After meeting up with McCool on Friday night, I was even more anxious to finally get to see him again one-on-one. With his crazy work schedule, it's almost impossible for us to set plans at any point in advance. While messaging with him online Monday night, he mentioned needing to de-stress, and I immediately jumped at the possibility of getting together. I sweetened the pot with an offer of a bottle of whiskey. Even though it was 8:30 at night, he was still at work, so we made plans to meet at his house around 9:30.
I jumped in the shower and shaved as quickly as I could. One of these days, I'll learn not to shave when I'm in a rush! Ouch. Then I rushed to blow-dry my hair enough that it wasn't sopping wet, so I could feel at least somewhat presentable.
By this point my roommates were wondering what in the world all the commotion was, so I explained to them that I was going to meet McCool! ZOMG!!! At that moment, my phone buzzed with a text. “There's a problem” was all it said.
“Oh no,” my roommate told me, “he did not just say there's a problem. If he knew that my roommate was just showering and blow-drying her hair at 9 o'clock at night, he would know better than to send a text like that.”
Thankfully, the problem was only with finding parking. A baseball game had blocked off the streets near his house, but I assured him that I would figure something out, and he wasn't going to get out of seeing me that easily!
I did manage to find parking a few blocks away without any trouble, and when I got up to this floor I knew I had the right place when I saw the “Go Away” doormat. Unfortunately, once I was inside it became even more clear I had come to the right place- every room had at least one item of Steelers-branded memorabilia. How a man who is so incredible every other way can possibly like the Steelers is beyond me.
We opened up the bottle of whiskey and sat on the couch to chat. He told me that he was glad I'd convinced him to be social that night, and I couldn't stop grinning. We were both staring out the window looking at the baseball stadium when I finally leaned over and kissed him.
Now, the first time we kissed was only a quick goodbye at the end of our first date. This time, there were sparks in the air and butterflies in my stomach. Alright, so that's a little bit of an exaggeration. Point is, it was everything I'd hoped for.
I moved back to my side of the couch, where I lasted for maybe a minute. Then we were on top of each other, all hands and lips and tongues. He kept running his hands through my hair, or putting his hands on both sides of my face while we kissed. It was incredible. He had me on my back on the couch when I suggested he take my shirt off. Not long after that, he stood up, grabbed my hand, and started leading me back to the bedroom.
He laid me back on the bed with just the right amount of roughness. He nibbled my neck and ears while running his hands on my back and stomach. He kept alternating between being aggressive and a little rough, like when he was holding my hands down over my head while he played with my breasts, and being incredibly soft and gentle.
We must've made out on the bed for at least a half hour, slowly shedding items of clothing, when I finally gasped out “I want you.” He got a mischievous sparkle in his eye as he removed the final piece of what I was wearing. The man's not just a good kisser, if you catch my drift.
Then I told him it was my turn, and we switched places. It was only a few minutes when he moaned “I want you so bad.” I stopped, looked him in the eyes, and said “so take me.”
And take me he did.
It was incredible. It sounds weird, but he was firm and demanding without being too rough, yet he'd interrupt it with these periods of being soft and slow. It was the perfect combination. He made my body feel ways I've never experienced before, at least not in such quick succession. I didn't want it to end, except I wanted to feel him finish.
It was truly mind blowing. I've had plenty of good sex in my life, but this was as if he was reading my mind and had been with me for years, he just knew exactly where my buttons were and how to push them. When we were done, I finally collapsed on the bed next to him and giggled for a while.
“Was it worth waiting three months?” he asked me.
The answer was an unequivocal yes. I just don't know if I can wait that long before the next time.
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