Lucky Charms and I were friends in college. In fact, I really didn't know him that well at first. All I knew of him could be summed up in this one sentence: he and my college roommate made out one time by a lake.
Slowly, after breaking up with The First, Lucky Charms and I began hanging out. During this time, we'd get incredibly fucked up and I would watch in amazement as he brought home A-Level talent to bang for as long as he like (a few one night stands, a few month-long flings). I mean here was a guy who weighed at least 15-20 lbs less than I did and was tall and gangly with angular features who was bringing home girls who were Playboy's local talent level caliber pieces of ass.
I began telling everyone that he had Lucky Charms in his pants for that was the only explanation I could think of. He was in a frat, got high and drunk every day and seemingly had no real aspirations beyond the next fuck.
Fast forward to 2009, he is living in Charleston with a solid job on the fast track to management. He'll have his pick of where he will go with his career. He's working out, has a sweet dog and is not quite the manwhore he once was. One of our mutual friends and I decided to go spend Valentine's Day weekend in Charleston for a visit and we have a blast. A few of our other friends happen to be in town as well and we just get drunk, act silly, cuddle and generally have a great time. No worries about makeup or clothes because there wasn't time for it.
He came into town a few months later and got royally pissed off when I refused to travel the hour to meet up with him. The day before he was set to leave, he called me and basically begged to see me. So i threw on some clothes and headed to Athens (scene of a majority of my drunken hookups). At the time I had no intention other than going to see some buddies I hadn't seen in a while.
The night took a dramatic turn for the
You see Lucky Charms and I have always been pretty flirty. Touchy feely. People always assume we have had sex (an exact opposite of the assumptions about me and Dr. Pothead). At this point we hadn't but a long walk home in some dangerously high heels would change all that.
Somewhere along the hike we ended up way far behind the rest of the group. My memory is hazy but I think I had to stop and take off my slutty platform heels so I could actually walk at a pace faster than a crawl. The rest of the group kept going but Lucky Charms, gentleman that he is, stayed behind and even carried my shoes for me. We were joking around, acting silly and somehow ended up holding hands.
At some point, I must have teased him about how his lucky charms hadn't worked for that night because the next thing I know, he grins and says:
"That's what you think."
Before SLAMMING...I mean SLAMMING me into the wall and kissing the hell out of me. The kind of kiss they talk about in romance novels that you always wonder if they really happen? Yeah, that one. Just pushed me into the wall, dropped my shoes and ran his hands up and down my body.
Thinking about it now has me turned on.
We must have made out against that wall for at least 30 minutes. And, man oh man, it is still my top kissing moment ever (and I've had some crazy ones).
At some point, one of us (I'm assuming him) came to our senses and we headed back to the townhouse we were crashing at. Where the pals were nice enough to leave us the guest bedroom...
Where, I'm assuming we got it on (judging from my patent-pending sex test) because I woke up with no pants on at about 8 am.
And I flipped. I snuck out of there as quickly as I could find my shorts, shoes and purse (which took far longer than it should have). I was so lucky no one woke up to me leaving. I ended up texting him 30 minutes down the road and saying something came up at home.
To say he was pissed is putting it mildly. Looking back at it now, he was probably hurt. What kind of friend spends the night fucking you and then sneaks off like a thief in the night. Or maybe it's the romantic in me hoping that my slipping out without so much as a good bye broke his heart.
Which could be a direct result of his last visit and the ridiculous Christmas texts I have yet to share with you...
1 comment:
You're killing me. I'm dying to know what happened.
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