I kept listening to his voice mail, trying to figure out if he said that he was coming over to take me out or check me out - turned out it was to 'check' me out. What can I say, he was soliciting for sex, not a date.

I almost forgot the best part - he did not show his face in the ad (understandable) nor in the pic he sent me (not so) even though he has a webcam. Sight unseen, I still had to meet him. His voice over the phone was kinda hot, he sounded like a real man. Sat. night I could barely sleep - it felt like Christmas Eve, anticipating what Santa would bring me. Santa brought me a good looking man to play with.

So after a bunch of (almost mood-killing) calls with directions out here, he finally arrived. I was so nervous going to the door - thank god he wasn't ugly. M ccalled him scarface. He was hiding something, just not scars. I have yet to find out what.

How bizarre is it to meet for a Sunday afternoon sexcapade? Can this be considered
a blind date?

He comes to the door and looks relieved when I open it, sticks out his hand to shake hello, then kisses me on the lips - oops, didn't see that coming. We go into the family room and he asks if he can go clean up (he was helping a friend move), so I send him to the shower.

After his shower, we sit on the couch and chit-chat for a few minutes. He seemed a bit turned on and wanted to get to the business at hand (no pun intended). I say "I thought you wanted to check me out?". He says "I have and I like what I see". So we retire to my bedroom for privacy. Mind you, this is all taking place with D and his friend installing a tv in his bedroom. Later, Huge says "I don't think I ever came with 2 old men talking in the background".

The Nitty, the nitty gritty
Upstairs, I let him guide things, saying I don't know how you do this, how do we negotiate...etc. By the way, he says he's only done this once (ok). He gets undressed in front of me while I sit on the bed. Then he joins me, tossing my pillows out of the way and maintain his stroke. I'm sitting there between his legs just watching him, mainly his eyes - there was a lot happening behind those eyes.

I start rubbing his thighs, waiting to be invited to the party. He's cooing, making eye contact, saying how hot it is that I'm so close to him. Finally, I ask if he needs any help - "yes, what kind?". I get up and go to my newly-formed arsenal of erotic accoutrements and emerged with my orange vanilla massage oil (Walgreen's, $5.99) which he refused to use - said he likes the natural feel. (he patted my leg as if to say 'thanks anyway'. Too bad, R will like it.) Turns out natural is better. It felt like one of those watersnake toys, all smooth and rubbery. He said he wanted to feel my breath next to it (guess this was the invitation I was looking for). He got more than my breath, which was, duh, what he wanted.

9-19-06

Women aren't supposed to like giving head, right? I don't... per se, but I love being able to make a grown man lose all control. For about 30 seconds they're all yours - then they leave.

Back to Huge - I kissed the head of his penis and licked around his base (which made him shiver each time) before I put my mouth down on it. Now there was no way to deep throat (remember his ad, 10 inches), but I managed a third or more. Every time I went the deepest, he let out an "oooo" or was it a "coooo".

I still have my clothes on ( white tank and jeans, lavendar bra and thong - more about the thong later) and Huge keeps staring at my chest. Finally, he says he's been thinking about my petite, perky breasts. Then he rubs all over my chest (slightly padded bra) before removing my tank. Then he traces my breasts, pulls me cclose to him and unhooks my bra - smooth move. Mind you, this is all happening on Sunday afternoon - in full daylight!. Talk about exposed. More tracing, then caressing, then a bit of nipple sucking. I didn't feel like I could completely let go. A- I don't know this guy. B - the whole situation was a bit creepy (no 'I told you so's'). C- It's Sun. afternoon and I'm completely sober (not that I need to be tipsy, but it helps in such situations).

OK, passive-agessive request. H-"These jeans are killing me." T-"Are you asking me to take them off?" T's thought bubble- 'Just fucking ask for what you want!'. Anyway, I'm a bit reluctant because my new thong is a wee too large and baggy. I had to wear it because the heart-shaped jewel sticking out of my jeans is so hott. So, I unbutton them, still sitting in front of huge, I lift up, start to pull them down and make him work the rest of the way with his feet. Thank goodness I do yoga planks. We both laughed at this situation.

Damn!! I liked kissing him. Tongues are so hot during sex. I'm not sure if I already said this since I'm writing a day later now, but I kept wondering what the hell we were doing on CL - he's completely datable under normal circumstances. Oh, that's right - loves to masturbate and is probably married with kids. He drocve up in a van, I can't say that it's his, he was helping a friend move and there was still a fridge in it.

Jeans are off, big thong next. Ooh- must be my turn now. More nipple play, kissing and finally, some tongue action. I admit it, I was a bit uncomfortable - to me this is the most intimate act and I wasn't prepared for it...completely. I wondered what every woman wonders - 'Am I fresh enough?'. He could probably sense my apprehension- god, I hope not. He then gave me the finger. Ha ha, I made a funny. Anyway, he's doing what I normally love and then tells me, "it's tight, it's so tight". I'm not sure if he felt that this was an asset (pun intended), he seemed to look at me for an explanation.

