Manderella

It has literally been Years since I last wrote a sexy story but I was re-reading one of my old ones last week and thought, I miss that. I'm just gonna give it 2 hours and see what comes... It's not my favorite of my stories, but it was sure great to be back at the keyboard. Feel free to let me know what you thought. I love feedback. :) -MC

*****

It's been 4 days, 3 hours and 32 minutes since his last text. I promise, I'm not neurotic, I'm just really into him and, well, having a crush on someone does fucked up shit to a normally rational mind. I know, I sound 13, counting the minutes and talking about crushes but seriously, when you're 31 and still single, while all of your friends are sleep deprived citizens of babyville, meeting a decent guy who doesn't set off your douche-o-meter is a: Big. Fucking. Deal.

I suppose it doesn't help that I really do want that big romantic amazing relationship that only happens in chick flicks. It's it really so much to ask for a guy to want me more than his next beer? My most recent ex, and by ex I mean guy I was settling for because the sex was ok and that was better than the three month dry spell before that was a cop. It's true, there's a certain sexiness that goes with the serve and protect/uniform man but his affinity for trying to choke me as he came really did nothing for me. I have nothing against a little BDSM roleplay now and then, but I also happen to like, I don't know, BREATHING.

I truly didn't start to feel panicked about the absence of good guys in my life until my late twenties. Up to then, I really just relished the fact that I could walk into a bar in a pushup bra and short skirt (well, with some top, preferably showing off my wonderbra induced cleavage) and take home any guy I wanted. I'm tall, so I'd immediately rule out anyone who didn't at least stand as tall as me in heals. I also ruled out excessive tattoos. I have nothing against tasteful, meaningful pieces but the guys who were head to toe covered in ink just didn't tickle my fancy... I would however be willing to bend this rule for Adam Levine. He has too much ink but, God what I wouldn't do to that man.

My high school best friend got married when we were 20. I pitied her. I couldn't imagine being stuck with someone for the rest of my life that I met at a frat party. To her credit, they are still together with 2 kids, 3 dogs, 1 cat and 4 chickens. They don't have a white picket fence but they still manage to have sex at least twice a week. I'm told that's a lot for a married with children sex life.

The rest of our circle of friends has all been married. Granted, more than half of them are divorced. I'm not judging them. I think marriage is probably pretty hard and even more so when you get married young before you know who you are. My beef with all of this is that now that I'm 31, I feel like I do know who I am. I've been teaching 7th grade math and science for enough years to have worn off the novelty. I love my guilty pleasure tv shows; Keeping Up With the Kardashians and anything to do with the Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise. I don't go to church, much to my father's dismay but I do enjoy joining one of my hippy (married) friends for random drumming circles and meditations.

Before you ask, yes of course I've tried online dating, speed dating, hitting on random guys in the grocery store. I've let my friends set me up, my mom set me up, even my Vice Principal, though that was creepy because she fixed me up with her ex! I've tried that Events and Adventures group and that It's Just Lunch matchmaking deal. I'm. Still. Single.

Of course, all of this makes me wonder if there isn't something really wrong with me. If even Casey, the literature snob who refers to Whitman as "Walt" ie "Walt's poems just really speak to the emptiness in my soul" has found a man to follow her to open mic nights and all you can eat sushi bars, then where's my guy who thinks that my obsession with trash tv is adorable and thinks it's hot that a tall, sexy, thin blonde knows enough about science to teach it to junior highers?!? Did I mention that Casey has stringy, greasy hair and is still wearing her favorite pair of shoes from 10 years ago? I'm pretty sure the What Not to Wear ladies could raid her life and make her a poster child.

At any rate, now that you have the slightest bit of background, allow me to fast forward to Seth... the nontexting object of my desire. Seth is the exact opposite of my type. He's 5'5, covered in tattoos and a hipster musician to boot. He sings songs about love and loss that just really speak to the emptiness in my soul... sorry, I had Casey's line in my head. His music really is beautiful, sort of Damien Rice meets Billy Joel. I started to fall for him just a little when he sang a song about his parents' divorce and how he wished their breakup could have been more amicable.

