Even as things were getting serious with the Diplomat and I was slipping into “accidental monogamy,” I remained in contact with several of the guys I had been dating. For the most part, these were interactions as friends, like when the Pirate came to the burlesque show with me over the weekend. Mr. Dimple is another one whose friendship has grown over the past few months. When I told him I didn't think I wanted to be sleeping with other people back in May, he took it totally in stride and never forced the issue. He was also the first person I talked to when I discovered the Diplomat's cheating.
Mr. Dimple's live-in girlfriend went out of town for a few days, and he invited me to come hang out for the day on Thursday since my internship was over. Don't worry, his girlfriend was totally cool with it- unlike some, they are upfront with each other when they're seeing other people. She and I have even hung out. The invitation was mostly as friends, though, and I was looking forward to hanging out with him.
Since his girlfriend had taken their car to go out of town, I drove down to his house. I'll admit, in going to his house for the first time I was most excited to meet his dog. He has an adorable, sweet Rottweiler (I think?) mix that is a total love-bug. The dog and I were instant friends. It may have something to do with the treats I gave him.
We picked up some Thai carry-out, which we took back to his place to eat while watching streaming netflix. Oh, how I love you, streaming netflix. We laughed our assess off at the debauched comedy of Louis CK, and then got comfy together on the couch as we started what turned out to be a bad-movie marathon. Sitting next to each other turned into leaning on him, which turned into laying together on the couch. Still, it wasn't until the end of the last movie that we started making out.
I had forgotten what an amazing kisser Mr. Dimple is. Just the right amount of pressure and tongue- he sent shivers down my spine. Just as I had been nervous before my date with Isaiah that I wasn't ready to go out with a new person, I had been wondering when I'd be ready to have sex with somebody after months of monogamy. As his hands founds his way to my bra clasp, I knew I was ready to jump back in RIGHT THEN.
And man, was it a good way to do so. We didn't even make it to the bedroom- he just bent me over the back of the couch. His hands were everywhere I wanted them to be, and his mouth moved from my shoulders to my neck to right behind my earlobes, and back again. When it was over, I collapsed into a sweaty, giggling heap on the couch. “I really needed that,” I explained, and promptly let myself fall over onto his lap.
I finally got around to collecting myself enough to get dressed and ready to go. With a huge hug, a friendly kiss, and a contented grin, I headed home.
Showing posts with label Mr. Dimple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr. Dimple. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Thursday- He Blows My...You Know
When I found out a band I like was playing downtown, I decided I was going to go, whether or not I had someone to go with. Just in case, though, I bought an extra ticket. When I offered it up to my friends and guys I'm dating, Mr. Dimple was the first to respond. That meant he won. A few hours later, though, I got an email from the Anarchist saying (half-jokingly) that he couldn't believe I didn't ask him, since I knew he liked that type of music. I told him he should still get his own ticket and then he could hang out with us.
Was that rude of me to Mr. Dimple? Quite possibly. I know some guys who are okay with polyamory in the abstract don't want to be confronted with it in the form of meeting the Other Significant Others. There was no way I was going to un-invite Mr. Dimple, though, and the Anarchist seemed so bummed that he didn't have anyone to go to the show with.
Mr. Dimple came over to my house a few hours before the show. We'd planned to go out to dinner, but hadn't decided where, when he told me that he was in a sort of foul mood and that a “really good hamburger” would help. I knew just the place- the bar/restaurant down the street from me. The food was good, the beer was cold, the waitress was hot- the perfect combination. It was already a great dinner, when the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. As she rattled off the list of possibilities, she ended with the “salted caramel cupcake, optional with or without bacon.”
She must have seen my eyes light up. I looked to Mr. Dimple for support, but he just laughed. “You want one,” she told me. “Salted caramel cupcake with bacon? Yes? Do it. You know you want to.” Now that is the kind of peer pressure I can get behind!
It was absolutely amazing. Sweet and savory and salty and greasy. The problem is, I now know there is such a delicious creature lurking just a few blocks away from my house.
When we got back to my place from dinner, I pointed out that my roommates were both gone. I seduced Mr. Dimple with the words, “I have condoms this time.” That was all it took.
Mr. Dimple likes to say that he hates the stereotype of Irish men having small penises (I'd never heard that as a stereotype, but okay.) I don't have the heart to tell him, though, that he doesn't exactly prove it wrong. Still, it's all in how you use it. The funnest (not funniest!) part is how long he orgasms. It goes on forever! By the end of it, I was giggling with the near absurdity of it. Most of his skill lies in the oral arts, though- and that's not a complaint. Every girl needs a guy who can blow her mind while he blows her....you know.
