My GF; Fucking & How We Met Ch. 03

"That slutty chick? Are you afraid she gave you syphilis?" Nic looked up in surprise.

"No, not her.The blonde."

"Ah, the one that got away, huh?" Nic smirked.

"What's this? Don Juanita struck out?" Melody joined in on the mocking.

"Not exactly." I told the story as we dressed.

"So, you picked her up in a bar, ate dinner with her, went back to her place, and left her with a hug? You're a tease." Nic laughed.

"Hey, don't take away the only noble thing she's ever done. Even if it was absurd and dense." Melody defended me.

"I am not a tease! And what made it absurd and dense? I chose not to take advantage of a nice girl." I defended myself more accurately.

"Take advantage? Nice girls like sex too, and she wanted to have sex with you. So the poor thing probably masturbated about you, while you slept with Miss Syphilis, Seattle." Nic apparently did not feel a need to defend me.

"Better to sleep with her and leave her in the morning?" I went down swinging.

"No, you great idiot. Better to sleep with her, buy her flowers in the morning, and bring her here tonight." Nic retorted and hit me on the nose with a rolled up magazine like a misbehaving dog.

"Nic, she's never had a girlfriend, probably never been on a real date. Flowers might be a stretch." Melody's defenses were not making me feel better.

"How? She's 27. And a lesbian," Nic exclaimed, shocked, "How can you have never had a girlfriend?! You're 27! And gay!" Nic shouted my age and orientation at me, as if realizing would make me girlfriend material.

"Easy, Nic. She's like an emotionally retarded guy. Complete hound dog. I think it's the being abandoned as a baby thing. You have go slower." Melody asserted compassionately.

(I should explain. My baby police report reads, "Newborn Babygirl Doe. Abandoned at fire station.Red hair.Parents unknown." Melody assumes that I must hate the uncaring mother who abandoned me. Quite the contrary, I'm grateful to a woman who -- lacking the wherewithal to care for me herself -- placed me in the care of others instead of aborting me, tossing me in a dumpster, or raising me in privation. Explaining that gratitude to the child of a nuclear family like Melody has proven impossible, so she blames my mother whenever I act insensitively.)

"I am not emotionally retarded!" My friends' casual insults got to me.

"You slept with my mom. The day you met her. In my bed," Melody reminded me.

"I keep telling you, my sheets were used. I should have done your mom on dirty sheets?" I stayed very considerate with her aggressively sexual mom.

"You shouldn't have slept with your roommate's mom! You great idiot." Nic answered and hit me with the magazine again.

"Water under the bridge, Nic. What's your plan?" Melody's practicality again came to the fore.

"I've formed an infatuation for a nice girl, clearly. I intend to ignore it and be a friend to her," I answered.

Nic and Melody both laughed at that.

"You are constitutionally incapable of not having sex with an available girl that you find attractive. That's like a cobra befriending a mouse." Melody answered first, still half-laughing.

"I get the impression that she's been treated horribly, a lot. I don't want to be someone who hurts her even more." I answered sincerely.

My eyebrows knitted as I frowned over my dilemma. Both Melody and Nic paused for a moment quizzically and ceased laughing when they saw my honest internal struggle. Then each friend hugged me in turn.

"You are a great idiot." Melody sighed affectionately.

"You also might be right," Nic continued, getting more serious, "If you can't even commit to dating her, you should probably stay away. C'mon, we have to go make nice at the party. Let's figure out your issues with Adrianne later."

Issues? Despite Nic's disbelief, I had logical reasons for having never dated. They were selfish reasons, but not psychotherapy-worthy.

I spent junior high and high school at an all-girl boarding school - where I stole my first kiss from Angela Watson at twelve and lost my virginity to Victoria Kelving's strapon at fourteen - but certainly couldn't openly date. I enjoyed my freedom (with guys too, definitely not a gold star lesbian) too much to date as an undergrad and was too harried to date as a grad student.

I developed a habit of picking up different girls anonymously a few times a month while earning my JD and MBA. The habit continued for my first few hectic years as a full-fledged lawyer and I guess I never really adjusted my behavior.

Huh. Emotionally retarded after all? Damnit, my friends were right.

A series of forced pleasantries with strangers at Dr. Hartford's "Seattle Mental Health" charity event overlaid my depressing thoughts and heavy drinking. One of them was the slutty chick from the night before on the arm of a short, fat, bald something-ologist. Neither of us showed any sign of recognition during our introduction and afterward we each just moved to the next disinterested stranger to engage in more mendacious small talk.

