I do scare a lot of people with my lack of reality. "To be honest, I didn't see the attraction at the start..."
What about the food? "It can wait." We get back to kissing. She's not too bad, but not great. Small mouth, slim lips, young. I slow her down, her hands in my hands, and move closer without my lips touching. She keeps jumping her face onto mine, and I pull back, only giving her a kiss on my terms. Softer. Smoother. Less impact, less tongue, more eye contact, more tension being built.
"Why do you tease me?" I don't reply, just look in her eyes and she hops back to try to kiss me. I pull back just enough that she comes up short. "No, why?"
With her hands in mine, I pull them down to her lap and use my shoulder to push her shoulder onto the couch. Our eyebrows touch momentarily, and our eyes are locked. Her first moan leaves her lips as her eyes roll up and close. She's getting very, very sexy.
"Bedroom?" she asks. No, there's no rush. I wasn't even considering sleeping with her, honestly. She's pretty, but her sense of tease and sexiness matches that of most women her age. If I wasn't the man that I am, I'd already have fucked her and sent her on her way in a cab. I'm this kind of man, one who isn't just about meeting my needs if I can't meet hers.
Lets take it slow. "Ok" she tries to say, but before the O is finished I put my lips on hers and release her hands. Her hands touch my shoulder and work their way down my body as my hands are planted on the couch to keep me from smothering her. Good hands, this one. As my lips grace her jawline, she moans again. "Bed, please..."
I haven't been kissing her 15 minutes and she's begging? Not a good sign. So I tell her: I don't sleep with girls who sleep around, really. I don't think the bedroom is a good idea.
Then she says it.
"Umm, I'm a virgin." What? "A virgin? Haven't had sex, well, umm, intercourse?" That's the first two times she's used the word "umm" all night. She's fidgety now, barely able to look into my eyes.
Do you want to have sex? With me? "Umm, yes. Please. Liz told me about your few dates or whatever, and that's why I wanted to meet you." Fuck, I've been had! A blind date hook-up from one hot girl who introduces me to a pretty girl, and she has to be a fucking virgin.
Back in high school, I had many female friends. I wasn't a player. My two serious girlfriends didn't sleep with me because I wasn't ready to take them there. But I ended up sleeping with 6 of my closest gal pals because they all wanted to lose their virginities before college. So I'm the de facto 30-something expert on doing it right. I told Liz this story, and I wonder if she told Kerry.
"Look, I don't live here. I might live here, but if I do, I'm not going to chase you. I can get it from guys my age, but most of them can't even kiss, and not like that." These words she said are paraphrased, because my mind was swimming. The virgins I've bedded knew it was going to happen only a few times (and sometimes repeated in the years since, but it was always great sex). This is a different situation. I haven't bedded a virgin in almost 13 years.
She noticed my perplexity. "If not sex, let's just fool around. When I first saw you at the bar, I didn't think much of you. But all night all I could think about were your lips and hair and eyes and shoulders and hands and your voice." Ah, the voice. I do some voiceover work, and if a woman finds me ugly (and yes, some do), the voice will usually win them over. Ugh.
I kiss her again, sealing the idea that something will happen.
Read on in Part III.