Friday, April 22, 2005
Sorry about Wednesday's post not going up right away; I somehow managed to screw things up while adding Blogger comments (because the length limit on the HaloScan ones annoyed me past reason yesterday).
Last night was kind of frustrating. Chet and I were going to hit the opening night screening of Lonesome Jim at the Independent Film Festival of Boston (most of which is actually in Somerville), but since we didn't have passes, we had to wait in the "Rush" line, which, yeah, is a complete contradiction. They didn't actually start selling tickets to us non-passholders until 6:45 (for the 7:00 show), and then the line moved sloooooooooooooooooowly. Around 7:30 (one hopes they held the movie), a theater employee came out and said that the entire 900-seat auditorium was sold out, so we headed out to grab some takeout, then headed back to my place to... uh, to watch the game.
Yeah, to watch the game. I'd sort of figured Maureen wouldn't be around, since she works at one of the hotels where the film festival guests are staying and the concierge types are putting in extra hours, but apparently that won't start until tonight. It's sort of uncomfortable fooling around with someone in the next room under the best of circumstances, but that person being Maureen is hardly the best of circumstances. She's loosened up some, but still doesn't exactly approve of the premarital sex; I kind of think she tells herself that doing it with another girl isn't really having sex, since you can't make a baby that way. (Not that it's really an issue for her right now) And even if she's willing to live and let live, it sort of feels like it would be rude.
So we watched the game, and it was a good one, a 1-0 victory over the Orioles. Chet left during the postgame, kind of frustrated because he knew that Kate and I would be spending a lot of time hanging out this weekend so it would be a few days before his next chance to get laid.
Or at least, I hope he was. I'd like to think I would be, in his position.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Getting some (more)
Okay, didn't actually finish up last night. Also, it probably goes to show that I should probably not post in haste; I didn't mean to make it sound like I was being less-than-flattering of Chet's lovemaking ability. It's just sort of the way I communicate; I've got this almost automatic hitch where I say add "well, not quite perfect" after praise and "not a total loss" after expressing disappointment. Then I go into detail until the point where the person really wishes he'd never asked.
So, let it be said, I worked up a good sweat, came twice, and felt really good afterward. Chet fell asleep right away, but I mind that less than other girls, because I've been there, and, besides, I'm not really big on the snuggling. Being held is nice and all, and becomes more so the longer you've been seeing someone, but when I'm just starting out, it makes me nervous. Until I've built up a rapport with that specific man, sometimes I feel a little weird, or even guilty, post-coital, especially if they don't know my story. Chet does, but I don't know if he believes me.
He made breakfast, which was cool and probably needlessly fattening (although I certainly have made a note of the whole "pancackes topped with french vanilla ice cream" idea), and even knocked and asked if I was decent before opening the bedroom door. Kind of silly, since he'd seen it all, but some guys are like that.
We promised to do it again, then I went, because he had a school thing (he's working on his masters).
Sunday was when Kate and I had our big compare-and-contrast fest. Kate said there was a lot of apologizing at times on Carter's part, like "I used to be bigger". I didn't feel terribly insulted by that because, hey, statement of fact. A little on the weird side, but not that much different than talking about an ex with their current significant other.
I have to say, though, that it feels like coming out of hibernation or something - it got really nice out this week, there's a film festival starting tomorrow, I got to burn off a little sexual energy. Not a bad few days, huh?
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
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.