Here’s the thing. A few years ago I met this guy. Ooo, shocker, since I’m single and all… But anyways, he was really cute and we got along really well. The thing is, I gave him my number, but he didn’t give me his, so for a whole week I was in peril rolling around my apartment wondering whether he was going to even both acknowledging my existence. But hey, we all forget things when we get drunk.
Well, one final day, he actually called. He wanted to know who this was, so I just told him the truth: “Yeah, this is *****. We met at that bar downtown last weekend.”
Of course, he pretended to remember me, coming up with some of the most ridiculous stories i could have even imagined. Some I never want to think about again.
So, to cut this bit short, I told him that we should meet up, and we did. It was that weekend we got together to have a few drinks at a club downtown… the same place we met. It felt a little like deja vu, but I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass me by.
We danced, we laughed, we drank. Unfortunately, there was no kissing, to touchy, no feely, absolute NADA. With enough liquor in me, I finally asked him: “Are you a priest or something?”
He just looked at me confused. And of course, I proceeded to make a complete fool of myself.
Me: “I’m not like, loose or anything, but you seem a little up tight. Maybe you should just stop acting like you’ve jumped into Sixteen Candles and just plant one on me already.”
Immediately after saying those words, I simply felt embarrassed for speaking like my mother. At that time, I was drunk, you have to give me that, but little did I know that those words would haunt me for the next two weeks.
Life went on, everything was dandy, and we started texting each other. Sure, we had some chemistry there, and he wasn’t all bad (except for the crooked nose). He had a David Tennant look about him, and that enticed me. What girl wouldn’t want to hook up with David Tennant? Unfortunately, the guy is married, so I had to settle…
As the next week went by, our texting became more and more frequent. It was to the point that I was ignoring half of my classes and burning my eyes out by staring at my phone all day long. I started having to wear my glasses because my eyes hurt so much! So the texts were sometimes jokes, sometimes asking to meet up–which always ended up cancelled somehow–or even him sending me pictures of him and his buddies at work. It was no big deal.
But then one day, completely out of nowhere, he sends me a picture of his little friend Harry, and when I say Harry, I mean HAIRY.
This guy, just whips out his dick at work, and sends me the photo. It’s not that it was a bad thing, in fact, I was in need of a good lay, but it was just too out of place for me to have any proper reaction. Like a sane human being, I texted back one word: “Nice.”
In the next week, our last week together and my last week with that phone number, we sent sexts back and forth. Some were steamy, some were a little meh, but in the end, we were both hot and bothered. Things needed to go down FAST.
When guys say that it’s hard to stop once they’re turned on, it makes me laugh. You can’t even begin to understand the chemical mess that happens to a girl when she’s horny. And don’t even get me started on when we’re ovulating.
With girl’s it takes over your whole body. Your heart begins to race, your breathing quickens, and you start to feel light-headed. It’s just so overpowering that you WANT IT NOW. At least, that’s how it is for me… maybe that’s why I have self-control issues??
When this feeling takes you over, you’re stuck with it. It won’t leave you alone. Hell, when i get like this, I like to sit cross-legged. It helps get rid of the unnecessary hot and bothered-ness, especially when it’s at a bad time.
Back to the story… this guy eventually got straight up with me. He asked me over, and said three simple words: “Want to f*ck?”
Here’s me, dying for a lay, jumping up and down screaming: “WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK SOONER!!??”
So I went over to his place. We had a few drinks, a few laughs, and finally, after a little coaxing, a little touchy feely. I could tell this guy was a newbie. He didn’t know where to put his hands, and he had no idea how to kiss a girl. It was like high school all over again… just without the actual sex part. (This single lady was too busy workin to have sex. And not WORKIN workin, but making money in a fast food join workin.)
Eventually we made it to the bedroom. The clothes were on the floor, the lights were out, and everything was going my way. I couldn’t have asked for more… that is, until everything became more.
Right before we started, he stopped me. THE GUY. HE STOPPED. What is this? Some lame straight-to-DVD body swap movie?
Then he said three words I never thought I would ever hear.
“I’m a virgin.”
WHOA. Hold up. So… I was about to de-flower this guy? How old was he anyways? He had to be older than me. At least he was over 19, because how else could he get into a club in this country? (If you didn’t notice, that means I live in Canada.)
I looked down at him (yeah, I was on top) and he just gave me puppy-dog eyes. I had to treat him like a delicate flower. So, I asked politely: “Did you still want to do this?”
He blinked, took a deep breath, and looked me straight in the eyes: “Yes.”
So off we went.
I went home that night, of course, and went to bed. When I woke up, that was when everything went awry.
My phone was bombarded with text messages. All kinds of messages from the guy, wondering how I slept, when we could see each other again, when will I be waking up, when do I have to go to work, how was I feeling, did I need anything?
I turned off my phone. For two days.
When I finally turned it back on, I was hit with several more messages, but this time, they weren’t as kind-hearted and clingy as last time.
Dick-pics left and right surfaced on my screen. I didn’t even know what to do. Then there were some with words say: “How do you like it, babe?” or “When did you want some more?”
I’d had it.
Before this, I was just going to let him off as me being the girl who took his virginity, but now, the boy isn’t ever going to contact me again. I went straight to the phone company and changed my number. My immediate contacts received my new number, and I never heard from the guy again…
That is… until a year later.
I was at a club and I looked over the bar. I saw this guy standing there with a wide smile on his face, staring at me. I was confused for a moment, but then it hit me.
THE SEXTING PIG.
It was him! I wanted to run, but it was too late, he was on his way over to me… with two other guys in tow.
He looked at me a smiled coyly. “Hey there. Remember me?”
The two guys high-five each other.
I looked at the guy. “Is there anything you need?”
The two lackeys snickered.
I glared at them.
The guy just touched my shoulder. “Naw, I don’t need anything. It’s just nice to see you. I wanted to know how you’ve been.”
Me: “I’ve been fine.”
Guy: “Got a boyfriend?”
I shook my head.
The two guys snickered again.
Then it hit me. These guys thought he was MY first. They were trying to get a rise out of me! Those a-holes.
So I got an idea.
Me: “*****, I really hope you’re not trying to start things over with me. I know I took your virginity and all, but you’re just not the right guy for me. You just weren’t good enough.”
I patted him on the shoulder and walked away, leaving him and his friends to stare wide-eyed and completely in shock.
Score one for the Single Lady.