Nevertheless, it drove home the point. I spent my entire romantic history siphoning easy sex and never gained any relationship skills. I had no idea how to be with a sweet, caring person.

I got pretty deep in my cups after that.

By 2am, all the guests had been shown out. Adrianne and Melody had left. I wasn't competent to stand, let alone drive. Nic found me half-asleep in an armchair.

"Alright, let's get you upstairs." Nic hauled me to a guest room and laid me in bed.

"I really like her, Nic, and I don't wanna be a great idiot anymore. Help me?" I spilled out, on the verge of crying.

"Honey, you are making this too hard. When she calls you, you invite her to dinner and a movie. Then go. Take care of her like a lover, but love her the way you love your friends. It's not that hard." Nic tucked me in and met her girlfriend in the hall.

"Is your lawyer friend okay, Darling?" Dr. Hartford seemed genuinely concerned, touching.

"She's just lovesick."

"I sympathize. Goodness knows where I'd be without you, Nicole."

I fell asleep wanting a relationship like that.

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My game was taking for-fraking-ever to update. No patience. I watch an episode of The Irresponsible Captain Tylor, and check again. The update timed out entirely.

I run downstairs to my girlfriend's office to cycle the router. Of course I knock it over behind the desk first and have to fish it out. I'm sort of naturally klutzy. But then I have it unplugged and cycling.

I glanced at her laptop during the thirty second wait. Not snooping, I swear. Just easily distracted.

There's an email from Teeg with an attachment. Teeg's wild! It's bound to be a video of her doing something crazy. My girlfriend showed me clips of her jumping off cliffs, hang-gliding, MMA fighting, and other adrenaline junkie stuff.

I give in to temptation and open the video. It's awful and it's freaking me out. That poor hurt woman. What's Teeg doing? And why?

Teeg says something to her. She looks so scared. Then Teeg closes the eye hole and starts pouring hot stuff on her while she tries to get away. And then it gets even worse...

I shut my girlfriend's laptop. Then panic.

What if my girlfriend wants...that? Is...that... what we're building to? Can I-?

*I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that-*

That never works in real life.

I should be willing to fulfill her fantasies. She does mine. (My girlfriend even roleplayed Alice from "Resident Evil." She totally made fun of me before and after, but she made it hott during.)

I'll tell you about our first real date to distract myself.

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For two days after she gave it to me, I fingered her card in my pocket like it was Isildur's Bane. I'd never wanted so bad to make a phone call. But she said to wait, and I had already seemed desperate.

Finally, a work day for an excuse. Yah! I called her.

"It's 5:58 on a Sunday morning. Someone had better be dead or you will be," she answered.

I didn't think about it being so early. Yeesh.

"Um, I'm sorry. No one's dead. It's me...the girl you met at-" Suddenly my tongue went leaden.

"I know who you are, Sweetheart. You've been all I can think of. I'm just all grumpy and hungover from drinking with the girls last night. Forgive me, Sexy?"

She'd been thinking of me! And she called me sexy! Woot!

"Pretty please forgive me?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, I forgive you." Have to remember to answer.

"Why thank you. So what's got your cute self out of bed so early?"

"You...um, told me to call someone, if...I mean when I went to work." Ack, nerves.

"I kinda meant family or friends. Someone you've known for more than 72 hours?"

"I don't have...Ah, I don't have-" I didn't have a non-sad way to finish that sentence.

"Hey, happy to be your safety person, Kitten. Don't worry. Just text me when you arrive. And then why don't I pick you up from work and take you to dinner and a movie?"

"You mean, like a date?" I'm not good at decoding what people mean. I didn't want to be wrong.

"Yes, Cutie.A date. I'd like to take you out on a date tonight, okay?"

"Okay!" I giggled and did my happy dance.

"I'll see you at 7, Pretty Girl."

She hung up. My happy dance continued until 6:05. Then I dashed off to catch the bus. There were still 7 rides left on my pass. Just enough to get me to payday.

My happiness lasted until I changed out of my fun Tigger tee shirt and matching tiger striped pants into my drab, gray, hospital-issue scrubs. (I'm a tech at Seattle Children's in-patient pharmacy.)

