So, after my venting yesterday (Cougar Nights: Part 2) it's time to continue the leopard dress story. For the first part of the story, see Leopard Dress: Part One. Creative titles, I know.
And now for part two of the leopard dress ...
I was at Slim's Last Chance and someone was eyeballing me from the end of the bar. I smiled at him, then turned my attention back to the music. I could still feel him staring at me, so I glanced over and smiled at him occasionally. Eventually he walked over to me and asked if he could buy me a drink. I smiled and nodded yes. (Score! I wouldn't have to go in the bathroom and secretly use the alcohol in my flask to top off my drink. How I hate spending my money on alcohol - spending men's money on alcohol is okay.) He put his arm around my waist and led me to the empty bar stool next to his. Aaron and I talked (yelled?) during the entire music set, with the whole gettin'-to-know-ya chit chat. He had a rugged looking face (not stomped-on-with-golf-cleats rugged, but he had some minor acne scarring), but was good looking with short dark blond hair and brown eyes. He was a little taller than me with an average build. He'd already had a few drinks, after a long day at work. He's a mechanic at a car dealership. We had a great conversation as I sipped on my free Sailor Jerry and diet Coke.
When the Hillbilly Hellcats came on, I wanted to pay attention to the music because I went to Slim's to see them. So, I swirled around on my bar stool, turned my back to Aaron, and watched the band. Aaron started massaging my neck and shoulders. It felt good, so I didn't stop him. Then he ran his hands down my sides and slipped them down the back of my dress and found the top of my shapewear (busted!) When he started caressing the outer sides of my breasts (one of my favorite spots), I nudged his hands gently away with my arms, so he caressed my ass instead. He ran his hand over my collar bone and pulled me toward him so my back was on his chest and whispered in my ear one of the most romantic things I've ever heard: "Let's go to your car. I want to fuck you right now." I turned around and smiled at him, ignored his comment then focused my attention on the Hellcats. I came to see the Hellcats, and I was going to see the Hellcats damn it. Plus, after my encounter with Carwash Boy (see Southern Comfort at the Carwash), I already decided that I didn't want to be a hook-up girl. Even so, I let Aaron continue to explore my body and he eagerly enjoyed my topography.
When the music ended, he suggested that we go to my car. By this time, the man had already felt every inch of my torso so there was no way he was date-able material, and I really struggled with the whole hook-up girl thing. I thought "This isn't what I'm looking for, so why do I want to invite it into my life? I should be assertive and say that I'm not interested in hooking-up but that he could call me if he wanted to take me on a date." Then I thought again: I let the man explore my body while sitting on a bar stool in front of him, for anyone who was watching to witness. What a fucking tramp! I obviously didn't want to date this guy, or I would have played the game. And, well, I was trying to stop loving my Middle Eastern man and was in a self-destructive mood, so why the hell not?
Aaron and I went to my car. Under the sheen of the street lamp, he pressed me against the side of my car and kissed me hard, pinning my arms above my head with one hand and running his other hand along the side of my body. Aaron's hand went up my dress, then two men walked past us. Suddenly, Aaron froze, then his hand came out from underneath my dress, he removed his tongue from my mouth, and laughed and said "Sorry, man." "No worries," one of the guys replied as they laughed too. Aaron and I must have looked like we'd gotten caught with our hands in the cookie jar. We crawled in the back seat of my car and made out for a while. He penis came out (surprise, surprise) and I said I didn't want to have sex in the car. That was my passive way of trying to stop things before they went to far, but I wasn't very successful. He suggested we go to his house. I agreed.
He hopped on his Harley and I followed him in my car to his house in West Seattle. Yes, I guess I'm crazy. For a brief moment I thought "What the fuck am I doing? I don't even know this guy!" but I never felt any weird vibes from him and wasn't afraid. His house didn't have much furniture, but what he did have was from the 50s, which I loved, I didn't see any apparent torture chambers, so that was good. We made out on the sofa, on top of a green sleeping bag which I guessed was his son's because there was a Happy Birthday Dad card on the fireplace mantle - check out me and my sleuthing skills! His penis came out again (why do they do that?), and I insisted we use a condom (what is it with men and their disregard for condoms?) He was either too drunk or had erectile dysfunction because his dick wouldn't stay hard. He ate me out, then disappeared for a minute.When he came back, he was carrying something that looked familiar. Was that a vibrator?! Hell yeah. He turned it on and stuck it in my pussy, moving it in and out slowly. I briefly wondered if he cleaned it first, but it was too late. It was already in. I hoped any disease carrying bacteria or virus had died long ago. He fucked me with the vibrator, I sucked his cock (who knew where it'd been...ewwww), and we fooled around for a while. Then he passed out on top of me...and started snoring. Great. I laid there naked, staring at the ceiling, with a snoring naked man passed out on top of me. How I hate snoring. I never feared for my life, but I began to fear for his. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and he eventually woke up. It was about 4am and he had to be to work by 8am. He suggested we go to bed. I didn't particularly want to sleep over, but I was too tired to drive home, so I followed him to his bedroom in hopes of getting some sleep.