The show was great. Mr. Dimple and the Anarchist didn't really say anything to each other, but it didn't seem like either felt terribly awkward. I kept in mind that I was on a date with Mr. Dimple, though, so he was the one I showed affection to. My favorite part was when I (slightly drunkenly) tried to adjust my halter top. When I looked up, both of them did the quick eye-shift towards the ceiling. “You can look,” I told them, “you've both already seen them!”
Just like the last time he stayed the night, Mr. Dimple originally needed to get the car back to his girlfriend pretty early the next morning. In the middle of the show, though, she sent him a text. “I can take the train to work tomorrow,” it told him. “But she better be hot.” Now that is love!
He did spend the night, and since we weren't in a hurry when we got up the next morning, Mr. Dimple offered to make me breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast- it's what I usually have, but it tastes even better when you have a cute guy making it for you. When he finally left in the late morning, my roommate pointed out that it was the latest a guy had ever stayed in the morning. The Dreamer used to have to get up ridiculously early for work, and last time Mr. Dimple was over he had to leave early, too. It's kind of nice to get an early start on the day, but sleeping in and having a lazy morning together definitely has its perks, too.
Was that rude of me to Mr. Dimple? Quite possibly. I know some guys who are okay with polyamory in the abstract don't want to be confronted with it in the form of meeting the Other Significant Others. There was no way I was going to un-invite Mr. Dimple, though, and the Anarchist seemed so bummed that he didn't have anyone to go to the show with.
Mr. Dimple came over to my house a few hours before the show. We'd planned to go out to dinner, but hadn't decided where, when he told me that he was in a sort of foul mood and that a “really good hamburger” would help. I knew just the place- the bar/restaurant down the street from me. The food was good, the beer was cold, the waitress was hot- the perfect combination. It was already a great dinner, when the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. As she rattled off the list of possibilities, she ended with the “salted caramel cupcake, optional with or without bacon.”
She must have seen my eyes light up. I looked to Mr. Dimple for support, but he just laughed. “You want one,” she told me. “Salted caramel cupcake with bacon? Yes? Do it. You know you want to.” Now that is the kind of peer pressure I can get behind!
It was absolutely amazing. Sweet and savory and salty and greasy. The problem is, I now know there is such a delicious creature lurking just a few blocks away from my house.
When we got back to my place from dinner, I pointed out that my roommates were both gone. I seduced Mr. Dimple with the words, “I have condoms this time.” That was all it took.
Mr. Dimple likes to say that he hates the stereotype of Irish men having small penises (I'd never heard that as a stereotype, but okay.) I don't have the heart to tell him, though, that he doesn't exactly prove it wrong. Still, it's all in how you use it. The funnest (not funniest!) part is how long he orgasms. It goes on forever! By the end of it, I was giggling with the near absurdity of it. Most of his skill lies in the oral arts, though- and that's not a complaint. Every girl needs a guy who can blow her mind while he blows her....you know.
The show was great. Mr. Dimple and the Anarchist didn't really say anything to each other, but it didn't seem like either felt terribly awkward. I kept in mind that I was on a date with Mr. Dimple, though, so he was the one I showed affection to. My favorite part was when I (slightly drunkenly) tried to adjust my halter top. When I looked up, both of them did the quick eye-shift towards the ceiling. “You can look,” I told them, “you've both already seen them!”
Just like the last time he stayed the night, Mr. Dimple originally needed to get the car back to his girlfriend pretty early the next morning. In the middle of the show, though, she sent him a text. “I can take the train to work tomorrow,” it told him. “But she better be hot.” Now that is love!
He did spend the night, and since we weren't in a hurry when we got up the next morning, Mr. Dimple offered to make me breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast- it's what I usually have, but it tastes even better when you have a cute guy making it for you. When he finally left in the late morning, my roommate pointed out that it was the latest a guy had ever stayed in the morning. The Dreamer used to have to get up ridiculously early for work, and last time Mr. Dimple was over he had to leave early, too. It's kind of nice to get an early start on the day, but sleeping in and having a lazy morning together definitely has its perks, too.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Saturday- Knock on Wood
Saturday night was the third date with Mr. Dimple. When he discovered I had a Saturday night free, he asked, “can I have it?” with no specific plans in mind. A few days before our date, though, we were discussing our mutual love for bad scary movies, and that's when it hit me. A bad horror movie marathon!
