Before I continue with part three of Three Shades of Andy, there's a bit of other information I'll share first that relates to my encounter with Andy. In August, I met Matt by replying to an email my cousin sent to everyone in her address book warning us to be weary of people throwing eggs at our car windows and baby carriers on the side of the road, and to call 211 or some other number instead of 911 in case of an emergency - things that seemed to be dead ringers for urban legends. I did some research (academic dork and lover of urban legends that I am), and the information was indeed the stuff of urban legends. So I replied to my cousin's email and explained that these were urban legends and that we should still call 911 in case of an emergency. Matt replied to me and we exchanged emails for a few weeks, then we finally met at our mothership - Trophy Cupcakes. It was like Matt and I had known each other for ages. Even though we only hung out a few times, Matt invited me to his birthday party where I met Ethan. Ethan and I hit it off and had several things in common, but I was still in a relationship with the Egyptian so I wasn't looking to meet anyone. Even so, Ethan and I exchanged some emails and eventually hung out in early December. I hadn't broken up with the Egyptian yet, but that was only because he'd been avoiding me since Thanksgiving - he knew my wrath was coming which it did in mid-December. In the interim, Ethan was busy but we eventually hung out again a few days after Christmas. Neither Ethan nor I were in the mindset to date anyone, so we had non-date dates. Despite this, our relationship quickly developed into an emotional and non-sexual intimate connection, with a lot of playful sexual banter but no behavior to make that banter, well, anything but lighthearted and silly sexual banter. We spent New Year's Eve watching Dexter, then Friday nights became "Ethan and Phelan" nights, which has now spilled over into Saturdays and/or Sundays too as our schedules allow.
On our fourth Friday night, we made a pizza together. After the pizza was in the oven, I went into the bathroom. I closed the door, sat on the toilet to pee, and noticed that there was a big black dildo perched on the counter top next to the sink. I thought "What the fuck?! Did Ethan bring his dildo here?! Why would he do that? Does he want to fuck me with it? We haven't even kissed yet!" Then I started laughing and yelled through the closed door, "Ethan, there's a black dildo in here!" Ethan played it off. "I don't know what you're talking about...a black dildo?" he replied in faux shock. "Yes, a black dildo! There's a black dildo on the counter! It's staring at me!" I yelled as I cracked up. He'd obviously planted it there as a joke, and I welcomed and loved it. I'm sure some women would have been mortified, but Ethan knew me better than that after only a few weeks.
The pizza was still in the oven, so I joined Ethan on the sofa. I removed the center back cushion (like I always do), climbed over the back of the sofa (like I can do as an adult, but never as a child), and plopped down next to Ethan. But there was something hard poking my ass. I jumped up to investigate - there was another black dildo on the sofa! I started cracking up again, then faked like I was riding it like a cowgirl and moaning like Sally in the orgasm scene of When Harry Met Sally. Ethan couldn't contain himself, he was laughing so hard. We both started laughing so hard that we were crying. He thought I'd enjoy discovering the black dildos, and he was right.
When the pizza was ready, I fetched it from the oven, served our food, and then we sat down at the table to eat. Ethan explained how he got the dildos from the "free table" at work (he works for a company where the employees can get free personal products once in a while), how he had to stealthy hide them from me while we were preparing dinner, and how he thought I needed two - one for each orifice. It was hilarious. What does this say about me? Hummm. Don't answer that.
I shared this story with my mom and one of my friends, and they gave me some good ideas of what I could do with these two dildos on my next Friday night with Ethan. Ethan wanted sweet potatoes for dinner, so I mashed them and shaped them into a vulva and put the black dildo in the center - thanks for the idea Mom! Ethan and I laughed and ate around the dildo. I stood the other dildo in the center of a bowl of nuts - thanks for the idea Bun Bun! - and poured sweetened condensed milk (which Ethan always puts in his tea) all over the head and shaft so it looked like it had man jizz all over it. Ethan grabbed the dildo and worked it like corn on the cob, using his teeth and tongue to remove bits of the sweetened condensed milk from the dildo (no, he's not gay). When it came time to drink tea, Ethan dunked the tip of the dildo in his cup so the remnants of the sweetened condensed milk would melt into his tea. Too funny! This man cracks me up.
