Italians.
Gotta love them. Gorgeous, dark, mysterious. Mmmmmm
This one. Well this one was from Italy. His accent was as beautiful as he was.
6'2, dark hair, green eyes, muscular build. *licks lips here*
A bit of a cradle robbing on my part. He was 25. Young, but he fell exactly within my 10 year rule.
(Don't date anyone that is more than 10 years younger or 10 years older.)
We chatted online and on the phone for about three weeks. Then, one night, no Zoe at home, I invited him over to watch a movie. Jerry Maguire for like the 200th time for me. About halfway through I find out he's an excellent kisser. Amazing.
He was all over me. (Guess he liked older, very sexual women... go figure) "You are verrry verrrry sexeeeeyyyyy" He tells me. Methinks it has more to do with the fact that I very much resemble Monica Lewinsky. Lewinsky, my full lips... they all think it. You're thinkin' it.
Anyway, by this time I'm near dying because, after all, it had been three years since I had sex. Seriously. Three years. I was pregnant the last time my ex-husband and I had sex. [a whole other journal entry unto itself]
Well, one thing led to another with this beautiful Italian....
But then *gasp* here came a major dealbreaker. He couldn't keep Mr. Wiggly up with the condom on *big time bells going off in my head*
I don't trust anyone that can't have sex with a condom on. I know it's not nearly as fun, but to me it means they don't ALWAYS use one. Where there's a will, there's a way. Always use one. I am, after all, a safety girl. I guess I should have gotten a clue when he looked bewildered that I wasn't on the pill. Duh, when you never have sex, there's no need to pump yourself full of extra hormones.
Well, I decided, to try to be a little more helpful. Experience kicks in. Work it, work it, work it. We were still working at it a bit, but then... he kept having to go to the restroom. I didn't notice his tiny bladder before, but when you are trying to have sex, and the guy gets up like two or three and now four times to pee you start to wonder.
How do you say in Italian??
"Honey, I think you need to have a prostate exam."
(an aside, in case you all should ever need it)
according to my translation website:
Miele, li penso necessiti avere un exam della prostata
His English left something to be desired, and I'm sure I've been in more awkward situations in my lifetime, but at this point I couldn't think of any of them. This was dreadful.
So he turns to me with the most serious look on his face, "How do you say it????" he struggled for the words, "Um, blow job??"
Now, I'm hardly the kind of girl that ever shudders at that request, but tonight, well tonight wasn't going to be his lucky night. I had worked it enough.
"Sorry sport. Maybe some other time. It's late."
I watch from the doorway as he drives off in his brand new Lexus.
Italians. Millions of them and I get a limp Mr. Wiggly.
Yet another night. Flying solo.
*whistles*