As my car turned the corner onto Christian’s darkened street, a light-bulb in my head switched on. Having no idea of his exact address, and noticing the large wooded area directly across from his small abode, I realized how dangerously foolish I was being. I swear, sometimes it’s like my brain is blonde…
(In case you missed reading about my Mind Reader, click here )
Taking a deep breath, I was now playing the role of the stupid, helpless, white girl in every poorly written scary movie. Kristyn’s voice played over in my mind like a broken record, “this is by far the scariest situation you have ever put yourself into.” Almost as if to answer her, I began nodding my head silently.
While contemplating my next move, Christian walked over and opened my car door. Still in a daze with my seatbelt attached, I didn’t move a muscle.
“So…are you gonna get out?” He inquired.
“Well I was thinking about that,” I answered, staring straight ahead into the forlorn forest.
His face contorted into a question mark.
“I just really feel like this is a very unsafe situation and while I think you’re super cute, I’m super worried you’re going to chop me into small pieces and stick me in your basement not unlike John Wayne Gacy, and well I like my body. I’m kind of a fan actually. I’m also really nervous because I feel as though you might write me off after tonight if I go inside with you because I’ve made this dumb choice and also…I’m not going to sleep with you.”
::Sigh:: This was not the first serial killer rant I’ve had on a date. It’s embarrassing really.
Christian was now fully aware of my anxiety. He began speaking in a slow and monotone voice.
“We’re going to watch Garfunkel and Oats. We’re not going to have sex. And I cross my heart, swear on my children I will not hurt you.”
Unbuckling my seat belt I slowly made my way out of the car. I looked up at his eyes which seemed much kinder than they had been at the bar, and laughed nervously.
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s just hope you’re telling the truth about even having kids.”
Christian smiled while wrapping his arm around my waist pulling me into him.
“Kiss me,” he directed.
My hand cupped his face as his lips met mine and I allowed my body to melt into him. His kiss made my knees weak and as we pulled away from each other I knew I would be kissing him again before the end of the night.
His house was small with low ceilings and the décor was straight out of the 1960’s. It smelled as though at least three cats were co-inhabitants, and there were two large fish tanks strategically placed within the living room. Christian’s tiny cubby hole had character. I liked it.
We sat on his couch and watched two episodes of Garfunkel and Oates just as Christian had promised. I adore both of the starring actresses and the sense of humor is just my style.
“How did he know I would love this?” I asked myself.
The second episode ended, and before I knew it, Christian was kissing me intensely. My hands were on top of his head moving their way down to his chest very slowly. I straddled his lap and suddenly he grabbed my ass, picked me up and was now carrying me to what I could only assume was his bedroom.
“No sex my ass!” I thought to myself.
He lowered me slowly onto his bed and then laid down beside me. His hand began to travel up my skirt, and he commented on how wet I was. After making me cum twice with just his fingers he licked me like no one ever had before…dear god this man had skills.
After two more orgasms, he resurfaced and lay there silently smiling. I on the other hand was breathing heavily (my heavy after-orgasm breathing usually sounds like dry heaving…super attractive. I recommend it). Turns out Christian got off on pleasing a woman in any way, shape, or form. He assured me he was happy and so we spent the next hour just talking.
Christian had been divorced for about three years. He had one serious relationship after his divorce and while he didn’t provide details, I knew that she had broken his heart.
Rather than diving into my emotional baggage, I provided him with the cliff note version of my previous relationships and then asked him a question.
“So, what are you looking for exactly?”
It’s not a question I usually ask men the first time meeting them. I like to get a feel for what I want from them first before diving into anything too serious. But Christian’s response was perfect in my opinion and the eloquence to his words resonates with me even now.
“I refuse to settle. I want it all.” He answered. “What are you looking for?”
Turning my head from the ceiling and meeting his gaze, the thought erupted from my mouth more clearly than ever before.
“There’s something to be said for finding the entire package. I refuse to accept anything less.”
Christian pulled me into him and offered for me to stay the night. However, due to my work schedule, my sleep pattern was anything but normal. I explained to him that I’d most likely be awake for most the night and being that it was 2am and he had to wake up at 6am, it would be best if I left.
He walked me to his door, kissed me on the cheek, and said we would make plans for a movie date soon.
As I walked to my car that night I thought about his lips, and I smiled.