He was supposed to come over at 4, but he texted me that he was running a little late. Me being Ms. Practical, I asked him how late, and would I have enough time for a quick shower? He said yes, so I got in. Right as I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower to dry myself off, though, my phone buzzed with a new text. He was outside.
“Ahhh!!” I yelled to my roommates. “He's here and I'm not ready!” One was already planning to take the dog outside, so she went out to meet him while I got threw on clothes as quickly as I could.
The first order of business was to go to the liquor store to pick up refreshments for our marathon. (It doesn't hurt that I love any excuse to go perusing through the microbrew section.) We ended up with a bottle of red wine- the color of blood, after all!- and a bottle of a Flemish red ale called Duchesse de Bourgogne. Incredible beer, by the way; I absolutely recommend it. When we got back, I threw together a curry for dinner and we flirted while I got more and more tipsy. Then we decided it was time to watch some movies.
The first one we put in was the original House on Haunted Hill. It was terrible, but that was kind of the point. We spent most of the time making MST3K-type comments and laughing. I also spent a good amount of my brain cycles admiring how comfortable he felt to sit next to.
Next was The Brain that Wouldn't Die. Now that is a classic piece of American cinema, let me tell you! I was laughing so hard by the end that I thought I was going to trigger an asthma attack. My roommates came home from dinner at the end of it and were cracking up just watching us crack up. It was fantastic.
As the movie came to an end, I turned towards Mr. Dimple; almost as if he read my mind, he pulled me onto his lap and we began making out furiously. He has this way of applying just the right amount of pressure when he puts his arms around me- it feels strong and secure without being uncomfortable or squeezing too much.
When we finally came up for air, I reminded him that I had dessert in the kitchen. “I'd rather have you,” he replied. That was exactly the right thing to say. We picked up our wine glasses and empty bowl of popcorn, I turned out the lights, and we headed upstairs.
Things progressed from there. When it got to the point we were in our underwear with him on top of me, I remembered- I was out of condoms.
It was bound to happen. With all my bragging on here about how prepared I am, I'd forgotten to go to the store after using the last one.
“It's okay,” he told me, as he stripped off my thong and worked his way down my body. It was more than okay, that's for sure.
When we were starting to fall asleep, he pulled me close to the heat of his body. It was perfect.
He had to leave early the next morning to get his car back because his live-in girlfriend needed it. I offered to make him breakfast before he went, though, and we chatted over eggs and toast and tea. When he left, he wrapped me up again in his strong embrace. That, I can never get enough of.
He was supposed to come over at 4, but he texted me that he was running a little late. Me being Ms. Practical, I asked him how late, and would I have enough time for a quick shower? He said yes, so I got in. Right as I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower to dry myself off, though, my phone buzzed with a new text. He was outside.
“Ahhh!!” I yelled to my roommates. “He's here and I'm not ready!” One was already planning to take the dog outside, so she went out to meet him while I got threw on clothes as quickly as I could.
The first order of business was to go to the liquor store to pick up refreshments for our marathon. (It doesn't hurt that I love any excuse to go perusing through the microbrew section.) We ended up with a bottle of red wine- the color of blood, after all!- and a bottle of a Flemish red ale called Duchesse de Bourgogne. Incredible beer, by the way; I absolutely recommend it. When we got back, I threw together a curry for dinner and we flirted while I got more and more tipsy. Then we decided it was time to watch some movies.
The first one we put in was the original House on Haunted Hill. It was terrible, but that was kind of the point. We spent most of the time making MST3K-type comments and laughing. I also spent a good amount of my brain cycles admiring how comfortable he felt to sit next to.
Next was The Brain that Wouldn't Die. Now that is a classic piece of American cinema, let me tell you! I was laughing so hard by the end that I thought I was going to trigger an asthma attack. My roommates came home from dinner at the end of it and were cracking up just watching us crack up. It was fantastic.
As the movie came to an end, I turned towards Mr. Dimple; almost as if he read my mind, he pulled me onto his lap and we began making out furiously. He has this way of applying just the right amount of pressure when he puts his arms around me- it feels strong and secure without being uncomfortable or squeezing too much.
