"Hi" she says.
"Hi" says I, "You're Adrienne, right?"
"Andrea" she says as my embarrassment cuts the conversation short.
Then I was on my way. She said something about being away for the weekend. Whatever. She's really cute and I get that feeling in my stomach. That feeling you get when you meet someone that you just know has personality, that you could just bet you'll be able to talk with.
"Hi" says I, "You're Adrienne, right?"
"Andrea" she says as my embarrassment cuts the conversation short.
Then I was on my way. She said something about being away for the weekend. Whatever. She's really cute and I get that feeling in my stomach. That feeling you get when you meet someone that you just know has personality, that you could just bet you'll be able to talk with.
Cut to last Saturday afternoon, I'm learning how to play spades with my other downstairs neighbor and his gay friends. And she shows up.
Her trip was cancelled or something. I ask her if she wants to hang out tonight and she accepts. She is off right then to see her friends by where she grew up. I return to my game of spades.
Her trip was cancelled or something. I ask her if she wants to hang out tonight and she accepts. She is off right then to see her friends by where she grew up. I return to my game of spades.
Later that evening I sat smoking on my porch and she came strolling up with Jay. We all sit and smoke and talk for a few minutes. Jay is going somewhere or something so it's just me and her, off to dinner. We go to the Broadway Grille. She was there the other day with Matt. Oh well. We have dinner and some nice conversation. She tells me about her family and her life. I'm very interested in her. I worry, though, when a guy seems to interested does he come off as needy? I back off.
"Let's go to the movies," I say, hoping she wants to go as well.
"Yeah, she says, let's go," she replied seemingly excited about the idea.
So off to the movies we go. On the way to the theatre we pass the local Go-Go bar.
"There's the local go-go bar," I say, stating the obvious.
"You'll have to take me sometime."
"You'd go with me?" I ask incredulously, knowing that I haven't been to a go-go bar in years and years.
"Yeah," she says "maybe I could meet some cute girl"
My mind goes "Huh?"
"Huh?" I say.
"Yeah, I'm pretty open in that regard" is as close to a quote as I can remember because I'm starting to get that feeling again. And it's not the idea of her with a woman, although that fucking rocks, it's the idea of her as pretty goddamned cool, liberal, open-minded, and sensitive.
But I say none of these things, passing it off as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it is.
Cut to the theatre.
Waiting in the lobby for the movie to start Andrea and I get into a conversation about backrubs.
"And who doesn't like backrubs?" we concur. She offers that tickling is just as good, though. I love to tickle, to touch, to feel warm skin against mine. Always have. Love contact, life. She rubs her soft fingers against my inner forearm and I shudder. It's been way too long since anyone has even touched me, let a lone tickled me. She's good, I think to myself.
"You're good." I say. She smiles. Great fucking smile.
We go to see "Bridget Jones Diary" Renee Zellweigger (sp?) is looking very cute and the English accents turns me on.
"Let's go to the movies," I say, hoping she wants to go as well.
"Yeah, she says, let's go," she replied seemingly excited about the idea.
So off to the movies we go. On the way to the theatre we pass the local Go-Go bar.
"There's the local go-go bar," I say, stating the obvious.
"You'll have to take me sometime."
"You'd go with me?" I ask incredulously, knowing that I haven't been to a go-go bar in years and years.
"Yeah," she says "maybe I could meet some cute girl"
My mind goes "Huh?"
"Huh?" I say.
"Yeah, I'm pretty open in that regard" is as close to a quote as I can remember because I'm starting to get that feeling again. And it's not the idea of her with a woman, although that fucking rocks, it's the idea of her as pretty goddamned cool, liberal, open-minded, and sensitive.
But I say none of these things, passing it off as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it is.
Cut to the theatre.
Waiting in the lobby for the movie to start Andrea and I get into a conversation about backrubs.
"And who doesn't like backrubs?" we concur. She offers that tickling is just as good, though. I love to tickle, to touch, to feel warm skin against mine. Always have. Love contact, life. She rubs her soft fingers against my inner forearm and I shudder. It's been way too long since anyone has even touched me, let a lone tickled me. She's good, I think to myself.