Eventually, one dildo found its home on a corner of the bathtub, next to my squeaky seahorse bath toy I recently brought back from Scripps Aquarium in Chicago (I love seahorses!). The squeaky seahorse and dildo had a relatively short-live torrid affair; the squeaky seahorse liked to mount the didlo and the dildo like to ram the squeaky seahorse in his squeaker or butt. They did all sorts of lewd things to each other. I dressed the other dildo in a tiki mask and grass skirt; it lives next to my real tiki which sits atop my entertainment center. The dildos were part of my normal decor...until I met Andy.
On our fourth Friday night, we made a pizza together. After the pizza was in the oven, I went into the bathroom. I closed the door, sat on the toilet to pee, and noticed that there was a big black dildo perched on the counter top next to the sink. I thought "What the fuck?! Did Ethan bring his dildo here?! Why would he do that? Does he want to fuck me with it? We haven't even kissed yet!" Then I started laughing and yelled through the closed door, "Ethan, there's a black dildo in here!" Ethan played it off. "I don't know what you're talking about...a black dildo?" he replied in faux shock. "Yes, a black dildo! There's a black dildo on the counter! It's staring at me!" I yelled as I cracked up. He'd obviously planted it there as a joke, and I welcomed and loved it. I'm sure some women would have been mortified, but Ethan knew me better than that after only a few weeks.
The pizza was still in the oven, so I joined Ethan on the sofa. I removed the center back cushion (like I always do), climbed over the back of the sofa (like I can do as an adult, but never as a child), and plopped down next to Ethan. But there was something hard poking my ass. I jumped up to investigate - there was another black dildo on the sofa! I started cracking up again, then faked like I was riding it like a cowgirl and moaning like Sally in the orgasm scene of When Harry Met Sally. Ethan couldn't contain himself, he was laughing so hard. We both started laughing so hard that we were crying. He thought I'd enjoy discovering the black dildos, and he was right.
When the pizza was ready, I fetched it from the oven, served our food, and then we sat down at the table to eat. Ethan explained how he got the dildos from the "free table" at work (he works for a company where the employees can get free personal products once in a while), how he had to stealthy hide them from me while we were preparing dinner, and how he thought I needed two - one for each orifice. It was hilarious. What does this say about me? Hummm. Don't answer that.
I shared this story with my mom and one of my friends, and they gave me some good ideas of what I could do with these two dildos on my next Friday night with Ethan. Ethan wanted sweet potatoes for dinner, so I mashed them and shaped them into a vulva and put the black dildo in the center - thanks for the idea Mom! Ethan and I laughed and ate around the dildo. I stood the other dildo in the center of a bowl of nuts - thanks for the idea Bun Bun! - and poured sweetened condensed milk (which Ethan always puts in his tea) all over the head and shaft so it looked like it had man jizz all over it. Ethan grabbed the dildo and worked it like corn on the cob, using his teeth and tongue to remove bits of the sweetened condensed milk from the dildo (no, he's not gay). When it came time to drink tea, Ethan dunked the tip of the dildo in his cup so the remnants of the sweetened condensed milk would melt into his tea. Too funny! This man cracks me up.
Eventually, one dildo found its home on a corner of the bathtub, next to my squeaky seahorse bath toy I recently brought back from Scripps Aquarium in Chicago (I love seahorses!). The squeaky seahorse and dildo had a relatively short-live torrid affair; the squeaky seahorse liked to mount the didlo and the dildo like to ram the squeaky seahorse in his squeaker or butt. They did all sorts of lewd things to each other. I dressed the other dildo in a tiki mask and grass skirt; it lives next to my real tiki which sits atop my entertainment center. The dildos were part of my normal decor...until I met Andy.
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