After his set, he made a beeline for me. I was flattered because the bar was packed with pretty hot girls, but I wasn't sincerely interested. 5'5? Yeah. No. However as we talked and talked and talked, closing down the bar, I started to wonder if that rule wasn't just the tiniest bit shallow. I don't believe in soul mates, but seriously, what if the love of my life is short and I've blown him off given my completely superficial rule?!?

Just as the night was drawing to a close a group of fairly drunk women accosted Seth, asking for autographs and trying to grope him. After several comments about how beautiful his eyes were, I decided it was time to go. While it was flattering that he'd singled me out, I had no desire to be a groupie. Watching those women definitely left me with a terrible taste in my mouth. I remembered my objections to musicians in the first place. I don't want every woman from here to Poughkeepsie trying to get in my man's pants. Coincidentally, that's my beef with fire fighters too...

Walking out to my car, leaving the whole pathetic scene behind me, I was stalled by a text from my best friend, Tyler. He's the firefighter who taught me that those guys couldn't be trusted. We've hooked up a couple of times, all late late at night when nothing else was happening. The sex is good but he's the king of non-commital, so I know better than to hope that will turn into anything. Besides, there are some friendships that are really worth keeping and Tyler has always had my back.

"Wanna come over and sit on my face?" his text read.

I laughed aloud, knowing that he was only half kidding. While I have heard many a man claim to be obsessed with going down on women, Tyler is the only one I've ever met who was any good at it. He doesn't need any sort of connection to tempt him into oral... just a well maintained vag and a pretty clit. Truly though, I don't have the foggiest idea what makes a clit pretty. I find them reasonably nondescript, but apparently I have one. Yay me!

Unlocking my car and taking a seat behind the wheel, I pause to text him back, "No thanks. What's up? Are you really down to your last string already? It's only 2am."

"Princess, you are first string... You just never say yes. The offer totally still stands, but actually I was wondering what you're doing tomorrow. Wanna go for a hike?"

"Normal people make these plans during daylight hours, you know... I'm not getting up before 10, not even if you promise to make me breakfast."

"Fine, no breakfast and we'll hike at 11. Your ass is getting to big to feed anyway."

"Fuck you. I love you. Good night."

"Love you too, Princess."

No sooner do I finish the text exchange than I hear a tap on my car window. I'm startled and jump a little and look up to find guyliner himself, smiling cheekily at me.

"Hey, I got a little caught up back there, didn't get your number," he says when I roll down the window. It takes a moment, but I notice that he's holding a shoe in his hands. I raise one eyebrow at him and look at the shoe pointedly.

"Oh... one of the, um, fans... well, she was obsessed with the size of my feet. Wouldn't leave me alone unless I showed her the size of my shoe. I let her see and then came running across the parking lot to you. The things you do to get the hot chick's number, man." He trailed off and I had to admit I thought the whole scenario was a little charming. Weird, definitely weird, but charming. I gave him my number and then made my way home.

The next morning on our hike, Tyler was less than impressed with my story.

"Wait, so Manderella came running up to your car with a shoe in his hand and somehow this is endearing instead of a sign of total pathetic absence of game? No wonder you don't want me, Princess, I could never be that lame."

"Don't call him that," I snipped before I had the chance to think better of it. There was no surer way to ensure that Tyler called him nothing but Manderella than telling him not to.

"So you gave Manderella your number and then what?" he asked, completely ignoring my request.

I didn't mean to blush. It's just one of those things I have no control over. I'm not a prude, I'm actually pretty sexually adventurous but whenever I discuss sex, I blush. Most guys think it's cute, Tyler teases me mercilously about it.

"Oh my fucking god, the sex flush. Did you fuck Manderella last night? Is that why you have bags under your eyes and are looking less like my arm candy and more like yesterday's ass crack?"

"Fuck you." I say for the millionth time in our friendship.

"You did! You fucked the munchkin from under the rainbow. Did he have a pot of gold? Was he any good? Oh my Holy Christ, did you blow off my request to sit on my face only to turn around and give Cindy to a leprechaun?"

For some reason that I have never understood, Tyler has nicknamed my clit Cindy. It's totally weird and when I asked if he nicknames everyone, he just smiled and said no, without providing any further explanation. It's been years and I still have no clue what it's all about.