"You're good." I say. She smiles. Great fucking smile.
We go to see "Bridget Jones Diary" Renee Zellweigger (sp?) is looking very cute and the English accents turns me on.
We get back to my (our) house. As I pull in I remember I want to get some smokes at the store. But before that I ask her rather bluntly "Are you a lesbian? Or bi or something?"
remembering the comment at the go-go bar and amazed that I forgot about it in the first place.
She says something to the effect of "That's a tricky question...sort of...maybe...long story..." Well, whatever, I think to myself.
"I just remembered, I want to get some smokes at the store" I say to her. "Wanna come with?"
Figuring she's had enough of my weirdness, I assume she's just going to go to bed, wanting to spend the first night in her new place.
"Yes" she says. Cool. We go to the store. The one-toothed, cross-eyed clerk gives her some shit about walking in with an open bottle of water. We have a good laugh outside and curse the homely bastard.
We've had a lot of laughs tonight. I'm enjoying it.
Back home she says "let's go have a smoke on the porch"
We go to the porch.
"It's freezing, wanna go upstairs to my apartment?" I say, not even remotely thinking about hooking up with her.
Again, she surprises me with a simple "yes."
We have a smoke. Check out my cat. Have a few more laughs. She doesn't seem to need to drink every time she's hanging out and I think that's really great. I don't mention it much though. Who knows why.
"Would you rub my back, it's really stiff."
"Nah, I don't think so," she says in reply to what must have seemed the most over-used come on in the world.
"I know that seems like the most over-used come on in the world," I say, "but I'm not trying to come on to you, I just haven't had my back rubbed in a long, long time."
We haggle some more for a moment or two. She again surprises me with a "yes."
Ten minutes later after having said back rubbed, she asks me to do her. Her back.
I love to give massages, and even if I didn't, of course I said yes.
I rub her back. I tickle it. She moves her shirt up. "Don't get excited" I tell myself.
"Don't get excited," she says reading my mind.
"Come tuck me in" she says, or I said, or something....
remembering the comment at the go-go bar and amazed that I forgot about it in the first place.
She says something to the effect of "That's a tricky question...sort of...maybe...long story..." Well, whatever, I think to myself.
"I just remembered, I want to get some smokes at the store" I say to her. "Wanna come with?"
Figuring she's had enough of my weirdness, I assume she's just going to go to bed, wanting to spend the first night in her new place.
"Yes" she says. Cool. We go to the store. The one-toothed, cross-eyed clerk gives her some shit about walking in with an open bottle of water. We have a good laugh outside and curse the homely bastard.
We've had a lot of laughs tonight. I'm enjoying it.
Back home she says "let's go have a smoke on the porch"
We go to the porch.
"It's freezing, wanna go upstairs to my apartment?" I say, not even remotely thinking about hooking up with her.
Again, she surprises me with a simple "yes."
We have a smoke. Check out my cat. Have a few more laughs. She doesn't seem to need to drink every time she's hanging out and I think that's really great. I don't mention it much though. Who knows why.
"Would you rub my back, it's really stiff."
"Nah, I don't think so," she says in reply to what must have seemed the most over-used come on in the world.
"I know that seems like the most over-used come on in the world," I say, "but I'm not trying to come on to you, I just haven't had my back rubbed in a long, long time."
We haggle some more for a moment or two. She again surprises me with a "yes."
Ten minutes later after having said back rubbed, she asks me to do her. Her back.
I love to give massages, and even if I didn't, of course I said yes.
I rub her back. I tickle it. She moves her shirt up. "Don't get excited" I tell myself.
"Don't get excited," she says reading my mind.
"Come tuck me in" she says, or I said, or something....
Cut to her bed. We're cuddling in a very cozy comforter. We touch. Innocently. We touch some more. Not so innocently, but surely not leading anywhere. I can tell she doesn't want it to. I'm fine with it. I like to touch. I am thrilled with the closeness of our bodies, the heat, the touch.
We eventually kiss. She's a great kisser. We sleep awkwardly. We sleep late. It's Sunday, so fuck it.
