Saturday, February 10, 2007

Ashlyn--Fourth thing on my list

Okay, just be clear, number four on my list of things to do is not “to have sex”—closer to the truth would be “being open minded to the possibilities of having sex”. The difference being I’m not going to sleep with just anyone.

It’s been a month since I slept with Jean-Michel. At the time, I thought it was going to be a “one time” experience—satisfy my curiosity and be done with it. But that was before I knew I was going to be Ashlyn forever. I was also surprised by how much I enjoyed sex with Jean-Michel, he knew just the right things to do to bring out the most pleasure in my body—but then he should, it was his body not long ago.

So I’ve decided to a). Be open minded and b). Put myself out there.

I get hit on a lot. It’s the boobs—it draws men to me like moths to a flame. I have gotten fairly proficient at turning guys away in the last few months; it’s almost become a reflex. A guy walks up gives me some kind of line, I pleasantly tell him to get lost.

BTW—As a former member of the male club, I offer this little piece of advice to any guys reading this blog: Nothing is more annoying than old, tired, often used pick up lines. It isn’t just me that feels this way—we women talk, fellas. I’ve only been a woman for about five months, but I’ve sat in several conversations that went like: “You wouldn’t believe what a bad line this guy gave me last night” And then they compare notes for the next half hour. My advice? Be original. Be funny. And don’t say something like “Do you wash your pants with Windex? Because I can really see myself in them.” It’s girl kryptonite.

Anyway—I’ve decided to open minded, if not down right friendly, when approached by guys.

Which brings me to Friday morning.

I like being attractive. I am of the opinion that being attractive is ½ good genes and ½ really working at it. I work out almost every day. I wasn’t much into exercise as Jake, but then again I didn’t have the ½ good genes as incentive. So like I often do, I jogged over to the fire station where Logan, one of my roommates, is a fireman. There is a small workout room at the station which I have been allowed to use.

I get a “Hello Red!” from one of the guys as I walk in. Several guys were in the main bay of the biggest engine. They were loading and unloading things into it.

I wave, and then I am immediately accosted by cat calls and whistles. I’ve gotten used to the light hearted flirting the guys do every time I make an appearance.

“Hey Ash, when are you going to quit denying your feelings for me?” Mike, the portly chief of the house, yelled out to me playfully.

“I’ve never denied them Mike; I just think your wife would object if I acted on my feelings.” I dazzle them with a smile and a wink and walk past them to the weight room.

Logan had spent the night at the station which he does from time to time. He is my workout buddy, and he had already worked up a pretty good sweat.

Logan is a good-looking guy. He’s tall, has dark hair, works out all the time and looks it. I find it interesting that I am generally unaffected by men’s appearances—I purposely give Logan a once over and get nothing. However, I mentally take it to the next level and imagine him kissing me, undressing me and running his hands over me—that has a response. I could feel my body reacting. I wonder what that means?

“You started the workout without me.” I say to him.

“I didn’t get the jog over, so I’m just catching up. Besides I needed a tougher workout, I wanted to clear my head.”

I really don’t know my roommates very well. When I thought I was going back to my old life someday I purposely kept them at a distance—it became a routine, maybe I should change that now that I’m not going anywhere. I guess I know Logan the best, because of our morning workouts. I knew “wanting to clear my head” was code for “I need to talk to someone”.

I get us both bottled waters, and I sit down across from him.

He tells me that he and his latest girlfriend had just broken up. I think I might have seen her around the house. It would be difficult to be certain; Logan goes through girlfriends like most people go through those little bags of chips.

“Was she something special?” I ask.

He sighs. “That’s the problem. She wasn’t. It’s been a while since any of them has been ‘special’—and I can’t seem to keep a relationship going for more than a month, I’m beginning to think there is something wrong with me.”

“Dude, I’ve seen the women you been parading through the house, a lot of guys would say you are doing alright.” Hmmm….girls say “dude” right?

“Maybe.” He sighs. “Maybe I want something more.”

It was at this moment when someone new walks in. He too was tall and well built—and young, he appeared to be in his early twenties. I guess that makes him my age.

“I’m making breakfast. Pancakes. You guys interested?” The new guy looked me over and gave me a smile. I smile back—its part of my new way of dealing with guys.
“I’m Matt Armstrong,” He says, offering me his hand for a handshake. I give him one of my patented girly handshakes. “You must be Ashlyn.” He says to me.

“I am. How did you know?” I ask.

“Everyone talks about the hot babe with the red hair that comes in to use our workout equipment. You fit the description. You in for pancakes? I’m making peanut butter and banana.” Matt can’t stop grinning at me.

“Um—it sounds really tempting, but I think I’ll stick to my boring yogurt and fruit. Thanks anyway.”

“Matt just passed his physical and oral exams. He’s the new guy here.” Logan piped in.

“Very cool. It’s nice to meet you Matt.” I head over to the treadmill, turn it on and start running.

Still grinning, Matt waved bye and headed out.

I was halfway through my workout when something else new happened: the fire alarm went off. The place exploded with activity. Logan jumped up and ran out of the room. Guys were putting on protective clothing and loading into the main engine. In moments the engines lights were flashing and it rolled out of the station. Several smaller trucks followed.

I made sure I was not in the way, and watched the whole process happen. It was inspiring. I stood there a moment, impressed. Matt appeared and walked up to me.

“That was awesome.” I say to him. “You didn’t go with them?”

“Too new.” He says.

“What kind of fire?” I ask.

“Two Alarm.” He pauses. “Are you done with your workout?”

“I guess so.” I couldn’t see going back to a workout after the excitement.

“Then you can have breakfast with me.” He brought out a yogurt smoothie and an apple.

I give him a look and remembered my new plan to be open minded. “You are persistent.”

“In a good way.” He says.

“Alright, new guy. Let’s have breakfast.”
We sat in the dining room which was a huge mess as the alarm came in the middle of breakfast.

One of the downsides to being a girl is eating like a girl. While Matt dined on a large stack of pancakes, I drank a smoothie and ate an apple--And the pancakes smelled so good.

Matt turned out to be a funny guy, and couldn’t believe it when I was able to keep up with him when he talked sports. I’m mostly a basketball guy—er, girl—but I usually keep up with the top 3, which for me are basketball, football and baseball. I may have to get more into baseball; Ashlyn is known to be a big Redsox fan and people may think it may be strange if I only take a cursory interest.

It didn’t take me long to finish my breakfast, but I stuck around and talked to Matt as he finished his—besides I was enjoying the conversation.

“Thanks for breakfast.” I say as we finish up.

“Thanks for the company.” He says. “I don’t suppose you would like to do this again, but properly—would you like to go out? Get a proper meal?” He gives me his grin again.

I remind myself: a). Be open minded b.) Put myself out there.

I hesitate, but then give him a big smile. “Sure, I’d love to.” We make plans, and I give him my cell phone number.

God help me, I have a date tonight.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I may have to get more into baseball; Ashlyn is known to be a big Redsox fan and people may think it may be strange if I only take a cursory interest.

And here I thought Ashlyn was a hockey fan. Or at least, a hockey player fan.