Every time I try to tell this story, I stop myself. Maybe out of embarrassment, or confusion or over-analytical-ness. There's so much going on in my head even now that I can't put into words, so for now I'm just going to give you the facts.
I ran into a familiar face at the bar Friday night. I was not at my usual bar, I was somewhere else, with Daniel. I was worrying about how I'd be getting home when I noticed this guy: Leo, Cyndi's boyfriend.
The amount of irritation I felt at this point was unbearable. If he was there, I reasoned she must be nearby. I wanted to find her and scream at her, call her out for being a two-faced bitch. We've just been giving each other the cold shoulder at work, but having a few drinks in me made me somewhat belligerent. So I went over to his table and asked where she was. Demanded to know.
He said, laconically, that he didn't know, and took a sip. I asked why not, and he said "Probably because she's not my girlfriend, she's my ex."
That took the wind out of me.
I didn't know Leo very well, but on the occasions that I'd talked to him, I thought he was a good dude. Quite polite, kinda funny, a bit of a sci-fi fan. Someone I probably would've liked, as Cliff. But it takes a minute for rage to dissipate, so I just stood there in my skirt feeling awkward for a minute before he asked if I'd like to have a drink. It was last call and I was out of money.
When you're a girl, being out of money doesn't necessarily mean you don't drink any more.
He went over the general details of his break-up with Cyndi, which pretty much conformed to my opinion that she's just a bitch who isn't good with people. He wondered why he had put up with her so long, and I told him it's okay, guys often make fools of themselves for a hot girl who isn't worth it. I said that a number of guys had done that for me, thinking of Buddy in particular.
He said he disagreed that I "wasn't worth it." This was the first of a number of not-so-subtle flirtations between him and me.
He offered to split a cab back home. As we live in opposite directions, I made an alternative proposal, and asked whether he'd be interested in having a drink at my place. He declined, saying he had to be up early to go golfing the next day.
So he suggested his place.
In the cab on the way over, I had a lot of time to try to gather my wits and figure out what my endgame was. What did I hope to achieve? I still hadn't figured it out when we got to the door, even though he had his arm around me.
The moment we got inside, without hesitation, I kissed him. Why dance around it? Why stall? That was what I'd come for. That was what I wanted. I don't know why I wanted it or what it means that I wanted it, but there we were, his lips on mine, my neck bent up at his 6' face. His arms wrapped low around my hips, fingers just at the edge of my bum. A little voice in my head going "Go, girl!"
It wasn't terribly romantic. Maybe even a bit rushed. We were on his couch soon, making out like a couple of over-eager tenth graders (not that I'd know, I was more into computer club back then.) The whole time, part of my mind keeps going "What now, what next??" while the other part is screaming "More!!"
He indicated his bedroom. I said okay, let's go. When we got in, I began to undress, very hurriedly. I was down to my bra and panties when he said "Hold on. You know this isn't serious right?"
"I mean, just a fling. Casual. Rebound stuff."
"Oh. Yeah. Sure." It felt odd to me -- I don't know what I was expecting, or why I was disappointed that he didn't want it to be "serious." But I pushed that thought aside and went over to him. He was in his boxers. The sight definitely has a different effect on me than it used to.
I made a grab for it. His thing. Felt so silly, holding it from this angle, trying to treat it delicately. It was intimidating, and weird and... not wrong but just so unreal-looking from this angle. It was a perspective I've tried to imagine many times, but was still unprepared for.
I took a look at it. As hot as I was, the rational, over-analytical part of my brain had to break the moment. "Nnn... not that. not yet. Third. Third base. Okay?"
He looked at me, at first a little put-off, but ultimately accepting. "Okay." He pulled my panties off and put his head between my legs and... oh lord... I've never felt like such a girl, squealing and moaning, not necessarily because he was doing such a good job, but because he was there, not me by myself.
After a while, I began to feel guilty for the whole thing being one-sided. When I felt like he'd reached a good stopping point, I told him "okay!" and he pulled his head up. Then I had to figure out how to hold up my end of the bargain. I'd already ruled out one way. The other ways scared me just as much. Maybe I'm just naive, since other girls seem perfectly fine with this, and considering what he'd just done for me, reciprocation seemed polite.
With it looking me right in the eye, I made a split decision, and I... I licked it. Like an ice cream cone. I don't know if that's how it's supposed to be done, since I never even got one, but I stalled with that as long as I could, while I thought "Am I really just supposed to shove it in my mouth? Is that... do people like that?" Mostly, I just used my hand. And then after a minute, I began to think "Shit, he knows I'm doing it wrong, he totally knows!" and just as I was getting ready to bite the bullet (so to speak: I know you're not actually supposed to bite) he came. Just like that. A little bit got on me and I tried not to be too grossed out.
I just stared at it, as it went limp in my hand. How odd. It all felt so familiar, yet so far away. As he groaned quietly to himself my mind re-asserted itself and told me I had just made some kind of big step. There wasn't a whole lot of doubt that I'd enjoyed it, but it didn't stop me from wondering what it was all supposed to mean.
I ended up sleeping there, next to him, in my panties and undershirt. For half the night he kept his arm around me and I couldn't sleep. Then he slipped it out and rolled over to his other side and I was finally able to drift off. When I woke up, he had rolled back over and was poking me.
As he and I dressed, we discussed the terms of our, uh, actions. We decided it would be best if we didn't go talking about this, because neither of us wanted the drama that would follow, especially if it got back to Cyndi. Personally, even though Sara and Raine already think of me as a rather sexual being, I still felt like I'd be embarrassed if they knew what I'd done. It was one thing for them to have knowledge of the old Tori's deeds, but this new one is... well, I just didn't want to deal with it.
But it's done. Whether he and I will be doing it again, I don't know. He hasn't called. I'm kind of dreading it, if he does. It all happened so fast, I'm not sure what he thinks of me now, and if I regret anything, it's that this is the first time I've really fit the stereotype of what people think when they see me.
But I did enjoy the feeling of having someone physically... tending to me. I've resisted it so long because I'm so suspicious of what kinds of guys I've been attracting, but the game might be changed.
On Sunday, I sent an e-mail to Buddy. I had been thinking about him all weekend, about how close we came to being a thing, but because I was still almost-a-guy-again, I resisted. Now that that's not the case, I just... well, I wanted to check in on him.
He hasn't gotten back to me yet.