She was taking me out to dinner. All I had to wear looked like pajamas. I didn't have time to get home. All my coworkers are huge compared to me, so I couldn't borrow anything. I wouldn't have any money until that Thursday to buy clothes.

I had no money! What if she expected to go dutch? What could I do? I didn't have any way to sell anything. I'd already donated as much blood as I could that month.

The rest of the day dragged by miserably. 12 hours of me wishing I'd saved back more money and dressed sensibly. I thought I'd messed up everything. Why couldn't I think ahead?

When my shift ended, I put on my stupid Tigger clothes and sat in the waiting room. At 7 on the dot she walked in. My heart sank. Had I already screwed up my chance with the most attractive woman that had ever been interested in me?

She was wearing the same open leather jacket and heeled boots. I could see her yummy breasts in a green bra though her lacy white blouse. Her fitted khaki pants made her hips and long legs look so good. Her gorgeous red hair was loose and wild. It framed her face. It also made her bright green eyes even brighter.

I jumped up and exploded out an explanation.

"I didn't think about going out when I put this on and I have other clothes at home if you can drive me there then I'll put some on and I don't have any money right now but I can pay you back for dinner and the movie after Thursday I promise. I like your hands-" She tucked my hair behind my ears while I babbled. Then she brushed her thumbs across my cheek bones with her finger tips on the sides of my neck.

Then she kissed me. It was sweet and gentle, and soothed me. Just her soft lips on mine.

"You can wear anything you like and you look adorable tonight. I'm taking you out. Your lips are absolutely perfect." She kissed me a second time, then took my hand and led me to her car. She opened the door for me. Her right hand rested on my thigh while she drove.

"Where are we going?" Not that I cared really.

"Café Paloma. It's Greek food, tapas and such. Then the Seattle Science Center IMAX is showing Jack and the Giant Slayer, if you still feel like a movie after dinner."

"I heard Jack the Giant Slayer was lame, but I'd love to go with you."

"Excellent. A distracting movie ruins a night with a beautiful girl." She winked.

The food was great. She taught me how to pronounce all the Greek names and ask whereall I'd lived. (Just Seattle.) Hummus tastes wonderful. She spread some on my lip, then licked and kissed it off. She asked about my likes and dislikes. We had Turkish coffee (yum!) and biscuits for desert.

We left in her car for the IMAX. Her hand rested on my thigh again.

She bought the tickets, popcorn, candy, and soda. We sat in the back row with the armrest lifted between us. Her arm wrapped around my shoulder. She pulled me to her. Her fingers teased my hair.

About ten minutes into the movie, she leaned over and licked my ear.

"Do you have any interest in this movie?"

"Not really. But I like being here. With you."

I saw the light of screen gleam off her teeth as she smiled. Then she turned my chin with her knuckles. She brushed back and forth across my lower lip with her thumb. Then she kissed my bottom lip. Then my top lip. Then her tongue slid in my mouth, licked my teeth, and played with mine. She coaxed my tongue into her mouth and sucked lightly on it. Her tongue went back in my mouth and her finger tips grazed my throat. I sucked on her tongue. I felt her smile as I did.

"Would you like me to take you home now, Sweetness?" She whispered.

I nodded and she drove me home, again her hand on my thigh.

She walked me up to my apartment, but stopped me outside my door. I expected her to pin me to the wall, roughly. But she spoke softly to me instead.

"I respect that you're a nice girl, so we can wait to get more physical. TTFN won't upset me or change my feelings for you. Just let me know when you're ready, okay?"

"I'm ready," I said as I pulled her inside.

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I made it through traffic and to a storm of work on my desk at our corporate office. It was 3:30 before I had all the fires put out and stopped for lunch. By lunch, I mean a deli sandwich my IT gal/supply manager/gofer Sherry picked up on her daily run.

I'm entirely too much of a control freak to make good use of a secretary, so I hired Sherry instead. She's a cheerful, industrious, overweight, and unattractive woman in her early forties with a BS in IT who's amazingly reliable with everything from making the office coffee to upgrading our computer network.

After seven sexual harassment accusations, me being de facto head of HR, I replaced the remaining corporate office personnel with unappealing married older women. Mr. Henriksen calls them battleaxes, blimps, and bulldogs out of earshot, but between an unattractive staff and some discrete dispensing of call girl and gigolo business cards, we haven't had any more allegations. (I only very rarely hire call girls myself, but occasionally appreciate the professionalism.)