When we finally came up for air, I reminded him that I had dessert in the kitchen. “I'd rather have you,” he replied. That was exactly the right thing to say. We picked up our wine glasses and empty bowl of popcorn, I turned out the lights, and we headed upstairs.
Things progressed from there. When it got to the point we were in our underwear with him on top of me, I remembered- I was out of condoms.
It was bound to happen. With all my bragging on here about how prepared I am, I'd forgotten to go to the store after using the last one.
“It's okay,” he told me, as he stripped off my thong and worked his way down my body. It was more than okay, that's for sure.
When we were starting to fall asleep, he pulled me close to the heat of his body. It was perfect.
He had to leave early the next morning to get his car back because his live-in girlfriend needed it. I offered to make him breakfast before he went, though, and we chatted over eggs and toast and tea. When he left, he wrapped me up again in his strong embrace. That, I can never get enough of.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Saturday- Eating with our Hands
Since the Dreamer didn't get any of the painting done of Friday, I offered to do it on Saturday. For more money, of course. My momma didn't raise no fool.
I was chatting with Mr. Dimple the night before and discovered that the house was in his neighborhood. You can't pass up good fortune like that, so we decided to meet for lunch. Passing all the Ethiopian restaurants in the area the day before had given me a craving; I was thankful that he is also a fan.
When I walked up to the restaurant, Mr. Dimple was leaning on a lightpost outside. I couldn't help but giggle at the image- sunglasses, his arm crossed, one foot up. It was like something right out of The Cool Kid's Guide to Being Cool. Granted, he pretty much looks like one of the Cool Kids all the time, but in the rock 'n roll way, not the pretty preppy boy way.
We split a big combo platter of food. I was thankful he could hold his own with me- I get nervous eating Ethiopian food with someone who is timid, because I feel like I am taking all of the good stuff for myself. I also eat really fast, so it makes me feel like I'm eating a disproportionate amount. We didn't have that problem, though, and everything was devoured, even some of the injera that the food was served on. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, get yourself to an Ethiopian restaurant and try it! Alternately, this may give you a bit of an idea.)
We spent the whole meal laughing and talking. He really puts me at ease- I don't feel like he's judging me, and I can be as goofy or as highbrow as I want and he takes it all in stride. Plus there's that damn dimple...it peaks out every time he smiles and just makes me bust out into a grin.
He walked me back to my car, when I realized that I didn't know how to get to the house I was painting from the restaurant. He looked it up on his phone for me, and I sidled up really close while he did it. It was to see what was on the phone, of course. What, you thought I had some other reason for wanting to stand close to him?
Last time we said goodbye without a kiss, and we weren't going to let that happen this time. Really, it turned into three kisses- that awesome double kiss where you pull away a little bit, then go again because you're not ready to stop; then after we'd separated and were saying goodbye, I planted another one on him.
Mmm.
I was chatting with Mr. Dimple the night before and discovered that the house was in his neighborhood. You can't pass up good fortune like that, so we decided to meet for lunch. Passing all the Ethiopian restaurants in the area the day before had given me a craving; I was thankful that he is also a fan.
When I walked up to the restaurant, Mr. Dimple was leaning on a lightpost outside. I couldn't help but giggle at the image- sunglasses, his arm crossed, one foot up. It was like something right out of The Cool Kid's Guide to Being Cool. Granted, he pretty much looks like one of the Cool Kids all the time, but in the rock 'n roll way, not the pretty preppy boy way.
We split a big combo platter of food. I was thankful he could hold his own with me- I get nervous eating Ethiopian food with someone who is timid, because I feel like I am taking all of the good stuff for myself. I also eat really fast, so it makes me feel like I'm eating a disproportionate amount. We didn't have that problem, though, and everything was devoured, even some of the injera that the food was served on. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, get yourself to an Ethiopian restaurant and try it! Alternately, this may give you a bit of an idea.)
We spent the whole meal laughing and talking. He really puts me at ease- I don't feel like he's judging me, and I can be as goofy or as highbrow as I want and he takes it all in stride. Plus there's that damn dimple...it peaks out every time he smiles and just makes me bust out into a grin.
He walked me back to my car, when I realized that I didn't know how to get to the house I was painting from the restaurant. He looked it up on his phone for me, and I sidled up really close while he did it. It was to see what was on the phone, of course. What, you thought I had some other reason for wanting to stand close to him?
Last time we said goodbye without a kiss, and we weren't going to let that happen this time. Really, it turned into three kisses- that awesome double kiss where you pull away a little bit, then go again because you're not ready to stop; then after we'd separated and were saying goodbye, I planted another one on him.
