Friday, January 29, 2016

Glenn (Peter Malinowski): My first date with my "wife"

Because our "family" is just a loosely organized group of unrelated transformed people, Leon, Cathy and I felt free to not stress out too badly over the holidays. We did make visits to both Peter's and Meredith's parents, but at the risk of being a bit rude, we didn't stay very long. Cathy spent Christmas Day with his "girlfriend" while Leon and I slept in.

Peter's job as an executive with a financial institution keeps me pretty busy and causes me to work long hours, so we had to put off our first "date" until the week of Christmas. Leon didn't seem to mind: even though we had agreed we were going to try to be some kind of "couple," whenever I brought up the subject he became very dodgy, like he was having second thoughts. I don't blame him, but in the time it took me to get used to the idea I started to become very intrigued.

Leon, for all his rough edges, is a nice person, and like me, deserves some love. I feel for him. If he could keep on the straight and narrow, he would make some woman very happy, I'm sure. Strangely, even though it drove him to drink, the transformation has really curbed his more self-destructive qualities. I guess seeming to be part of a family is better than no family at all.

So, that first date. Leon didn't want anything fancy, despite my ability to pay for it. We went into the city to a pub. He wore "mom" jeans and a flannel overshirt. I was just going to wear my suit from work but he insisted I get more casual, so I wore a polo shirt and jeans of my own.

"You look like such a dad," he snickered, with this weird smile. It was... cute, actually.

"Sorry, I don't know how to dress for this. I haven't been on a date in a while," I mumbled.

"Oh yeah and I'm a real pro at this lipstick and shit," he said, crossing his arms.

"You don't have to wear any makeup," I said.

"Thanks for your permission," he sighed, "Do I look like I'm wearing any?" He didn't. He had also cut his hair short like Jamie Lee Curtis. It's not how I usually like women, but nothing about this is "usual." From Leon's account, he doesn't like that look on (other) women either since he said he looked like a lesbian... actually using a "d"-word I would rather not repeat.

We got to the bar and were seated. I wasn't sure what to say so I started with small talk: "So... how's it going?"

Leon immediately shut me down, "Jesus, Glenn, we live together, you know how it's going."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to strike up a conversation!"

"Nah I'm sorry," he said, "Let's just have some drinks and we'll talk." It seemed like he might have started already, but I didn't say anything.

We were served a couple of Buds and I think just having a drink to hold loosened him up. I began to ask about less current things: "When was the last time you had a first date?"

"Depends what you mean by date," he laughed, "I've banged a lotta chicks, mostly I pick 'em up at bars like this."

"Okay, but when was the last time you met someone and wanted to impress them? Really spend time with them?"

"It'll take a few more drinks before I pour my heart out to you, Stevenson," he said, "Nice try, though."

"It's been three years for me," I volunteered, "I took her to the museum."

"Pfft," he said, "Bet you didn't get any afterward."

"Eventually," I insisted, "Just not that night. I wasn't planning on it. I was taking my time."

"Chicks like a guy who takes charge. You take your time, that's just more time for her to decide she don't like you. Get in and get out."

"Guessing you weren't looking to re-marry," I surmised.

"Fuck no," he said. "Maybe if I met the right girl. If she was young and hot."

"I'm more of a romantic, I guess," I said, "But I haven't been as interested lately. I stopped trying."

"Well, you don't have to try with me," he said, "We're going home together anyway, so relax. Worst case scenario... we have one bad screw and I never ask you again."

"So you really want to do this," I said.

"I said I did, didn't I? Stop asking," he snapped, "You gotta learn to take yes for an answer, Glennbo."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't think you would just... I mean, you basically just guaranteed it."

"Look at it this way," he said, "I'm doing you a favor no other woman ever would. No games. I fuckin' want it, all right? So don't doubt it, just relax and be yourself and we'll have a good time... and don't fuck this up for yourself by being a clownshoe about it."