Later that day she goes to dinner with her closest family, and I go to dinner with mine.
I'm thinking about her while I'm there. I'm annoyed, as usual, with my family and the massive project it always is having dinner with them.
I go back home.
She's there. I help her move her furniture around, organize a few of there things. Mostly I sit nervously and talk with her. We agree that we really like each other. Or maybe she was just agreeing with me. But I don't think so.
"But I don't want to lead you on. There's a chance I find women more exciting than men, with men it cuts off at a certain point, at least physically, for me," she tells me in here room while putting away her clothes.
I'm holding a cordless, phallic shaped drill in my hands that bend three-quarters of the to the top so you can get in corners or some such nonesense.
I hit a button on the drill and it bends over, going limp. Too easy, I say to myself, and let the limp dick comments pass by.
For some reason, I'm not surprised by what she said and digging the fact that she cared enough to warn me, or tell me, or share. We get into a conversation about sensuality.
For the first time in my life it hits me like a ton of bricks. Sensuality. That's the fucking ticket. She's not really explaining what sensuality is, more just having a conversation about it, but my head is swimming all of a sudden.
It's amazing what happens when you hang out with someone your own age for a change.
Anyway, we talk some more. She likes me and yet she's basically telling me it won't go anywhere. Disregarding the cliched man-type attitude of "I can make her want me, even if she wants a woman, because I'm the man!" I proceed to really, really enjoy talking with her.
I give her a hug and tell her I enjoyed sleeping with her and not having sex more than I would have if we did fuck. She responds with "Good, because I'm not sure if that will happen" It's harmless and honest and I'm not offended in the least by the comment. Another in a long line of fucking mind blowing feelings I'm having with her. I don't even care. I feel like we know each other very well even though we don't. I trust her for some reason when I don't trust anyone. Even before the previous conversation I was thinking less about sex and more about...well...just her.
It's not the challenge, it's not the thrill of the chase, and it's not wanting something you can't have. She's simply very agreeable to my constitution in a way I don't know if I've ever felt.
We go upstairs to my apartment for a sleep-over. She seems to be into that, or me, or the company, or whatever. I don't care. My bed's been empty for too long and I'm practically exploding with the desire to just...well....lay down with her and run my fingers across her back. Why? If only I fucking knew. The story of my life.
We cuddle and touch and talk and kiss and feel and it's a good thing. I could get used to this.
"I could get used to this." I say to her wondering if I'm coming off as clingy when I'm not. And I try to let her know a few times that I'm not trying to "win her over" or something like that. But I think my excitement about her in general is very much obvious.
We sleep in again. We fool around in the morning, my favorite. She tries to leave, but I don't think she really wanted to. I keep her there, trusting my assumption that I'm not pressuring her to stay. We fool around some more. We're getting into it and she's starting to feel guilty over getting me so excited. So she lends me a hand. And a mouth.
Like an asshole I'm worried about the fact that she's doing it to please me and not because she wants to, but because she's nice enough to care about me that way. Or whatever. And so as incredible as out little interlude was, I still was pretty nervous.
I want to make love to her. Badly.I thinks she wants to too. But she doesn't want to. I mean she wants to, but not now. Or ever. But not now. Or maybe never. But, I can tell physically she wants.
I've crossed the line I think. I feel bad and apologize. It's seems to be ok. We spend the rest of the morning talking and laughing and talking some more.
We go to lunch after searching all around town for someplace open. We enjoy each other again. We kid around about getting married and her having a woman on the side. Something completely foreign to me takes over and makes me feel like that would be just fine if we could, actually, start a family together. And it would be fine. Because I'm starting to think that I care about her. And in doing so, I naturally care that she does things that make her happy, even if it is sleeping with other women.
"Well, duh." I hear the devil on my shoulder say to me. "Of course you like that, you typical man." But it's more than that. It's her. She's incredibly easy to be with, smart, sexy, fun, open, adventurous, sensitive, caring. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
No, I'm not falling in love with her. I could, maybe, someday, if I really got to know her. It's just infatuation right now. Yet it's more than that. It's like I got the right side of my brain back after being lost at the cleaners for a few years.. My emotions have come back to me after a long stint on the disabled list.