"He's not even Irish, you asshat. And no, I didn't sit on his face or his cock for that matter. We just... talked."

"Ohhhh, you gave him phone head. Lucky little bastard. I know how dirty you like to talk."

Sometimes, if I didn't know better, I would think that Tyler was actually serious about having some kind of thing for me. He knows what I like in bed, he can tell you my favorite flower/color/birthday/candy, and he routinely pretends to be jealous of other men in my life. However, just when I start to think that I might be seeing the man behind the curtain, he'll have an all weekend stand with some chick with a fireman fetish and I firmly place him back in the friend zone.

We bantered back and forth for the rest of the hike, but my mind was firmly on Seth. Tyler was half right about our phone conversation. It was dirty, sexy and resulted in orgasms on both sides but it was Seth who did all the talking. I just felt along and right about then, I was itching to call him up and play again.

That night, Seth invited me to his next show at another bar. He was in town for just a couple days on this leg of the tour and then would be off to St. Louis and then some long list of Midwest towns that I hadn't bothered to memorize. At first, I'd really thought that he would just be a fun little distraction but in addition to the Best. Phone. Sex. Ever. we also connected on politics, religion, sports (or the absence of an affinity for them). Our conversation during my free period was seriously epic and I found myself daydreaming about him in the middle of my classes as I watched to make sure that my students didn't burn anything during our introduction to Bunsen burners. I was a little reluctant to go to his show and feel like a groupie but on the other hand, what if this was my man? I couldn't let my pride get in the way of my future happiness.

At the show I felt awkward, hanging around in the shadows. I'd managed to see him before his set and we'd made out in the men's room, which only succeeded in getting me all hot and bothered before he "Really had to go" to do his sound check.

His show was great and this time I watched other people watch Seth. People really loved his songs and his voice was seriously amazing, at times breathy and broken, others loud and emphatic. He was truly a great performer and I watched several women in the audience clench their thighs together in response to his raspy lines about a bedroom antics with a former lover.

After the show, he was once again accosted by a gaggle of women. I blew off a few guys who tried to pick me up as I waited for him, feeling very self-conscious in the absence of my friends. I ignored a text from Tyler mocking me for being a fangirl and finally Seth came over and invited me back to his hotel. Since I had my car, we agreed that I would follow him there.

He piled into a Toyota Prius with his tour manager, a man lacking in hygiene and social skills named Mike. Ok, the hygiene was a definite. The absence of social skills might just have been his attitude towards yet another woman coming back to Seth's room. I don't actually know because I didn't really engage him in much conversation. He just gave off the I live in my mom's basement and watch porn 24/7 vibe. Not that there's anything wrong with porn, mind you, if you can get past the fact that it's totally guycentric and unrealistic and fake as hell. Ok, sorry. Rant off.

So there I was, following the goofy Prius (I drive a Charger... yeah, nothing but sexy muscle cars for me) towards the hotel when all of a sudden it sped off, changed lanes and generally went out of view. It seriously looked like a chase scene where the spy is trying to lose a tail, except that I knew that Mike was no spy.

Pulling into the parking lot of the hotel, which was just half a block up the road, I wondered if that was Seth's way of ditching me. Sure, he'd invited me back to his hotel, but maybe he'd thought better of it or had gotten a better offer. For all that he was short, he certainly didn't have a shortage of women begging him for his talent. I was just about to drive myself home when I got a text from him apologizing. Apparently Mike had gotten freaked out that someone was following him and sped off. Seth explained that Mike smoked a lot of weed and was often really paranoid. Even reminding him that yes, he was being followed, by me, didn't do much to take the edge off and they got lost trying to find their way back to the hotel.

It was beyond bizarre and I wondered if I shouldn't just go home, pour myself a glass of wine and call it a night but Seth begged me to stay and I caved.

Finally back in his room, we were back to our amazing conversation, with the occasional grope and makeout in between. I feel the need to clarify something here. I love sex. Give me a good hard cock to ride any day of the week. I don't really have much patience for foreplay though. My nipples are too sensitive to find men's obsession with tweaking them a turn on. Add to that the fact that most guys, or at least most guys I've been with, are shit at knowing their way around a vag and I'm really just a "let's get down to business" kind of girl.