They were pretty harsh words, and he must have noticed, because his attitude softened. "ugh, sorry about that, bro... I'm just feeling really gross. Bloated and gassy and shit. Got the red visitor yesterday, know what I mean?"

"You're on your period?" I asked, "Do you want to... postpone?"

"Fuck that..." he said, "What are you, some kinda pussy that never fucked a chick on the rag? Just man up and do it. No wonder you're divorced."

I was beginning to think this was a bad idea, but things went a little better. As "promised" Leon opened up a bit more the more drinks we had. We shot some pool, which I won and he blamed on his short arms. As we drank a bit more, we started brushing our hands against each other, trying eke towards some more intimate contact. Even with his assurances about the outcome, I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself, but I knew things were going well when he whispered in my ear that he thought I smelled good. We took a cab home around 11.

We got to the front door and he stopped me. "Hey," he said. "Kiss me already."

I wanted to ask if he was sure, but of course he was. I put my arms around him and leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

They were... well, a bit chapped and rough and thin, but it was a kiss. A nice long one.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said when it was done.

"No, no," I said, a bit speechless. "Pretty good. I liked it."

"Then you're gonna like this," he said, slowly disrobing. Conventionally, Meredith doesn't have the kind of body you fantasize about, but here I was in the presence of a naked woman, bare breasts and all, pressing herself into me, letting me fondle and touch everything I wanted.

Maybe it was beer goggles, maybe because he was seriously laying on the flirtation and I was falling for it and having fun with a member of the opposite sex for the first time in years, but at that point in the night, I was very willing and ready to follow through with the idea.

Well, most of me was.

A lot of guys in their 40s don't perform the way they used to. I don't remember having any trouble in my normal life, but it has been a while... the only time I "used" that function of my body was for my own benefit, so I haven't had to perform on command in a long while. I don't know if it's Peter's problem or mine.

We proceeded for a while, and even made a tentative start, but I couldn't go through with it. I felt really ashamed and embarrassed and it was clear Leon wasn't pleased, either, taking it personally despite my assurances that he looked very good.

I was ready to slink off to my own bed for the night, when Leon stopped me. "Just... fuckin' stay a while, ok? I don't wanna be alone right now and you're the only thing I got."

It wasn't the most romantic, but I agreed I would be just too sad to go to bed alone at that point so I stayed and lay down next to him.

We laid there quietly for a minute, spooning, my arms around him until my left arm fell asleep beneath him. I began to run my right hand over his hips and butt. He moaned, sleepily, "that feels good... keep doing it." I did, expanding my radius to include the breasts and shoulders.

Suddenly, I felt something. I moved my hand over to between his legs. Coyly, he asked, "Wha tare you up to, back there?"

I took a deep breath. I didn't want to jinx it. "Leon, I think I'm ready."

He rolled over and placed his hand on my groin to verify. He enclosed his hand around, and smirked in the darkness, "Is that for me?"

"Yeah... I think it is."

He rolled me over so that I was on top. Our parts teased each other. My heartbeat quickened.

He whispered in my ear, "When we do it... call me Meredith."

"Ok."

We finally started and I did my best to forget that this was a person who, several months ago, was wearing denim jackets with the sleeves cut off and rocking a dirty trucker mustache. I tried not to watch her face too judgmentally as she felt all these new sensations come over her and determine whether they were good or not. All I wanted was to perform my role as best I could.

It lasted only a couple of minutes... embarrassingly, even as I attempted to pace myself, the sensation overloaded me and just as Meredith's grunts of awkwardness seemed to morph into moans of pleasure, I was done.

We didn't talk for minutes on end afterward. Eventually after we had untangled ourselves, he said with a shrug, "That wasn't too bad I guess. I could see it being good. Think you can do better next time?"

"I really hope so."

"You better."

That sounded like a bit of a threat - like he would actually "cheat" on me, which would feel very unfair after having started this. But I'm happy to report that when we revisited the issue, most of my performance issues started to fade away. I feel like it could be better for "Meredith," but I know I've gotten better than that first time.

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