Sherry tosses me my pastrami on ciabatta and an energy drink, then leans in my door frame chortling until I make the phone call. My girlfriend works 7 days on/off at the hospital pharmacy, and I call her every day at lunch on her days off. Sherry says she thinks it's sweet, but in truth gets a kick out of her domineering bitch of a boss being so utterly pussy-whipped. I don't care, I love my girl.

I throw wrappers at Sherry until she ducks out the door.

"Hey, Playmate. Have you killed a hoard of goblins yet?"

"Hi Baby. No. I had trouble updating the game."

"Did you cycle the router?"

"I went to, but I read your email instead. I'm sorry, Baby." She won't lie, even when she's not sure if I'll be angry. I'm not.

"That's fine, Sweetheart. You can read my email if you like." Frankly, if I had any emails to hide, I certainly wouldn't let her have access.

"There's a video from Teeg." Oh, shit. I usually don't show Teeg's less savory deeds to my girlfriend for fear they could disturb her or make her uncomfortable around my bisexual and licentious friend. She sounds freaked.

"Are you okay, Kitten?"

"Yeah, I just...Is that...Do you want to do any of that?" Her voice is terror-laced. Poor baby thinks I'm going to want to use her like that.

"No, Cutie. I've no desire to hood, bind, and clamp some girl to fuck her with a caramel cock. Not my thing. I did watch it, but as a curiosity. Just like when we watched the video of her eating that live spider." My girlfriend's usually fairly calm once I comfort her, but can get a bit spun up and fixated now and then.

"The spider thing was gross too. Can you come home?" It must have really bothered her.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. I love you."

"Thank you, Baby. I love you too." She exhales, assuaged.

I hang up and drop by Mr. Dharmraj's office on my way out to let him know my girl needs me. There's only a couple hours until the end of the day anyway and I can stay a bit late tomorrow if needed. I turn on "The Distance" by Cake for the ride home.

Yeah, so I'm pussy-whipped. There are worse things to be.

I have been wrapped around her little finger since the first time we had sex. Apparently the oxytocin or vasopressin or whatever - produced and ignored with every other lover - bonded me to her.

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She nearly dragged me into her place, after I courteously offered to wait like a chump. I meant what I said. That girl had me completely twitterpated. I'd have spent weeks courting her without pushing her, but her ready acquiescence was much preferred.

If her landlord bothered with a sales pitch, I'm guessing the word "efficiency" figured in heavily. The whole place was maybe 8' by 10' of hardwood floor with just a half kitchen, a portable closet, and a single bed.

I'd time for a visual survey because she seemed unsure of what to do with me once I was inside, other than removing our shoes. I also turned off Britney Spears' "Criminal" from her laptop on a breakfast bar that folded in frontwhat I assumed was the bathroom door. Then I decisively retook the lead.

Pressing her to her front door, I kissed her. My tongue slipped effortlessly into her mouth while my hands moved down to massage the small of her back. Her hands crept up my back and found a home against my shoulder blades. Based on how quickly she picked up kissing techniques throughout the night, (she became exceptionally good at sucking my tongue, a personal turn-on) I guessed she was fairly inexperienced. She's only twenty though, and teachable is better long term than expertise.

Without releasing her yielding lips, I slid her tiger-striped pants off her hips and down her thighs until they dropped to the floor. I stopped kissing her long enough to get her Tigger shirt over her head.

Looking down, her sports bra and panties were Tigger-themed as well. The outfits are fine and even cute, but that needed to go. I felt enough like a cradlerobber without cartoon little girl underwear.

"Can we turn the lights off, please?" She asked uneasily.

Caring about the person you're about to have sex with, sucks. I should have agreed and kept rolling, but I wanted to be sure that she knew that she had no reason to be embarrassed about her body.

"Why, Pretty Girl? I've seen you naked and you're fucking awesome. " I suckled a bra-covered nipple to distract her while she framed an answer.

"It's not that. And thank you. I just need the lights off because, I just do. Um, is that okay?" She answered vaguely. I knelt and planted wet kisses on her sharp hip bones. I needed to feed her more too. My fingers glided under her waistband and removed her silly underwear.

"Sweetheart, we can kill the lights if you'd like, but I do wanna see your sexy face when you cum." I nosedived directly into her cute blonde curls. I'd get rid of them too. A shame since they're so soft, but it would make her more sensitive. Her smell intoxicated me. Stopping to talk --again -- was nigh on impossible.