FRIENDLY ONE NIGHT STAND
Today I had to go to the valley, ugh, but I held my head up high, and jumped into my beat up Landcruiser, climbed the hill crossing over into the valley on the 405. As reluctant as I am to force myself to over to the smog filled hot box, most of Los Angeles tries to avoid, I knew that should I decided to fulfill the craving of a good romp in the hay with some new, gorgeous, perfectly fit, lover boy could be in the cards. New territory, new meat!
First I meet up with my friends, Dancer Girl and Emotional Disturbance (this is a man by the way). After collecting at Dancer Girls wedded, (probably over sexed) home, we headed towards Aguora. I am heading deeper into the valley, for margaritas.
Upon arrival, there are 25 super sexy firemen having some sort of "hot dude" convention. BINGO. Who's idea was this place, and why am I just finding out about it????? Didn't the memo go around about my lack of sex, with someone other than myself, and/or The Rabbit? This, to me, is like hitting the Triple Diamond on the slot machine.
The MasterCard commercial would be, 1) Price for a margarita at BAJA CANTINA in Agoura Hills, CA, $6.50 + tip, 2) Price of gas to drive from Beverly Hills, CA to Agoura Hills, CA $9.28, 3) Undersexed woman, desperately seeking a good night of unattached, hair pulling sex, then walking into a room full of testosterone, PRICELESS.
That was until, the minute of absolute defeat happened. Emotional Disturbance, walked in from parking the car, and immediately put his (very cute, but not nearly as available as the 25 men sitting, staring at me) arm around me. He walked in and pissed all over me, as if I was his territory.
Fuck. He's going to pay now. I'm going to make him shop with me, drown out his unavailable emotions until finally by tonight I can sit on him and do very dirty things to this man.
Yes, we shopped, this shopping included more day drinking. We hit up one shop, then one bar, one shop, one bar. We slowly but surely became a hot mess.
We stumbled back to Dancer Girl's house, where her old man, Camera Boy was waiting, dressed. "Damn it guys, we have Emotional Disturbance's birthday dinner tonight, and now I'm stuck with your drunk asses!"
We dined on sushi, drink more cocktails. I gently rubbed against him while enjoying the delicious meal.
Dinner's over. I'm ready to go home. Well, not my home.
Cut to.
The next morning. Hung over. Naked. But the good news is, I know where I am. Emotional Disturbance, up and happy, holding a cup of tea, Advil, and ready to hop in the hot tub. I didn't realize there would be morning tea, but I am OK with it. But I do have one question.
Where are my clothes?
As he pulls my shirt out of a pile of sheets on the floor, "Well, here's your shirt, I think you jeans are downstairs on the kitchen table, panties on coffee table, there's one of your shoes...."
Well, I guess all I could say to my hopeful more constant Fuck Buddy, was HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!
First I meet up with my friends, Dancer Girl and Emotional Disturbance (this is a man by the way). After collecting at Dancer Girls wedded, (probably over sexed) home, we headed towards Aguora. I am heading deeper into the valley, for margaritas.
Upon arrival, there are 25 super sexy firemen having some sort of "hot dude" convention. BINGO. Who's idea was this place, and why am I just finding out about it????? Didn't the memo go around about my lack of sex, with someone other than myself, and/or The Rabbit? This, to me, is like hitting the Triple Diamond on the slot machine.
The MasterCard commercial would be, 1) Price for a margarita at BAJA CANTINA in Agoura Hills, CA, $6.50 + tip, 2) Price of gas to drive from Beverly Hills, CA to Agoura Hills, CA $9.28, 3) Undersexed woman, desperately seeking a good night of unattached, hair pulling sex, then walking into a room full of testosterone, PRICELESS.
That was until, the minute of absolute defeat happened. Emotional Disturbance, walked in from parking the car, and immediately put his (very cute, but not nearly as available as the 25 men sitting, staring at me) arm around me. He walked in and pissed all over me, as if I was his territory.
Fuck. He's going to pay now. I'm going to make him shop with me, drown out his unavailable emotions until finally by tonight I can sit on him and do very dirty things to this man.
Yes, we shopped, this shopping included more day drinking. We hit up one shop, then one bar, one shop, one bar. We slowly but surely became a hot mess.
We stumbled back to Dancer Girl's house, where her old man, Camera Boy was waiting, dressed. "Damn it guys, we have Emotional Disturbance's birthday dinner tonight, and now I'm stuck with your drunk asses!"
We dined on sushi, drink more cocktails. I gently rubbed against him while enjoying the delicious meal.
Dinner's over. I'm ready to go home. Well, not my home.
Cut to.
The next morning. Hung over. Naked. But the good news is, I know where I am. Emotional Disturbance, up and happy, holding a cup of tea, Advil, and ready to hop in the hot tub. I didn't realize there would be morning tea, but I am OK with it. But I do have one question.
Where are my clothes?
As he pulls my shirt out of a pile of sheets on the floor, "Well, here's your shirt, I think you jeans are downstairs on the kitchen table, panties on coffee table, there's one of your shoes...."
Well, I guess all I could say to my hopeful more constant Fuck Buddy, was HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!
