What’s crackalakin? I tell you what, I am now entirely ensconced in winter warmer mode, and of course by winter warmer I mean hot naked man with minimal stickiness. This winter though I’m looking for something more. Usually I can be quite content to enjoy a cheeky seasonal session, but this year I’m feeling my age (a massive 26) and I think it’s time to find a keeper. So, how to find a man quick smart? That’s where the world wide web comes in. I’m not on one dating site, I’m on four. That’s right Lover’s, this year I’m not leaving anything to chance! Bumble, Plenty of Fish, Tinder and for the very first time E- Harmony. Urgh, I know it sucks to pay to date people but I figure now that I’m slowly nearing the top of the hill I’d better find someone good before I start to topple down the other side. (Probably weighed down by my gravity enduced saggy boobs by that point.) So stay tuned for more exciting dating adventures there!
But tonight it’s back to Rick and all the excitement (and tears) he brought. So just remember, we’d had an amazing date, and I was already thinking of what I would name our first child.
The next day was full of flashbacks. The kissing, the conversation, all that witty banter! My face was permanently stamped with the dopiest grin possible. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. His face, his smile and oh god his body. My phone was set to vibrate in my pocket and whenever I received a message it threatened to send me over the edge.
He messaged me that afternoon and we set up another date for the night after. I admit I was terrified. Was that one date just a fluke? Had he been a dating mirage I had dreamed up? And what was worse, I was meeting him at his house, which meant I was to meet…the parents. Horror of horrors, they were divorced. For me this was quite a new experience. Whenever meeting the “elders” I would always address them as Mr or Mrs or even Miss, but never EVER the first name! On the drive over to his house I racked my brains trying to think of titles for his Mum. Ma’am was too formal, Chicky-babe far to informal and saying “Hello Rick’s Mother” just seemed like a recipe for disaster. So concerned about this most terrible of problems was I, that I ended up at the wrong house, very awkwardly asking a lovely Indian woman if her son or possibly her nephew was at home. Luckily Rick had spotted me from across the street and waved me over before I was ensconced into an arranged marriage.
It felt right walking with him, and when he opened the door and introduced me to his Mother I felt calm and at ease. We got along straight away, with her offering me a cigarette in the first couple of seconds of our exchange. I worried I might offend her if I didn’t take it but Rick saved me once again by quickly informing her that I didn’t smoke.
She took it well, and told me if I did ever want to start up, she’d be here. Um, great. But then it was time for the tour of the house, or more importantly, Rick’s bedroom. You can tell an amazing amount about a guy from his room. I had never been to Charlie’s house so his room remains veiled in mystery to this day. (Although I assume it was mostly covered in pictures of his wife and children. Bit of a mood killer with the ladies I’m sure.)
Rick’s room was almost a granny flat really. It was tacked onto the side of the house and had a nice sense of privacy about it. Brick walls, plain blue bedspread (Navy, not baby blue thank goodness.) a computer by the wall and some music posters tacked up in the corners above his chest of drawers.
Simple. Efficient. Manly. We didn’t simply fall onto the bed and start making out with wild abandon as I had imagined. It was even better than that. We talked and talked and talked. I know any boys reading this must be thinking “What a pansy, he’s clearly gay.” But I tell you, it was the single biggest turn on I have discovered to date. We would chat about one thing or another, then break off to get our pash on, before drying off and changing to another subject. Before I knew it, it was one o’clock. Rick asked me if I wanted to stay over and I simply couldn’t find it in me to refuse. It was Winter after all, and when faced with the choice of snuggling up with a gorgeous man and going home to a cold bed, you can imagine which option was the more appealing. I was a little concerned however, as staying over can often lead to what some people refer to as ‘special cuddles.’ In lamens terms, ‘hot second date all out sex.’ Now you must remember I was a very green eighteen year old, so the very idea of hot second date sex sent me running for the hills. I couldn’t see Rick naked! Even if I really really wanted to. It just wouldn’t be right… Would it?
Luckily for me my Rick was once again that perfect gentleman. We slept together for the first time that night. Fully clothed. Ah bliss. I mean sure, he took my bra off but I was practically begging for it by then. All that sweet talk was such foreplay! I got to keep my shirt on though, and we lay there in contented spoonfulness for the next seven hours.
So that was date two, and my oh my were things going swell! We went on several more dates. The movies, dinner, the beach, basically hitting all the key dating places. I met his Mum’s boyfriend, (a rather large but loveable truckie) his good mates, (weed smoking losers. Of course I didn’t mention how I felt about them at the time. Not the best start to a budding relationship.) and then finally, it was time!
