Transplanted Life
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Getting some
So, let's get to what anyone who read that last post is wondering about: Yes, I got laid Friday night. And so did Kate. Though not together, as that would have been weird, and despite how surreal the concept of me sleeping with guys is at times, I'm actually not really into the kinky beyond that.

The date itself was kind of weird. I accept that if I'm ever going to be comfortable in the same room as Carter, it won't be soon. It's getting easier, though. Carter has gotten his hair cut closer than I ever tended to, or he's just more conscientious about it - I would wait until it was getting in my eyes or just really sweaty. As an aside, now that I can just put it in a clip or a scrunchie and nobody will rag on me about it being long anyway, I haven't actually had a haircut almost two years ago. Also, after five months in that body, his fondness for exercise has filled him out. I know how that body gains weight, so he must really be hitting the gym hard.

Anyway, he's starting to look different, but still, it's weird, and every once in a while I'd find myself looking at him and feel uncomfortable, and I'd force myself to refocus my attention on my own date, take a deep breath, run my fingers through my hair or adjust my bra, just to remind myself of who I am now.

So, the movie was fun, we walked past a happy Fenway to get to the Landsdowne street clubs, got some drinks and went dancing. I think Chet noticed that Carter was making me nervous, since I seemed kind of distracted. I told him it was his lucky day, that I felt the urge to prove my womanhood, and we went back to his place.

And it was good. Not the best I've had, but not the worst. It felt great, though - it's been long enough since the last time someone else has pleasured me that I'd have to go through this blog to figure out how many month's it's been. He teased me about how he figured someone with my knowledge of what a guy likes would be a little more adventuous in bed, but I pointed out that knowing what a man likes doesn't mean having either the skills or inclination to do it.

Well, I hate blogs with cliffhangers (insert joke about having already gotten past the climax here), but I've got to catch my train. I'll finish up while watching the game at home.

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