Mmm.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Wednesday- In Which I Learn about Electronics Packaging
I have realized that I definitely have a “thing” for the geek uniform of shaved head and facial hair. It's not a conscious thing, but when I see guys like McCool or the Blues Man I'm attracted to them, and only later do I realize that they are in that category. When I saw photos of Mr. Dimple on the dating website, I had the same reaction.
We'd originally planned to meet for dinner Thursday night, in the city where he lives about an hour from me. I had a job interview closer by on Wednesday morning, though, so I suggested we move the date to lunch on Wednesday. It was a good thing I did, as he discovered he'd double booked on Thursday night. Apparently, keeping track of plans isn't his strong point.
He chose a Thai restaurant he really likes. I haven't been able to find a pad thai that lives up to my standards yet, so I was excited to try it. Unfortunately the pad thai wasn't great, but Mr. Dimple was.
The first thing I noticed when he walked through the door was his giant grin. Well, that and the aforementioned geek uniform of shaved head and facial hair. It just does something for me, I can't help it! The next time he grinned at me while we were sitting down, my eyes were drawn to the big dimple that popped up. It made me want to lean across the table and kiss his cheek right then.
Surprisingly, I showed some self restraint. We had a great time talking over lunch, though, and kept telling terrible, off-color jokes to make each other laugh. He also explained to me his research that he is completing to finish his PhD dissertation. It's in “electronics packaging,” and would you believe it? It has nothing to do with how Amazon.com chooses to put your new DVD player in a cardboard box!
When we got up to leave, he discovered a common problem for most men that date me- I am taller than he was. Especially in my 3-inch heels. That isn't something that concerns me at all, but for some men, it really makes them uncomfortable. I had to tease him about it, of course, saying “I like to wear heels to intimidate men.” “I'm not intimidated,” he told me, and I'm pretty sure he meant it.
We stopped to say goodbye at the curb, and I stepped off while he was still standing on the sidewalk so that he could feel taller for a minute. I'm kidding. Or am I? Either way, he noticed and laughed about it, and I told him we should just carry a stool around for him. He gave me a big hug, but I hesitated in going in for a kiss, and so did he. So we separated and went to our cars.
When I got there, I couldn't resist teasing him a little more, so I texted “what, no kiss?” I got a “I could ask you the same thing!” in return. Touche, Mr. Dimple. Touche.
We'd originally planned to meet for dinner Thursday night, in the city where he lives about an hour from me. I had a job interview closer by on Wednesday morning, though, so I suggested we move the date to lunch on Wednesday. It was a good thing I did, as he discovered he'd double booked on Thursday night. Apparently, keeping track of plans isn't his strong point.
He chose a Thai restaurant he really likes. I haven't been able to find a pad thai that lives up to my standards yet, so I was excited to try it. Unfortunately the pad thai wasn't great, but Mr. Dimple was.
The first thing I noticed when he walked through the door was his giant grin. Well, that and the aforementioned geek uniform of shaved head and facial hair. It just does something for me, I can't help it! The next time he grinned at me while we were sitting down, my eyes were drawn to the big dimple that popped up. It made me want to lean across the table and kiss his cheek right then.
Surprisingly, I showed some self restraint. We had a great time talking over lunch, though, and kept telling terrible, off-color jokes to make each other laugh. He also explained to me his research that he is completing to finish his PhD dissertation. It's in “electronics packaging,” and would you believe it? It has nothing to do with how Amazon.com chooses to put your new DVD player in a cardboard box!
When we got up to leave, he discovered a common problem for most men that date me- I am taller than he was. Especially in my 3-inch heels. That isn't something that concerns me at all, but for some men, it really makes them uncomfortable. I had to tease him about it, of course, saying “I like to wear heels to intimidate men.” “I'm not intimidated,” he told me, and I'm pretty sure he meant it.
We stopped to say goodbye at the curb, and I stepped off while he was still standing on the sidewalk so that he could feel taller for a minute. I'm kidding. Or am I? Either way, he noticed and laughed about it, and I told him we should just carry a stool around for him. He gave me a big hug, but I hesitated in going in for a kiss, and so did he. So we separated and went to our cars.
When I got there, I couldn't resist teasing him a little more, so I texted “what, no kiss?” I got a “I could ask you the same thing!” in return. Touche, Mr. Dimple. Touche.
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