Throughout this whole exploration, I remained very quiet, I wanted to see him do his thing and kind of let things flow. If there's a next time, I'll take more control. So his thing, unbeknownst to me, was an exploding cum show. OK, anal bedding T - I died a little when he put his naked, though freshly-showered, butt on my duvet. Now, the thought of having to search for bits of his DNA to scrub up was almost too much to bear. Huge looks up at the ceiling and the wall behind him. 'Why?', you ask - Checking for valuables. T's thought bubble - 'Excuuussse me!' - notice the hand on the hip and neck craning. What the hell is about to happen? Where the hell is my ladder? Anyway the show starts - it did go up a foot or two, but my celing was never in danger. Is that it?, oh. I grab some napkins and start to clean him up. Who is this woman? I always cringed and made B do the cleanup. It was his cum, so.... In the back of my mind, I knew I'd bag and tag the napkins. I also photographed the scene, like I was on CSI. Guess who my partner'd be? Gary Dourdan - husband ..2. So after Spoogefest 2005, Huge asks if I have a washcloth. T-"yes, in the bathroom". He says, "can you go get it?" a bit too curt for me. I say I have to get dressed and put on my tank, grab some clean undies from the drawer (damn, I forgot about the mirror - he was probably, no definitely, watching me), and pull on my jeans. When I come back, he's standing next to the vanity, takes the washcloth and wipes his b..b..body. I watch him; all is forgiven. He gets dressed - navy briefs, gray athletic shorts and navy tank.

What comes next. Huge starts talking about my work. Excuse me, now you want to talk. Dude, you just, almost fucked me. Now, I'm supposed to conversate like normal? Backtrack - almost fucked, because when he was about to unload I said something like, 'are you sure?' (when i was thinking, 'don't you want to hold that until you get home?'). His response, "unless you have a better idea". T - "I do, it depends on how far you want to take this". H - "I don't want to take this any further". T's thought bubble - 'excuse me? what do you mean you don't want to have sex with me? I know I answered your sick ad, but remember my magnum ad. You've got a lot of fucking nerve; why the hell do I want to watch you cum?'. T's actual - rubbing Huge's thighs, smile turns to straight line (guess that's it).

So back to the conversation afterwards. I sit down at the computer and move some music arouncd. He looks at the article about me in ********** Magazine, I explain it to him a bit (reluctantly so) then he talks about New Orleans and a bunch of other shit that I can't focus on because OMG!!!!, I just invited a strange man over to my house for sex (BTW, I haven't learned my lesson and plan to hook up again). We go downstairs and sit on the couch and talk for a few (I listen, mostly). I remember something about him living in California for maybe 6 years and missing the cold and snow during the holidays. I manage to string a sentence or two together about how I'd like to dress cute for New Year's and wear open-toe sandals. He then looks at my feet, which are propped up on the coffee table, for an uncomfortably long time - good thing I gave myself a pedicure last night. He says he has to make another stop and has to get going. After a few minutes, he finally gets up. He grabs my big toe along the way - how cute, another possible fetish (I guess he'll want to cum on my feet). Maybe he was having a 'Boomerang' moment. Remember Eddie Murphy checking out his date's feet to see if they were pretty or not? (I hope Lela Rochon had a foot double, because those toes were fugly).

So. I walk him to the door, sit on the buffet table and wonder what to say. 'Uh, thanks for the near fuck, have a safe drive back to your wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, mother'. He kisses me, I forgot what he said. I say, "do it closer", or something like that and pull him close to me for a better kiss. It should be mentioned that I pulled him in by his fanny pack. Yeah, you heard me right, fanny pack. Suddenly it's 1985 and he's my mother at Disneyland. Dude, where's Cinderella's castle already? Ribbit. OK. Dude, did you leave your purse at home? Suggestion - wear real pants, shorts even, with pockets. I know he's a personal trainer, but c'mon. He takes my hand, gives a final kiss and lingers with my hand before exiting and asking how to get back to the expressway. I'm not sure what I expected or what I feel - I'm feeling a slight bit empty, but mainly because I'm not sure what will fulfill me right now. I want to have sex (and I will with R tomorrow), but I am still a woman. I may have presented myself as some kind of freak, but damn!, you need to call me the next day or, at least, email me. Dr. Drew said on his sex show the other night, "Don't date the one you're most attracted to, they're going to have all the wrong qualities" (which is probably why you're attracted to them in the first place). "Date the one you're kind of attracted to." Good advice - but seriously, if I love chocolate, strawberry just won't do. OK, maybe the analogy is unnecessary, who's going to say, 'Sorry fine guy, who I think will give me the most amazing-looking children, I'm gonna go date that nerd sitting by himself in the corner - try again, Dr. Drew. I am extremely attracted to Dr. Drew, along with Danny Deutsch and Anderson Cooper (because of the not-quite premaure gray). I have to be attracted to the man I'm with. I wonder if his theory holds up if it's "just sex".