Some Words...

Have you ever had a one night stand? Or are you one of those people that had one, but don't admit to it because it makes you sound easy? I used to think I'd never do that (that was when I was young and still had morals). I had one, well ok, probably more than one but it's not like I made a habit of it. Anyway, I was forced to recall one because of circumstance, which I'll get to in a moment.

I sat there at the bar wondering if anyone noticed I was sitting there alone. It's ok, I told myself. This is a big city, women can go out by themselves and drink alone. I sat there nursing my Guinness, I knew if I didn't, I'd end up throwing myself a pity party when I got home. So anyway, I'm sitting there staring at the tv pretending to be interested by the game on tv. I'm not, although I'm a huge sports fan, tonight I'm not in the mood to watch a bunch of grown men run around a field and smash into each other. Too much testosterone for a lonely girl to deal with. I get up to go to the bathroom, I wonder if someone will take my prime seat I've managed to score by the front bar. I go anyway. When I return I see this hottie in my seat. He's hot, but I can tell he's into himself. He's the kind of guy I despise. So I go up to him, "um, excuse me, that's my seat." "Oh yeah," he replies. "Well yes, so kindly move your arse." "No," he says. What...the f*ck. I asked nicely. Now I'm going to have to be a bit more aggressive. So, I sit on his lap. Yeah I know...that was a bold move but I'm at the point I really don't care what he thinks. Now it's me that's shocked because he actually doesn't say anything. Instead he puts his arms around me and says, "I've been waiting for you to do that all night long." "Oh really," I say. So there I sit...atop a really hot guy, I can feel his hard c*ck grinding up against my....kitty. My God I'm easy...I don't even know his name. I almost stop myself, or my morals do, but tonight, it seems other thoughts prevail. Oh well. We sit there for awhile until another seat opens up beside him. I guess I should move...I think to myself. But at this point I'm so frickin' horny that I can't get up. But I should, so I slowly slide myself off his lap, I feel him harden. Good, I think to myself, he wants me. I sit down beside him. He starts to talk about himself. I think, God I hate men like him. I listen, sort of. Really I'm wanting him to shut up and sit there, look pretty, make me forget why I should get up and walk away. He finally gets around to asking my name, "my name," I reply. "Don't have one," I say. "Ok then, so where does that leave us," he asks. Instead of answering, I take his hand and lead him to the door. I live exactly 1/2 block from the bar so it's a quick and easy trip to somewhere else. Up the stairs we go, I pull him through the doorway and we barely make it inside before we're ripping each other's clothes off. He keeps giving this sort of narrative of what's happening, "and she takes it off, and her body craves my touch." Jesus, shut up already. Finally I take my panties and shove them in his mouth, there, now he'll be quiet. We never make it to the bedroom, we end up f*cking right there in front of my 'wall to ceiling' windows. Not something I practice often, but I decided to go with the moment. Back to the f*cking. It was amazing. Long, hard, soft, hard again, and there were moans and exclamations of greatness. It was easy to let it all out, because I had no intentions of ever seeing this guy again. It lasted awhile, more than most, but when it was over, he was the same guy, talking about himself and I couldn't wait for him to leave. About 5 hours later I finally tell him he has to go, I like to sleep alone. As I'm shoving him out the door I realize I still don't know his name, should I ask, no, it would ruin it. So he goes. I don't ask for his number, he doesn't ask for mine. I don't watch him walk away, he just does...go away. It was simple and I've rarely thought about it since it happened. Every once in awhile I get an attack of conscience and smack myself around for being so easy. But it happened, enough said.

So I go to take the elevator up this morning, it's empty...ah...nice. Just as the doors are about to close this hand comes in through the cracks and forces the doors back open. I'm thinking to myself how f*ck*ng annoying this is....wait for the next one d*ckwad. First comes the hand, the doors open. I look down at the ground, it's early and I have not had a cup of coffee so I don't feel like facing anyone. The elevator starts it ascend, this guy is talking on his cell phone, again...annoying. I finally look up, and I freeze. Can't move. Can't even get off the elevator when the doors open at my floor. No, couldn't be. It's been 4 years, what are the chances? He politely asks me if I'm going to get off. "Off," I ask. Just then the realization hits him, almost as hard as it hit me. It would appear, I got off quite some time ago.

I still don't know his name.