i had just gotten out of my five year relationship. i had a list of guys in the back of my mind i had always wanted to make-out with, maybe even have sex with. one boy in particular was a musician dude i had known forever- but more as an acquaintance, and who i shared about a million close mutual friends with. he never said much when i saw him, and i knew nothing REALLY about him… but i loved what his face looked like. I LOVED that he was taller than me. that’s not something easy to accomplish. i’m 5’10. he was so odd looking. he was American, but looked like an English boy from 1963. his style was simple. sweater, jeans, cords, button up shirts. that look. he was TALL and LEAN and stand offish, but not in a mean way, just quiet. an against the wall leaner. i couldn’t read him at all… but from what i had HEARD about him, from all my female friends who had slept with him… he had a crazy huge private. and by private, i mean d. i. c. k. i HATE that word. it makes me feel like how the word bologna sounds… moist and rubbery and cold and thick. yuck! but i was single now and i had to know if this was true. i wanted NOTHING more from him than sex. yes, i said it. just sex. i didn’t care to know what he felt, what his dreams were, or his thoughts. i was on a mission.
i ran into him at a show. he was with a mutual friend. i was shy. i stammered ‘hello’. i was nervous to show him i liked him. i wasn’t in love or anything, i just didn’t want him thinking he was in high demand. he was wearing a red plaid button up and a look on his face that revealed nothing. i HAD to have him. but how would i do it? i started talking to my friend who owned the venue. i wanted to make sure it was obvious how popular i am, that i have important friends, ties, bonds, and can talk to people whenevs.. because I’m totally fun and interesting. i hope i didn’t blow my cool, as i looked over my shoulder every two seconds to see if he noticed how in demand I was. drat. he never seemed to be looking. oh well, the night was still young. even as i watched him flirt, laugh, and be touched on the shoulder and whispered to by a hot- slutty- red lipstick wearing ny chick who was much skinnier and skankier looking than me, i did not lose hope! instead i was fueled by an inner rage and determination. thinking thoughts like, ‘he has NO idea how amazing i am’. and, ‘i bet I’m WAY better in bed than that trollop skank bitch’. and yet, i thought she was cute too, but this was no time to try to bond and form a new female friendship. besides, she was visiting from outta town anyways and would only leave me heartbroken. plus i heard she was mean, had stds, and slept with EVERYONE- and i DO NOT need a friend like that. back to the lanky super tall dude: the show was ending, and i had to make a play. so i skipped up over to him as he was walking out the front doors and said “hey (insert name here), I’m single now and i think you should know…… we’re gonna sleep together…. soon.” he smiled and laughed “Alexi, you are funny”. “i know” i said, “i can’t help it.”
we laughed. i was glad he could handle and actually ENJOYED my braisen approach/sense of humor. everyone we knew was walking to a cafe down the street. we sat next to each other and barely flirted. i felt nothing for him. nothing. except that i wanted to check him off a list. he represented something i hadn’t been able to have while i was in a five year relationship… sex with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. from the cafe, a smaller group of us went to a bar. when there were only four of us left at the bar: me, my girlfriend, my lanky dude sex toy, and his annoying friend (i didn’t hate him, but my friend wasn’t his biggest fan- and she was the one we were trying to set him up with.) the four of us went back to her house, and twenty minutes later she kicked us out and whispered to me that she’s not my pimp and she’d rather not help me try to score by luring dudes back to her place for foreplay. i understood.
we jumped in my dudes car, went to his house. he dropped his friend off, grabbed some stuff inside, and we got back in the car. we looked at eachother for what felt like the first time all night. i leaned in, took his face in my hands and kissed him. we drove off to his band mates house who he was house sitting for. his bandmate was dating a well known actress at the time. her red lipstick was all over the white pillowcases. but i didn’t care. it made it neater! torrid sex in a bed that didn’t belong to either of us, with a movie stars crazy red lipstick all over the place? AWESOME! it was like that song: ‘those Hollywood nights, in those Hollywood hills’! this was gonna be epic.
we cut the bullshit/small talk, and i flopped onto the bed- giving him a look that said ‘get the fuck over here bitch.’ he jumped on top of me, and we made out forever- clothes coming off until we were both naked with the lights still on. ON! amazers! crazer amazers! i looked at his privates. they were big, but not as huge as i’d thought- but pretty impressive. as i looked down and then back up again, i smiled.
we had sex every which way possible! (except bum sex, cuz i totally don’t do that. too scary and gross) me on top, him on top, 69’ing, me going down on him and him me. we were both super limber so legs were criss crossing and flailing all over the place. at one point during a french kiss during the wild sex party, our teethe klunked into eachother and my lip got cut. i didn’t realize until after we were done that this happened. but my cut was small compared to the gallons of blood it left all over the white sheets! i wasn’t having my period. this wasn’t supposed to happen. plus, cuts and blood and sex with strangers are all ingredients for a panic attack this day and age. anywayzies, back to the sheets….
dude and i wouldn’t be able to pass it off as crazy movie star lipstick either. we were fucked! he went into the next room and came back. ‘i googled getting out blood, and it says hydrogen peroxide will lift it out of the fabric.’ it totally worked! we laid back down, and i told him about the word on the street/word of mouth about his privates and that all the girls told me it’s massive. he asked if it lived up to the dream. i said “yeah, i guess”. he was genuinely flattered “really? wow.” he asked if i wanted to spend the night and he’d drive me home after we woke up, but i said no. I’m much more shy and anxiety ridden about actually SLEEPING next to a guy, than having sex with him. like it’s TOO intimate too soon. i know this way of thinking is a bit backwards, but that’s how i feel.
he drove me home. and as we gazed forward in the early morning light, making idle chit chat about nothing, i looked over and said “wow, i can’t believe it. i don’t feel sad or empty at all. i don’t have any of that regret or shame society and friends tell you you’ll have.” he just smiled. i felt nothing. and luckily since i was completely sober during this entire experience, i wasn’t hung over either. we arrived at my house, said goodbye as if we’d never had sex at all (just short of a handshake and a slap on the back) and i walked inside my apartment. all by myself, in my one bedroom sanctuary, i thought about how exciting it was to be single and all the adventures to come! little did i know i’d make out with his roommate months later. but that’s another story altogether. xo, i love you.