Chapter 13 #2
Admittedly, I groaned out loud when he said this and I took my time responding.
Based on our history, there is a very slim chance he cares about real estate.
The more likely option is that he has a big boy car and can now drive for a booty call.
Still, things have been easy and unawkward between us, so I don’t want to just shoot him down. I go for a vague maybe.
Me: Oh yeah, maybe. You’ll have to let me know when you're in the area.
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: I actually am now. I had to come out here for work and just got off. What’s your address?
Me: Oh, now? I’m not really presentable, and my house is a mess.
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: What did I just say? You're the best grownup I know. I know you're fully presentable, as is your house.
My house is fine. I worked in my pajamas all day, have no makeup on, and my hair is in a lopsided, messy bun, holding on for dear life.
I am not presentable for public consumption, but that has never stopped me in the past. I wouldn’t go out to dinner like this, yet I would very much go out in public.
This will be a good deterrent for him from immediately dragging me into the bedroom.
I could really go for an afternoon delight, but he hasn’t historically brought a lot of delight.
Me: Ok. I’ll send you a pin for my address. Drive slowly so I can have a few minutes to freshen up.
I went to my bathroom to do an armpit bath, brush my teeth, and put my messy bun on straight. A look in the mirror revealed a giant slob. I shrugged at my reflection and moved on with my life, considering it to be sex repellent. About five minutes later, there was a knock on my door.
When I opened the door, I found Justin wearing dress pants, a button-down, and a tie.
I hadn’t seen him for a while and was reminded of how good-looking he was—especially dressed for work.
During our booty call times, he was usually in a ratty t-shirt and sweats when I would show up.
He really was a cutie; too bad there wasn’t much chemistry between us.
He grinned and pulled me into his arms as he walked through the door. Damn, he smelled good. I bit the inside of my cheek in an attempt to refocus or not moan out loud at his smell.
He pulled back from our embrace. “Hey, cutie.”
I looked down to make sure I hadn’t done an outfit change after I last looked in the mirror. “Who, me? I look like I just rolled out of bed despite working all day.”
“Looks good to me,” he said as he put his hand on my hips and pulled me back to him.
According to the item poking my hip, he did think I looked good or had developed some sort of Pavlovian Boner Response to seeing me.
His hands slid to my backside, and he kicked the front door closed.
Before I knew what happened, he had me backed up against the wall, kissing down my neck and running his hands up my back and around under the front of my shirt.
I pulled back from him and said, “I thought you came to look at my house. Not to hook up.”
He grinned and said, “The house looks good. You look good enough to eat.” He pushed me back toward the wall and resumed his attack. He smelled so good. He was a good kisser. He looked so hot dressed up like a business professional.
We made it as far as my entryway before he was pushing down my sweatpants and grabbing a condom from his pocket. This was all very premeditated, and I was powerless to stop it. I wanted it and was wearing rose-colored glasses that were convincing me it would be a positive experience.
He pulled himself out of his pants and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He leveraged me against the wall and entered me, foreplay be damned.
This was when my brain started working again, and I remembered that he was not good at this.
Or at least, we were not good at it together.
He gave it his best for about two minutes before he came.
He put his back against the wall, which he had been holding me against, and slid down to the floor.
I pulled up my pants and slid down to the floor next to him.
The weight of disappointment was too heavy for me to keep standing.
Justin was breathing heavily, head tilted back with a goofy smile on his face. Still hot, still not compatible.
“Wow, that was hot. Amazing. So good.” He says, catching his breath, with his head leaned back against the wall.
He looked over at me for my feedback.
“Yeah, wow.”
Justin got a funny look on his face as I must not have been very convincing.
“Are you okay? Did you not finish?”
Every fiber in my being wants to tell him “no.” Why am I protecting his ego? He is not my boyfriend or even my friend. He’s hot, and he’s nice. However, he’s not my guy.
“Um, no, I didn’t.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just didn’t finish.”
“Why not?”
The internal groaning I am doing is off the charts.
Do I hit him with the truth or let him think it was just an off day?
Do I keep it simple or take one for the team and let him know he is not doing enough as a step forward for womankind?
You know what? I am a grownup. Justin told me so today. I’m not friggin’ doing this anymore.
“Justin,” I started. “I really don’t want to hurt your feelings, and it’s not even your fault, but I have never had an orgasm while having sex with you.
His jaw dropped, and he started sputtering, “What? You can’t be serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“Am I doing something wrong?”
I took a deep breath. “Not really. I’m just not super likely to have an orgasm during sex unless there has been a lot of hands-on foreplay. I take a lot of warming up and usually am more successful with alternate means of pleasure.”
The look on his face is pure devastation. He looks like I killed his puppy. His package is still hanging out of his pants, and I visualize it shrinking and crawling back into his body due to manly shame.
“I did have an orgasm with you once. In Mexico.”
“You did? What did I do differently that time?”
“I had been sharing a room with my sister and hadn’t been with anyone for a long time.
We had that slow-burn thing going. It wouldn’t have taken much.
And that was a hands-on experience, which is usually more of a sure thing for me.
I probably should have put a stop to it sooner, but you're so hot and smell so good. That felt like enough at the time.”
He looked at me like a sad little boy. “Let me try again; I can do better. I'm not this guy.”
“I’m good. I’m okay DIY-ing this situation. Maybe a tip for your next lover? Go slower; ask questions. Let them tell you or show you what works for them. Everyone is different, and for some people, your method works. It just doesn’t work for me.”
He started to put himself away and stand up. “I’m so sorry, Cassie. I can’t believe how badly I misjudged this. I'm so embarrassed. But thank you for saying something. I’m just going to tuck my tail between my legs and go now.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I also don’t want to keep doing this. Don’t be embarrassed because then I'll be embarrassed. I want to find a real partner, and I can’t do that when I keep getting distracted by your scent.”
Justin nodded and looked me straight in the eyes. “Thanks for being honest. I really am sorry. I’ll do better the next time, so that this awkward conversation won’t have been for nothing.
I pulled him into a hug and took a deep whiff to hold me over until the next good-smelling guy I encountered, God willing.
“You can thank me by not sleeping with me again. I get confused when you show up, but I need to move on. I'm definitely still interested in being your mature, successful, female friend. If you’re interested.”
He grinned at me and replied, “I’m interested. Thanks for offering.”
I watched him get in his car and drive away. I engaged in a self-high-five and shut the door. We had an awkward situation, but I was honest and ended the situationship with grace. Damn, I'm a real ass adult now.