Granted, the time he chose was not exactly perfect, but when the mood hits and you’ve had a couple of stubbies, you’ve just got to go with it. We were outside on the patio, soaking up some moon beams. His friends and his Mother were with us and everyone was drinking and having a good time. Rick was looking at me all lovey dovey and dragging me into his lap, telling me how happy he was. Oh yes, from where I was on his lap I could tell exactly just how happy he was.
And that’s when the bong came out. Yuck. If there is one thing I hate more than getting shat on by birds, its drugs. Maybe I’m old school, maybe I’m not living in the now or I’m a total nerd, but what I do know, is that nothing good ever comes of any drug. Well except maybe for the odd butter menthol, god those are good. Rick and I had already had the drug discussion-
Oh, this might be a good time to mention that my boyfriend was a drug dealer. What a kick in the pants huh? Turns out no one’s perfect. I rationalised his “extra curricular activities” by noting that he didn’t sell any hard drugs, just pot, and that he was just doing it to get through a bit of a tight stage of his life.
Anyways, out comes the bong, away goes Claire’s libido. I hate the smell, so even though Rick was being ‘good’ and not partaking, I was what you would call “not happy Jan.” Fortunately for Rick, he wasn’t entirely stupid, and sensed my innate displeasure at where the night had gone. Desperate to rekindle my previous jovial mood, Rick decided it was time for bed. I was overjoyed at this suggestion. He knew bedtime was my favourite time of any day. There is no experience more fantastically amazing to me than snuggling up with someone special, blankets pulled up to your chin, feet tangled together at the end of the mattress, just lying there enjoying each other. I know I may shock some readers with this omission, but I enjoy this feeling more than sex. Hell, more than chocolate even. Although snuggling in bed after having sex coated in chocolate would have to be the ultimate fantasy. I jumped from my seat, barely concealing my delight, bid goodnight to his friends and his Mum, and scurried into his bedroom.
Oh joy of joys, an entire night of snuggle time! But this time, something was in the air. I think you would call them pheromones, but to my slightly tipsy brain they may as well have been tiny snuggle fairies, come just in time to tuck us in. Rick followed me in and shut the door gently behind him. It didn’t do much. We could still hear the raucous laughter of his mates clear as a bell, but it didn’t matter, we were too far gone at that point. He walked up to me and planted the sweetest kiss right on my smacker. It started off all soft and delicious, but as he continued it got rougher and more urgent. Kind of like when you suck on a malteaser I guess, being all gentle for the gooey chocolate exterior, but when reaching the malt centre, crunching down with glee. I enjoyed every second of it. We were attached at the lips for who knows how long, not even breaking apart for him to swipe all the clothes off his bed. When he did pull back to yank his shirt off I was most displeased, and made him pay for it in all sorts of wicked ways. (Nothing too R Rated though, remember I was still a newbie to this whole seduction thing.) Eventually we were down to underwear and ooh was it nice. The whole grinding experience I had enjoyed with my few other men was nothing compared to this exotic horizontal dance I seemed to be embroiled in. I could feel Rick’s excitement growing too as his Calvin Kleins began to stretch to their limits. It was at that moment I realised the trouble I was in. Boy did I want to sleep with him. More than anything. I wanted to have his lovely tattooed chest above me with that creepy Ent tree thing covered with my hands. The only problem was… Rick was huge! Yes it’s true that I hadn’t had much experience in that area at that particular juncture of my life, but even though I had never actually seen Charlie’s baby-maker, I sure as hell knew it wasn’t a patch on Rick’s monster. It was like comparing a Hummer with a Barina! And a Hummer limosine at that! We’re talking length and girth here ladies. (Bet some of you are wishing I gave out his personal details in the index eh? Wink wink)
It’s an understatement to say that when Rick pulled out a condom I was nervous. How was I supposed to do anything with that? Let alone put it in anywhere! It was like telling someone who’d gone to Subway for a light snack that they’d have to have a foot-long instead of the six inch, and cookies weren’t even an option! I gulped audibly as he tore the packet open. I dreaded to think what size he used. Maybe he’d have to join two together even? He set the unwrapped condom on the pillow next to me and the scent of latex wafted over, giving me déjà vu of my first, very unsatisfactory experience. If Charlie hurt, what on Earth would Rick be like? My mind kept flitting back to the stories I had heard about girls being split in half during sex. Of course they were trying to have sex with horses, but it’s all relative right? Rick hovered over me and gave me another one of his tongue melting kisses, making my bones turn to jelly.