I'm not falling in love with her, and I really hope she doesn't think that because it would completely scare her off.But damn, my instincts about these things have never failed me before.
Yet, I still wonder how she feels, although she gives me every indication of really caring about me and enjoying me.
It's kind of overwhelming, but I'm determined not to let it get serious and ruin a great thing.
When she left to take a shower before we had lunch, I kept her comforter in my room as a bargaining chip to spend yet another night together.
She sees right through it but leaves it there anyway. We kid about how the past few days seem like weeks. We make all kinds of plans like people do when they start dating someone and they're trying to convince that other person that, yes, we will be seeing a lot of each other so it's okay to make plans. Or maybe it's a joke.
But we're not dating. It's simultaneously more than that and less than that, it's unexplored territory. A new frontier. For me, anyway. I can't speak for her. But I know she really enjoys herself around me. Will it end? I really don't see why it has to. We could be best friends. But that fucking scumbag devil on my shoulder is slipping in questions like "Is she just nervous being in a new place without knowing many people?" I am, after all, I think very approachable and friendly enough.
But it seems to good to be true. And if it seems that way, experience tells me it usually is.
Will I fuck it up by wondering these things? Maybe she really is feeling like I do. Because normally, I wouldn't give a shit. It always takes me a few months to really get comfortable with someone. I can be friendly, yes, but I can be very difficult to get to know when it comes to intimacy. It's a survival thing, I tell myself.
One thing I know for sure is I hope this relationship, whatever level it evolves on, is a fun, caring, and stress free as it can be. I don't want her to get confused by me in even the smallest way. Again, I would normally just let the girl worry about her own feeling and me worry about mine, but I have this urge to see her happy. To see her smile. I have this feeling she deserves it. What the fuck has come over me? When did I wake up and become human?
This is the story of my life.
Is it too obvious that living in the same house will inevitably cause problems?
We eventually kiss. She's a great kisser. We sleep awkwardly. We sleep late. It's Sunday, so fuck it.
Later that day she goes to dinner with her closest family, and I go to dinner with mine.
I'm thinking about her while I'm there. I'm annoyed, as usual, with my family and the massive project it always is having dinner with them.
I go back home.
She's there. I help her move her furniture around, organize a few of there things. Mostly I sit nervously and talk with her. We agree that we really like each other. Or maybe she was just agreeing with me. But I don't think so.
"But I don't want to lead you on. There's a chance I find women more exciting than men, with men it cuts off at a certain point, at least physically, for me," she tells me in here room while putting away her clothes.
I'm holding a cordless, phallic shaped drill in my hands that bend three-quarters of the to the top so you can get in corners or some such nonesense.
I hit a button on the drill and it bends over, going limp. Too easy, I say to myself, and let the limp dick comments pass by.
For some reason, I'm not surprised by what she said and digging the fact that she cared enough to warn me, or tell me, or share. We get into a conversation about sensuality.
For the first time in my life it hits me like a ton of bricks. Sensuality. That's the fucking ticket. She's not really explaining what sensuality is, more just having a conversation about it, but my head is swimming all of a sudden.
It's amazing what happens when you hang out with someone your own age for a change.
Anyway, we talk some more. She likes me and yet she's basically telling me it won't go anywhere. Disregarding the cliched man-type attitude of "I can make her want me, even if she wants a woman, because I'm the man!" I proceed to really, really enjoy talking with her.
I give her a hug and tell her I enjoyed sleeping with her and not having sex more than I would have if we did fuck. She responds with "Good, because I'm not sure if that will happen" It's harmless and honest and I'm not offended in the least by the comment. Another in a long line of fucking mind blowing feelings I'm having with her. I don't even care. I feel like we know each other very well even though we don't. I trust her for some reason when I don't trust anyone. Even before the previous conversation I was thinking less about sex and more about...well...just her.
It's not the challenge, it's not the thrill of the chase, and it's not wanting something you can't have. She's simply very agreeable to my constitution in a way I don't know if I've ever felt.
