We often think about how things started between and how crazy they were. I won't give too much details here of course, but I still feel like writing about it. I don't feel like writing about anything related to her job now.
We did not really hit it off right away the first time we met. Actually we remained distant, because that's how we both are. But apparently she thought I was super cute and she, well, wanted to fck me. I said already she used to date a lot of people and to be sort of a player. I just thought she was way out of my league, and found her way too hot and beautiful for me to even dare thinking I'd have a chance. And yet we hooked up. We barely had spoken a few sentences to each other when that happened.
We were at a friend of a friend of a friend's private party, and had nothing better to do that just drink. Of course, alcohol is always your best ally when you want to end up in bed with someone for no real purpose. Though I was not thinking about it at all, and she just seemed already quite drunk. And then at some point, while we were just chatting on a couch, we barely kissed, almost as if we both leaned and came close to each other by mistakes. We were talking of random things because there was no one around, and we didn't seem to have much in common (except maybe whiskey and liking to get people started on border-line politically-engaged talks). That came as a surprise. There was what seemed to be a very long pause, where I probably looked terrified and where she hesitated before she started smiling a little (that my friends, would be the player's instinct rushing back :)). And we both got up as if to pretend that did not happen and went to a nearby table to get another drink (can't even remember if my glass was empty. We just needed a way out of the moment.)
And then, after a awkward silence pouring glasses and looking in each other's eyes, as a the sound system started barking a new song, she grabbed me and kissed me. Or I grabbed her and kissed her. We still fight about that all the time. What I do know from my point of view, it's that I thought she started it and I had 2 tiny voices in my head saying "the Hell with it, if that girl diggs you, you just *cannot* dodge the bullet or you will hate yourself", and "yeah, on the other, she looks fairly baked and drunk already...". I decided the first voice had the strongest point, and that if it came to a more intimate situation, I would follow voice number two and bail out like a gentleman (and hate myself, yes...).
So I remember grabbing her, that we sort of danced, though that probably looked like a couple of drunk monkeys rolling in the middle of room, and moved back to the couch where we crashed without letting go of each other and stopping kissing.
Then I remember that went for a while and decided to move it to one of the bed-rooms, that we threw out everything that was in there, so that no one would come disturb us. We were in a completely frenzy. And then she took me against a wall (which in the morning revealed itself as a dresser's door in bad shape...) and started kissing my neck (at which point you usually start thinking "ohhhh, gooodd"). And then voice 2 came back to me, and my own voice from my teenage years where I promised myself never to take advantage of a girl. Well I really hope I didn't that night. G. still picks on me too, saying she actually was super-drunk and doesn't remember much of the details, except that I kissed her first, and that she had a great night. That's sort of nice to hear, and on the other, I feel like shit every time she says it. Sweetness... But I looked at her and thought voice 2 was dead wrong. That girl was not that drunk! Hey we made it without falling to the bedroom, though without looking, that's a strong argument in favor of the sober-state, isn't it?
We had the craziest night ever. The scariest too, at least for me. G. was definitely more experienced than me (well that's often been the case with my ex-es anyway, and I never once had a comment about it being awkward. So, though I assume the previous one was probably kind to spare my feelings, I guess I did OK with what I knew about, you know, the stuff and how it works). Anyway, I was scared shitless because she was so beautiful, and so bad, and so mad, and so all over me, and that it had been such a long time. I was, on the inside, completely freaked out. On the outside, I managed to take back (some) control from the beast...
The rest of the memories is too private (and a bit confused). I remember people knocking on the door and us telling them to fuck off (obviously). I remember a crazy undressing session. I remember a bed, a carpet, a desk (students' rooms are handy). I remember that we kept going until I finally got a clear sign that she was over.
And I remember being kicked out of the room.
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Posted By H to
My Girlfriend is an Escort at 2/28/2009 11:30:00 PM