Aaron wrapped his arm around me and pulled my body against his. I felt like I was caught in a spider's web and I was his prey. Then I felt sad because I missed snuggling with my Middle Eastern man (we used to sleep like pretzels; I still miss the feel and smell of his body against mine while we slept) and I was on the verge of tears when Aaron's snoring brought me back to reality. I thought "What the fuck am I doing here?!" But the sound of the human chainsaw continually disrupted my thoughts. It was like a dysfunctional meditation practice, where I focused on the sound of Aaron's snoring to help redirect my thoughts. I nudged Aaron periodically to quiet the snoring beast, lest I take a chainsaw and hack him to pieces. The sound of snoring brings out violent tendencies in me. I didn't know what time it was, but thought it would be rude to leave. Rude? What was I thinking? It was a hook-up and nothing more.
I didn't sleep at all. When Aaron woke up, we'd fool around for a bit and then he'd fall back asleep. I'd endure his snoring, plot his death, then shake him so he would stop snoring, then he'd snore again, I'd plot his death again, and repeat. When would he get up to go work?! Ugh. Finally, he woke up for good and I'd soon be released from his clutches. His dick was fully functional, so we fucked for a while (yes, he wore a condom). I didn't care enough about the encounter to try to achieve an orgasm. I was tired, ready to leave, and wanted him to get off so I could be on my way. I stared at the ceiling, thought about the things I wanted to do that day, etc. Finally, he shot his wad into the condom and it was over. We both got dressed, he asked for my number (why bother, really?), and we went our separate ways.
I don't know if my leopard dress is really lucky, but I do know it takes a lot of self-confidence to wear it. If meaningless hook-ups are a good thing, then it's lucky. When I wear it again, I doubt it will help me attract dateable men. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll have another leopard dress story to share soon.
And now for part two of the leopard dress ...
I was at Slim's Last Chance and someone was eyeballing me from the end of the bar. I smiled at him, then turned my attention back to the music. I could still feel him staring at me, so I glanced over and smiled at him occasionally. Eventually he walked over to me and asked if he could buy me a drink. I smiled and nodded yes. (Score! I wouldn't have to go in the bathroom and secretly use the alcohol in my flask to top off my drink. How I hate spending my money on alcohol - spending men's money on alcohol is okay.) He put his arm around my waist and led me to the empty bar stool next to his. Aaron and I talked (yelled?) during the entire music set, with the whole gettin'-to-know-ya chit chat. He had a rugged looking face (not stomped-on-with-golf-cleats rugged, but he had some minor acne scarring), but was good looking with short dark blond hair and brown eyes. He was a little taller than me with an average build. He'd already had a few drinks, after a long day at work. He's a mechanic at a car dealership. We had a great conversation as I sipped on my free Sailor Jerry and diet Coke.
When the Hillbilly Hellcats came on, I wanted to pay attention to the music because I went to Slim's to see them. So, I swirled around on my bar stool, turned my back to Aaron, and watched the band. Aaron started massaging my neck and shoulders. It felt good, so I didn't stop him. Then he ran his hands down my sides and slipped them down the back of my dress and found the top of my shapewear (busted!) When he started caressing the outer sides of my breasts (one of my favorite spots), I nudged his hands gently away with my arms, so he caressed my ass instead. He ran his hand over my collar bone and pulled me toward him so my back was on his chest and whispered in my ear one of the most romantic things I've ever heard: "Let's go to your car. I want to fuck you right now." I turned around and smiled at him, ignored his comment then focused my attention on the Hellcats. I came to see the Hellcats, and I was going to see the Hellcats damn it. Plus, after my encounter with Carwash Boy (see Southern Comfort at the Carwash), I already decided that I didn't want to be a hook-up girl. Even so, I let Aaron continue to explore my body and he eagerly enjoyed my topography.
