GIRL 83
INVESTMENT BANKER GIRL
I had found her on my tall, hot, thin blonde search, but she was headed out for vacation just as I got sucked into Girl 82's influence (quite literally). So I found myself in the oddest position of apologizing that I was in a relationship and that I thought she was a beautiful and cool woman nonetheless.
When I and Girl 82 broke it off, it was embarrassing, but I decided to go ahead and announce my reemergence on Match.com. I didn't want Investment Banker Girl to think I'd lied to her. So I wrote her that Girl 82 and I were done, and I was candid with her - I'd made a mistake, and I hoped I'd learned from it.
Investment Banker Girl made a bold decision. She called me within seconds of my sending the email. Perhaps she thought I was hot property and would be sold if she didn't act soon.
So I found myself in a few long, intimate conversations with her and I enjoyed them. She had a sexy smooth voice and an easygoing attitude toward men and dating and sex. And she wasn't bitter about her divorce. Her dating stories were entertaining, and she just seemed adorable.
When she walked into the Princeton Triumph Brew Pub, time stood still for just an instant. She was breathtaking. Perhaps one of the most beautiful women I'd ever been out with, pretty enough to wobble a man's rational thought patterns. And sure enough, I fell hard for her.
At one point, I took both of her hands in mine and said if she'd let me in, I'd be hers like no other man had.
I don't regret gushing all over her. A few minutes after we left, we hung out in the courtyard of the Nassau Inn, in the public square of Princeton, and she straddled me and took my hand and put it under her blouse. As I pinched her nipples, her eyes practically rolled back into her skull. I silently thanked Girl 82 - she'd given me some remedial breast caressing classes, as apparently I was good with the vagina and ass but lacking in the tit squeezing department. After ten minutes of that, Investment Banker Girl wanted to be fingered, and we laughed at how we were getting it on like teenagers when a few actual teenagers walked by, my middle finger busy wiggling in her pussy.
She leaned close, her hot breath in my ear. "I love to be fucked up the ass," she said. "I know you're really into that, and I'm psyched, because I cum really hard when I'm butt-fucked."
You are? Really? I asked. She nodded, her smile that of a woman who knew she'd soon be satisfied.
After I kissed her good-night and walked to my car, I felt like I was there. Girl 83, Investment Banker Girl, was "the One."
She was honest with me that she had another Match date, set for the next day, but she had little hope for it, and she wanted to keep her plans to be polite. But she wanted me, and she considered her search over. I was the guy, she said.
I floated on a cloud. I was the guy. Investment Banker Girl wanted me. And she took it up the ass and loved it. And she was gorgeous. And young - all of 36. A lot of good miles were left on that ass, I thought. My mouth watered at the prospect of bedding her on our second date, which we'd already begun to plan. And in my mind, I was beginning to plan for things much further out than just our second date.
The next day, I called her, and she told me that she'd changed her mind about one thing.
What's that? I asked.
"I'm going to keep dating David while I'm dating you."
David - Label Boy -- was not quite a midget. At four eleven, he had his life challenges. And Investment Banker Girl was 5'7" tall, taller than most. She'd told me that she had no chemistry with Label Boy, that at first she had thought him gay, that he'd lied about his height, his job, where he lived, but that after an all-day date with him at the beach, during which she'd done a considerable amount of kissy-facing (her words, not mine), she wanted to see him some more.
Are you sexually attracted to him? I asked.
"Yes," she said. Her voice was happy.
More than me?
"Oh no," she said. "No one is sexier than you. You're unbelievably sexy."
So why did she want to mess things up dating us both? Jealousy was kicking in.
"Michael, we've just been on one date, we're not in a relationship yet."
Listen, honey, if you want to date Label Boy, go ahead. When you're done with him, call me. Otherwise, I'm not interested.
It was a trump card, butI thought it would win the hand. I was confident. I mean, really, why would she go for midget-man, forked-tongued Label Boy if I - the sexiest - were in the picture?
"Oh come on! Can't I fuck you and Label Boy?"
For a tenth of a second I had a thought, and I gave in to it.
At the same time? Like a threesome?
"Would you be into that?" she asked, uncertain.
I'd do that in a heartbeat, I said. But otherwise, I don't want you to see him.
"You'd watch his dick go into me, but you don't want me going to dinner with him."
It's different if you're playing with him when I'm there, I said. But, only I get your ass. He can only have your mouth or your pussy, and only when I'm already fucking you.
"You're serious, aren't you?" she said. "Your idea of monogamy is saving my anus for your cock?"
That's a simplistic view of things, I said. But I'd just as soon you simply fired him outright.
She said it again. "Michael, come on, just be my fuckbuddy then."
Did I hear her right? Be her fuck friend, get sucked and fucked and ass-fucked, and the only price I'd pay would be that she'd be dating another guy?
Let me get this straight, I thought to myself. I'm passing up sex with a woman this hot, anything I want her body to do she'll willingly do, but I'm passing this by for monogamy? Me?
I looked down at my traitorous penis, Tyrannosaurus Rex. What did he have to say about this? Rex, you gonna let this one go?
Yes, he grumbled, I am. Monogamy is for the woman we date, maybe not for us, but certainly for her.
It astounded even me. I watched as if detached from myself as I let Girl 83 go. Great body, wonderful personality and all, just out of a fit of pique that she wouldn't "go steady" with me.
That's when I realized it.
I was ready for a relationship.
Rex made a sour face. "That's such a chick thing to say," he said.
I know, I replied. But how else to you explain this?
He shrugged. "Look, you're doing a lot better these days. Don't settle for a flaky chick who won't worship us. What does she need another dong for?"
I laughed. Bottom line was I was ready for a relationship and Rex wanted to impress a woman to the point that she worshipped him.
So Rex, you're ready for a relationship too?
Another expression of disgust. "Don't say the damned R-word to me," he muttered. "You can say girlfriend, but not the'R.' "
I hit the computer again within hours, searching for an actual girlfriend. Come on tall, thin, lovely blondes, I thought.
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