So what if he breaks it? I’ll get another one, I thought hazily, smiling giddily after the kiss had ended. His hands slid over my stomach, my hips and down to my thighs. I froze a little, thinking he might notice the two and a half stretch marks I had, but his mind seemed to be on other things. Lucky, I thought, exhaling a long breath and making plans to go to the gym first thing tomorrow morning. Suddenly I yelped and sat bolt upright. I jammed my hand in my mouth, hoping the others outside hadn’t heard my squeal. Apparently not, as the verse of an appallingly bad drinking song carried on unwavering.
“What are you doing!” I squeaked down at Rick.
He looked up at me and grinned devilishly. “Just relax baby.” He cooed “I will not relax!” I hissed. “ You have clearly misunderstood what goes where!” He laughed, amused at my obvious ignorance. “I’m going down on you whether you like it or not.” He said
Eh? I racked my brains trying to remember anything in sex ed class that had mentioned this, but nothing came to mind. I’m sure I would have remembered Mr Anderson quoting “And then you will feel the man’s chin stubble graze ever so gently on your slightly wobbly thighs.” No he had never said anything remotely close to that. So what was he doing down there? Was he that clueless that he needed a map or something? Dear God, what if he was one of those sicko’s who was going to tie me up and lock me in his cupboard for ten days?
“Just relax babe.” He said softly, and before I knew it he had disappeared beneath the blankets. So apparently the experience of being “gone down on” is supposed to be one of great pleasure.
One word for you. Overrated.
I mean, hats off to those ladies out there who can blow their top from just a little cunnilingus, but for me?
That first time it happened I had no idea what to do. Was I supposed to be doing something back? Was this a tango for two? No, it appeared not. This was more one of those interpretive solo dances that every man must make every time he wishes to engage a ladies interest. I didn’t know how long it would go for either, so I just had to wait. I must say I got very well aquainted with his ceiling, and I made a mental note to ask him how one particular stain got up there. When he finally resurfaced, I let out a sigh of relief. On one hand, I was getting a little sleepy and had to keep fighting the urge to doze off, and on the other I could feel a bit of a fart brewing and desperately didn’t want to dutch oven my brand new boyfriend.
A quick side note here, and just in case Rick ever reads this (doubtful, as in all time I spent at his house I never found so much as a comic book) but to this day, no one has ever been able to keep me even remotely interested in the old down time. So don’t fret big guy, you weren’t the only one.
Once he was done deep sea diving, it was back into the much more interesting business of figuring out how to fit an under ripe banana into a keyhole.
Tricky indeed, you may think. And yes, you would be right. Not that it ever got to that point. It turns out that pressure can just be too much for some guys.
We had kissed and canoodled ourselves to a fever pitch and it was finally time for the end game. Rick grabbed the condom and disappeared down to the end of the bed for a time. I heard muffled cursing from underneath the covers and ducked my head in to investigate. Turns out condoms aren’t as easy to put on as they seem. Well, when your very mean girlfriend has worked you up to a certain point I suppose all manner of simple jobs become impossible, as the urge to procreate fills every cell of your man brain. Both of them. Brains I mean, not cells. Although in Rick’s case he may have smoked himself down to just a couple… But I digress.
Long story short poor Rick was so keen that he simply couldn’t manage to get that teeny tiny condom over his massive bulge. When he finally gave up and threw the condom at the wall I felt so sorry for him. You really get to see the true side of a man at moments like these. Turns out my man was a bit of a crier. But of course so filled with passion, love and Carlton Dry was I at that point, that it just seemed so sweet. Not girly at all, but a sensitive side of him that was finally revealing itself to me. A magical moment if you will. Not a time for laughter and mockery (which, don’t worry, I piled on later on) but for sharing and lots and lots of hugging. Hugging which led to a bit of grinding. Grinding which led to a hell of a lot more grinding, which finally led to a most miraculous of moments.
Rick came in his pants!
I felt like Xena warrior sex princess, bringing men to their knees without even taking my knickers off! He had got so turned on by me only half naked that that had happened? Think what I could achieve three quarters naked! My mind began to race with ideas.
That was the very first moment I had ever felt sexy in my life. And it felt great.
That’s it for now Lovers, talk again soon!
Pick up line of the week: You’re like my little toe, I’m going to bang you on every piece of furniture in my house.