Apparently Seth is exactly the opposite because he just kept caressing me, gingerly removing clothing, petting some more, sucking on my neck and bottom lip and playing with my breasts through my bra. It was actually borderline creepy because it felt a lot like making love when this was clearly a hook up. Had no one explained the late night booty call rules to him?

Unbidden a thought of a conversation I'd had with Tyler came to mind about soft, slow, lovemaking. Unsurprisingly, he and I agreed that it had no place in anything short of a love of your life scenario. If only Seth had gotten the memo.

Anyway, long story short, I finally tried to force Seth onto his back and sit on his cock when he explained that he didn't have a condom. I expected him to look forlorn, apologetic and perhaps even try to convince me that we didn't need one but instead he dropped this on me.

"Sarah, I just really want to take my time getting to know you. You're cool as hell and if we fuck tonight, I know it'll just be a standard one night stand. I want more from you than that. Let's not have sex and just see where this goes, ok?"

I seriously could not believe what I'd heard. A man had me in his bed, naked and beyond down to fuck and he wanted to get to know me? Was he insane or into boys or insanely into boys or what? My mind was blown. I hastily through my clothes back on and said that I appreciated his respect for me but really needed to get home.

I was ready to just lose his number but he called me on my drive home and we had another great conversation. When I asked him if he was sure he was into me, because seriously, I've never had a guy get me naked and not fuck me, he reminded me of how hard his cock had been.

"I totally wanted to fuck your brains out, babe. Totally. Definitely. Beyond a shadow of a doubt... I just don't want you to think I'm just in it for tonight and the best way I could think of to show you was to wait."

Actually, I thought the best way he could have shown me was fucking me and then still calling me tomorrow, but since he was being so sincere and sweet, I didn't bother to voice my retort.

I didn't bother to tell Tyler the story of my failed night with Seth. I was already unsettled enough about it without having his mockery turned on full force. Instead we had dinner at our favorite divey restaurant and talked about the gossip of the firehouse. This is just another reason that Tyler and I are buds... he is one gossipy little bitch and I love it.

"Yeah, so Mac was telling Danae about getting crabs from that chick and she no joke, picked up her glass of beer and tossed it in his face... With all of us there at the bar!"

"Why was Mac having such a private discussion with his girlfriend in the bar with all the guys?" I asked, thinking it was fairly obvious that doing such was a crap idea.

"Oh he was drunk off his ass, totally didn't occur to him that it was the worst idea ever. But that's not even the best part, Princess. Danae throws her beer in his face, gets up, storms out and that Casey girl you can't stand, comes over and starts mopping him up."

"Casey? Wait, crazy lit nerd Married Casey?"

"The one and only. I guess her man left her and she was out drowning her sorrows but she straight up unzipped Mac's pants and grabbed his cock... right there in the bar."

"Well, I guess that solves that mystery. She got married before me because she's a straight up whore," I laughed.

Tyler's face scrunched up for a minute and he looked at me, uncharacteristically serious for a moment, "You know, you're way too hung up on getting married. You talk about it all the time. Wouldn't you be happy just to be with someone who wanted to be with only you and let the whole marriage thing happen when it was supposed to?"

"Of course I would, but that doesn't mean that I don't still think about getting married. I really want to get married, and no, not just for the pretty princess wedding dress and opportunity to be bridezilla. I just want to be that in love."

"Oh, Princess, you already are that in love... with me," he laughed, tossing back the rest of his beer and getting up to go to the bathroom.

"Fuck you!" I yelled as he walked off.

The next few nights of talking to Seth after his shows were amazing. We had so much in common and it was definitely cool that instead of hooking up with someone after his shows, he was in his hotel room alone, talking to me. I was really starting to fall for him, even though it had only been like a week.

And then he missed a call. I figured he'd just gotten caught up after his show. He was really apologetic in the morning, saying he'd had the longest day and just come back to his room and crashed. He claimed that staying up all night talking to me multiple nights in a row had taken its toll. I could related since I was really struggling to keep it together at work. My students were even starting to notice.