We go upstairs to my apartment for a sleep-over. She seems to be into that, or me, or the company, or whatever. I don't care. My bed's been empty for too long and I'm practically exploding with the desire to just...well....lay down with her and run my fingers across her back. Why? If only I fucking knew. The story of my life.
We cuddle and touch and talk and kiss and feel and it's a good thing. I could get used to this.
"I could get used to this." I say to her wondering if I'm coming off as clingy when I'm not. And I try to let her know a few times that I'm not trying to "win her over" or something like that. But I think my excitement about her in general is very much obvious.
We sleep in again. We fool around in the morning, my favorite. She tries to leave, but I don't think she really wanted to. I keep her there, trusting my assumption that I'm not pressuring her to stay. We fool around some more. We're getting into it and she's starting to feel guilty over getting me so excited. So she lends me a hand. And a mouth.
Like an asshole I'm worried about the fact that she's doing it to please me and not because she wants to, but because she's nice enough to care about me that way. Or whatever. And so as incredible as out little interlude was, I still was pretty nervous.
I want to make love to her. Badly.I thinks she wants to too. But she doesn't want to. I mean she wants to, but not now. Or ever. But not now. Or maybe never. But, I can tell physically she wants.
I've crossed the line I think. I feel bad and apologize. It's seems to be ok. We spend the rest of the morning talking and laughing and talking some more.
We go to lunch after searching all around town for someplace open. We enjoy each other again. We kid around about getting married and her having a woman on the side. Something completely foreign to me takes over and makes me feel like that would be just fine if we could, actually, start a family together. And it would be fine. Because I'm starting to think that I care about her. And in doing so, I naturally care that she does things that make her happy, even if it is sleeping with other women.
"Well, duh." I hear the devil on my shoulder say to me. "Of course you like that, you typical man." But it's more than that. It's her. She's incredibly easy to be with, smart, sexy, fun, open, adventurous, sensitive, caring. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
No, I'm not falling in love with her. I could, maybe, someday, if I really got to know her. It's just infatuation right now. Yet it's more than that. It's like I got the right side of my brain back after being lost at the cleaners for a few years.. My emotions have come back to me after a long stint on the disabled list.
I'm not falling in love with her, and I really hope she doesn't think that because it would completely scare her off.But damn, my instincts about these things have never failed me before.
Yet, I still wonder how she feels, although she gives me every indication of really caring about me and enjoying me.
It's kind of overwhelming, but I'm determined not to let it get serious and ruin a great thing.
When she left to take a shower before we had lunch, I kept her comforter in my room as a bargaining chip to spend yet another night together.
She sees right through it but leaves it there anyway. We kid about how the past few days seem like weeks. We make all kinds of plans like people do when they start dating someone and they're trying to convince that other person that, yes, we will be seeing a lot of each other so it's okay to make plans. Or maybe it's a joke.
But we're not dating. It's simultaneously more than that and less than that, it's unexplored territory. A new frontier. For me, anyway. I can't speak for her. But I know she really enjoys herself around me. Will it end? I really don't see why it has to. We could be best friends. But that fucking scumbag devil on my shoulder is slipping in questions like "Is she just nervous being in a new place without knowing many people?" I am, after all, I think very approachable and friendly enough.
But it seems to good to be true. And if it seems that way, experience tells me it usually is.
Will I fuck it up by wondering these things? Maybe she really is feeling like I do. Because normally, I wouldn't give a shit. It always takes me a few months to really get comfortable with someone. I can be friendly, yes, but I can be very difficult to get to know when it comes to intimacy. It's a survival thing, I tell myself.
One thing I know for sure is I hope this relationship, whatever level it evolves on, is a fun, caring, and stress free as it can be. I don't want her to get confused by me in even the smallest way. Again, I would normally just let the girl worry about her own feeling and me worry about mine, but I have this urge to see her happy. To see her smile. I have this feeling she deserves it. What the fuck has come over me? When did I wake up and become human?
This is the story of my life.
Is it too obvious that living in the same house will inevitably cause problems?