When the music ended, he suggested that we go to my car. By this time, the man had already felt every inch of my torso so there was no way he was date-able material, and I really struggled with the whole hook-up girl thing. I thought "This isn't what I'm looking for, so why do I want to invite it into my life? I should be assertive and say that I'm not interested in hooking-up but that he could call me if he wanted to take me on a date." Then I thought again: I let the man explore my body while sitting on a bar stool in front of him, for anyone who was watching to witness. What a fucking tramp! I obviously didn't want to date this guy, or I would have played the game. And, well, I was trying to stop loving my Middle Eastern man and was in a self-destructive mood, so why the hell not?
Aaron and I went to my car. Under the sheen of the street lamp, he pressed me against the side of my car and kissed me hard, pinning my arms above my head with one hand and running his other hand along the side of my body. Aaron's hand went up my dress, then two men walked past us. Suddenly, Aaron froze, then his hand came out from underneath my dress, he removed his tongue from my mouth, and laughed and said "Sorry, man." "No worries," one of the guys replied as they laughed too. Aaron and I must have looked like we'd gotten caught with our hands in the cookie jar. We crawled in the back seat of my car and made out for a while. He penis came out (surprise, surprise) and I said I didn't want to have sex in the car. That was my passive way of trying to stop things before they went to far, but I wasn't very successful. He suggested we go to his house. I agreed.
He hopped on his Harley and I followed him in my car to his house in West Seattle. Yes, I guess I'm crazy. For a brief moment I thought "What the fuck am I doing? I don't even know this guy!" but I never felt any weird vibes from him and wasn't afraid. His house didn't have much furniture, but what he did have was from the 50s, which I loved, I didn't see any apparent torture chambers, so that was good. We made out on the sofa, on top of a green sleeping bag which I guessed was his son's because there was a Happy Birthday Dad card on the fireplace mantle - check out me and my sleuthing skills! His penis came out again (why do they do that?), and I insisted we use a condom (what is it with men and their disregard for condoms?) He was either too drunk or had erectile dysfunction because his dick wouldn't stay hard. He ate me out, then disappeared for a minute.When he came back, he was carrying something that looked familiar. Was that a vibrator?! Hell yeah. He turned it on and stuck it in my pussy, moving it in and out slowly. I briefly wondered if he cleaned it first, but it was too late. It was already in. I hoped any disease carrying bacteria or virus had died long ago. He fucked me with the vibrator, I sucked his cock (who knew where it'd been...ewwww), and we fooled around for a while. Then he passed out on top of me...and started snoring. Great. I laid there naked, staring at the ceiling, with a snoring naked man passed out on top of me. How I hate snoring. I never feared for my life, but I began to fear for his. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and he eventually woke up. It was about 4am and he had to be to work by 8am. He suggested we go to bed. I didn't particularly want to sleep over, but I was too tired to drive home, so I followed him to his bedroom in hopes of getting some sleep.
Aaron wrapped his arm around me and pulled my body against his. I felt like I was caught in a spider's web and I was his prey. Then I felt sad because I missed snuggling with my Middle Eastern man (we used to sleep like pretzels; I still miss the feel and smell of his body against mine while we slept) and I was on the verge of tears when Aaron's snoring brought me back to reality. I thought "What the fuck am I doing here?!" But the sound of the human chainsaw continually disrupted my thoughts. It was like a dysfunctional meditation practice, where I focused on the sound of Aaron's snoring to help redirect my thoughts. I nudged Aaron periodically to quiet the snoring beast, lest I take a chainsaw and hack him to pieces. The sound of snoring brings out violent tendencies in me. I didn't know what time it was, but thought it would be rude to leave. Rude? What was I thinking? It was a hook-up and nothing more.
I didn't sleep at all. When Aaron woke up, we'd fool around for a bit and then he'd fall back asleep. I'd endure his snoring, plot his death, then shake him so he would stop snoring, then he'd snore again, I'd plot his death again, and repeat. When would he get up to go work?! Ugh. Finally, he woke up for good and I'd soon be released from his clutches. His dick was fully functional, so we fucked for a while (yes, he wore a condom). I didn't care enough about the encounter to try to achieve an orgasm. I was tired, ready to leave, and wanted him to get off so I could be on my way. I stared at the ceiling, thought about the things I wanted to do that day, etc. Finally, he shot his wad into the condom and it was over. We both got dressed, he asked for my number (why bother, really?), and we went our separate ways.
I don't know if my leopard dress is really lucky, but I do know it takes a lot of self-confidence to wear it. If meaningless hook-ups are a good thing, then it's lucky. When I wear it again, I doubt it will help me attract dateable men. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll have another leopard dress story to share soon.
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