I was devastated with Tony Stark’s abrupt departure from my life that I was still in denial, and also needing validation. When you feel like I felt, you make dumb decisions. Let me rephrase that: you make ridiculously stupid decisions. I don’t know what really possessed me to agree to text this guy; his age was really young (20), he used faces when he texted constantly (not 😦 type, but o.o, which annoy me to death!) and his hair was incredibly long. But hey, Rebound was just a rebound.
Rebound and I texted a bit before he went into work. He invited me to come over after be got off work (at like 9:30 or so), and I didn’t have a reason not to. While waiting, I shaved, looked pretty, the normal routine. He texted me when he was home and I was all ready to go (fun yoga pants and a shirt and sports bra.)
When I arrived, he met me outside, smoking (joy.) He instructed me to pull around to almost the other side of this street. I was slightly confused, but hey, not my place. When I got out of the car, it didn’t take long for me to be like, fuuuucking a this was dumb. While he was tall, white, dirty blonde hair, he smoked (which will make me smell like smoke), and had a really weird voice infliction and sounded like he hadn’t hit puberty yet. These weren’t the deal breakers. Rebound then told me that his name wasn’t “Steve,” it was “Larry.” Side note: I don’t even remember what name he used, he’s written in my little black as “uber confused.”
I understand not wanting to share some personal information, I really do. However, the fun and crazy started pouring out of his mouth like a monsoon as we were walking. Allow me to list:
In a relationship, but his girlfriend doesn’t want sex more than once a week.
Lives with someone that would tell his girlfriend so I have to be quiet and sneak in.
He lived a “very Japanese style lifestyle,” which turned out to be code for he had no furniture.
He also said he was very simple. I feel that was because he worked minimum wage and didn’t have the means to have cool things, like a table.
He had no phone. How did he text me? His computer with a messaging service.
I was there, horny, and was I really going to be singing “Did I Shave My Legs For This” over this crap? At least his penis made up for it.
Rebound was slightly my type; he was pretty tall (over 6 ft), blue eyes, a bit nerdy, skinny with no muscle tone, and light hair. He maybe had all of three chest hairs. He was wearing an oversized hoodie and really baggy shorts that looked like high water pants on a woman. After sneaking into his townhouse (his roommate was totally checked out on the floor staring at a wall. Don’t do drugs, kids), which I didn’t even try to contain the sounds of my flip flops, we were in his room. Mattress was on the floor with mismatched and old sheets, one dingy and tiny pillow, and his laptop was next to the bed with a bowl that had some remaining ramen noodles in it. I had taken a whole lot of steps back in bed buddies. So many.
The whole situation felt awkward; but I was there to just have sex, even if he rambled on about living in California. I had already made the conscious decision that I wasn’t going to see him again, making my whole demeanour change. I was very passive; I just laid on his bed with my hands behind my head. Having no lamps, it was either all the lights or none. I guess you can count the glow from the laptop as a bad substitute for lighting. It took a few awkward moments before he made any move. To save myself the awkwardness of writing about the awkward sex, let me point out some key high and low lights instead.
His dick was long and pretty damn thick. Kid had no idea he had an awesome penis. Yes, he was tall and it was pretty proportionate, but if he hadn’t gone down on me, I wouldn’t have been able to take it as quickly as he was thrusting. Doggy style sex was actually bordering on painful. I’m sure I bled from the pounding.
When he went down on me, which I always appreciate, it was so lackluster. It was like being so excited you’re getting cake, but everything on it is wrong. No icing, some light crap mix, and it’s dry. I’d rather have nothing.
In missionary, his hair was in my face. He didn’t even try to move it out of my face. I don’t think I would have let it bother me so much if it wasn’t greasy and cigarette smelling. Just, for my sake, put your hair in a ponytail if you want to lean over a woman like that.
He was incredibly out of shape. I’m not skinny, but I’m in shape. I can keep going like the energizer bunny. This child had to take so many breaks to just catch his breath, and then smoking. I told him I couldn’t smell like smoke, so he opened the window and failed at trying to make his smoke go out the window.
He asked me to be on top, which is ok, but he laid there like a log. I moved more than he did when I was on bottom.
While fucking me, he would ask me if I would come back. I was thrown off the first time he asked and I didn’t respond. The second and third times (and so many more) I just responded with my noncommittal “sure I guess.” I don’t want questions asked during sex unless it is about the sex act at hand. My favorite question/comment ever was: you’d really enjoy having a girl eat you out and a dick in your mouth, wouldn’t you? No. I fucking would not. This was not asked by Rebound, by the way.
When this awkward train came to its final destination, Rebound told me I needed to hurry. I was puzzled; his roommate was already out of it like no one’s business downstairs. Apparently there were more roommates that would be home soon from the job they all worked at (making pizzas like a boss…while high as kites.) I asked for something to clean myself with; he tried to hand me dirty laundry. These pants went straight on up my legs, wetness included. While I was getting dressed, he was going over with me our cover story so I could come over and hang out with all of them. He decided that it should be that I knew him from California, and we’re friends, and since neither of us were single, it would all be ok. I just smiled and said ok. This cluster fuck needed to end immediately.
I showered with scalding hot water when I got home.
It took all of five minutes of me driving home for him to text me to ask if I had fun and when did I want to come over again. For someone that had a girlfriend, this was an unnatural amount of clingy behavior. He texted me a lot, and eventually, I stopped responding or giving excuses. He was a child; age and maturity. The situation wasn’t right for me, and Rebound was nothing more than a rebound.
Lessons learned: don’t look for a fwb right after having one end. It doesn’t go well.
The Daring Vagina