Will You Marry Me?

Will You Marry Me?

For the beginning of the story, click here

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I don’t know what to name him… Usually something comes to me… Maybe “Steamboat” because that’s where he’s moving and he’s kind of¬†a dreamboat ūüėČ or DS for Dreamboat in Steamboat… I don’t know. Maybe you can think of something.

He’s my age, attractive, intelligent, half black, half Mexican, only about an inch taller than me and very, very skinny (doesn’t shave his nethers either, hmmm…). He’s been a¬†registered nurse for 20 years and loves his family who he goes to see every year. He wants¬†to open his own retirement home and has a plan already in process. He likes EDM (electronic dance music), Pink Floyd, classic rock… He likes the same drugs as¬†I do and likes to drink, but knows how to be safe because he’s a nurse.¬†He drives a brand spanking new Miata and one would *think* he’s gay except for (maybe) the way he eats my¬†pussy and kisses me… Damn!

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Revenge Pancakes

Revenge Pancakes

revenge pancakes

Quite a while back, in the middle of a post, I mentioned that there is an older gentleman that skates sometimes (Thursdays and Saturdays) and he has expressed interest in me. We’ve exchanged phone numbers and, once about six months ago, went out for coffee after skating on a Saturday night when I went skating alone.

So…

Being the vengeful-when-hurting type of gal that I am, after finding out that Loverman went to a mutual friends’ wedding on Saturday without me, I texted Sexy SkaterMan to see if he would be rolling the Saturday night session. He responded:

skating_tonight

We did go for “a spot of java” (dude’s from inner-city Chicago – it made me giggle when he texted that) at midnight after skating and we talked until about 1:30AM. For the first hour we caught up on things that happened since the last time we went “out for java”. I didn’t write about that “date” here because it was boring — he had salmon and veggies and I had a piece of Lemon Meringue Pie. This time he had Chicken & Waffles and I had Pancakes & Eggs with Bacon — and¬†this time, when he walked me from my car into the restaurant, he asked “Would it be all right if I held your hand?”

I let him.

Both this time and last the interesting conversation lasted for about an hour; we talked about our families, divorce, drugs, the military (he’s ex-Air Force).

When there was a lull, he started telling me how messing around isn’t that big of a deal as long as it makes both of us feel good. The two of us would be the only ones who know.

That’s when I told him the reason why I texted him earlier:

Loverman went to our friends’ wedding without me.

Sexy SkaterMan said, “I knew there was a reason why you asked me if I’d be out tonight! You’re never the one that texts first. That’s why I asked you for coffee afterward. I figured you wanted to talk, or something.” (aka “I wanted to see if this is the time you’ll let me fuck your brains out.”)

“Does it bother you to know that I called you because I’m mad at my boyfriend?”

“It doesn’t bug me at all, baby. You already know that I want you. I’m here because you needed something and I want to be that something.”

“Even if I don’t know what that something is?” I asked. (Dude’s scum, I know. He’s a predator. He lies to get into ladies’ pants. I know it. Everyone else knows it. He’s not very good at it either. I just want to minimize collateral damage and I don’t think this Sexy SkaterMan will suffer much for knowing I’m using him.)

“I will come any time you call me, Baby,” and then he stressed, “Any time. I really mean that.” And once more, “I do.”

We talked for a few more minutes, then he paid the check and walked me out to my car.

Before he opened my door for me, he leaned over, kissed me gently and whispered my name, “You don’t know how much I want you, baby.” His hand was at the back of my neck (a weak spot) twirling through my wispy hairs and he reached between my legs with his other hand to rub my warm pussy. My mouth was against his neck and I was kissing him, breathing him in.¬†I was melting, right there in the restaurant parking lot. Mmm, he smelled so good with all the bad-boy sexy smells — cigarettes, cologne, sweat from skating and beer (he always drinks two beers in the parking lot before coming in to skate, it’s his ‘warm up’ ritual. The regulars all do it, most of them just smoke weed instead of drinking beer ūüėČ ).

I was running my hands across his chest, feeling the definition in his pecs as I thought, “I should not be doing this”, and then I said it out loud.

Sexy SkaterMan’s response was to pull away and say, “I think it’s time we said ‘good night’. We had a great talk and I don’t want to ruin it”, but then he leaned over to me and started kissing me again. “Your lips taste so good” and I was kissing him back. He grabbed my hand and led it down to the erection in his jeans. “Feel how much I want you” and I squeezed it and kept kissing him back.

“We really need to stop,” I said on an exhale, hoping a little bit that he wouldn’t hear me, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re right. It’s time we should go. I enjoyed our time together tonight. Just give me another squeeze before you go. I want to feel your hand on my dick one more time.”

I did.

He kissed me once more, softly on the forehead as he brushed one side of my hair behind my ear and said, “You are so beautiful.”

He opened my door, made sure I was sitting comfortably and leaned over to kiss me tenderly on the lips one last time before he closed the door and returned to his truck.

I rolled down my window to thank him for the pancakes and conversation (and stuff).

His response was, “I meant it. You can call me any time. Any time.”

“I appreciate that. I really do. Drive safe. It’s late and all the drunk crazies are out there.”

“You, too, baby.”