E: Experimental Eli

It isn't my normal cup of tea...

The History

Everyone needs to have an experiment in their life.

Whether that’s kissing the opposite gender or dating the opposite of your ‘type,’ it’s important to have an experimental moment.

Mine was an experiment because he wasn’t in the theatre department in college.

The history with Eli is not too long but it’s probably the most important piece of this whole story (besides the sex, but that’s a given by this point).

Eli is my boss.

It’s not as weird (or exciting) as it sounds.

Well, kind of.

After I had decided to change my career path, I worked at a dog daycare facility to make some money and figure out what I really wanted to do. Everyone that worked there was a twenty something that was trying to figure out what they really wanted to do in life.

And then there was Eli. A twenty-year-old who ran the entire building.

From the moment I started working at the dog facility, I was intimidated by Eli. Clearly he had his shit together enough that he was trusted to run the building at the age of twenty.

I avoided him like the plague at all costs and can honestly say I was not attracted to him for a really long time.

Then there was the work holiday party.

Once a year, the owners of the facility would throw a party for their employees. The location was never the same but one thing always was: open bar.

I got to the party (which was being held at a bowling alley) at the same time as my friend Raven. Her dad drove her there and I had agreed to drive her home (because we all knew she was going to get plastered).

And, oh, did she ever.

Everyone began doing shots of Patron and bowling (a mix that shouldn’t have worked but somehow did). Raven was off running amuck, flirting with her latest interest, JB.

That left me bowling with a bunch of people who I knew but didn’t know well enough.

That’s when Eli stepped in.

The boss had decided to have a bowling competition. Boys competing against boys, girls against girls. My and Raven’s lane was next to Eli and his brother RJ’s.

Since Raven kept wandering off, I would often be stuck bowling for her.

And Eli thought that was pretty cool.

We struck up a conversation about I don’t even remember what. All I remember is that he was drinking a Not Your Father’s Root Beer, which I found weird since he was twenty.

“My brother got it for me. I don’t really drink a whole lot.”

Considering I don’t remember the conversation well and can only remember what he was drinking, I shouldn’t have had the butterflies that I left with.

But that conversation made a weird impression on me that always had me thinking about Eli.

At work. At home. With friends. Even with my significant other at the time. I was always thinking about my boss.

But for a really long time, nothing came out of it.

We’re talking ten months.

People tried to give him hints at work (because everyone knew except for him). Hell, people even flat out told him.

And nothing changed.

I chose to ignore and avoid the situation. It would be awkward at work.

That’s when Raven stepped in.

She said “just go for it. The worst thing he can say is no.”

But that would be a huge no. That would mean everything I had built him up to be would be shattered.

So I was attempting to continue my avoiding tactic.

Until I accidentally friended him on SnapChat.

You read that right. My stupid ass friended him on complete accident.

And he accepted it.

I told Raven of my stupidity and she said “well, ask him out then.”

So I did.

I texted him and asked if he wanted to watch the Blackhawks game at a local bar.

And he said yes.

We went to watch the Blackhawks game at the bar and had multiple awkward conversations over a Coors Lite and a Guinness (it should be pretty obvious which one I drank and if you guessed the Coors, you haven’t learned a thing from this novel).

And I still couldn’t tell you what we talked about. I know it was a lot of fact stuff (family, friends, injuries, hockey, the usual first date topics) but I don’t remember a lot of the conversation.

I just remember being smitten.

He walked me to my Subaru so I could drive him to his BMW.

He gave me a hug goodnight and left accordingly.

And I was a mess of fluttery emotions because I had actually gotten to go out on a date with someone I liked. I just couldn’t remember the conversations.

A few days later (because I hadn’t heard from him), I texted to ask if he wanted to watch the next Blackhawks game.

He replied with a sure and to come by his place before the game.

That escalated quickly.

I picked up a bottle of wine and headed over with full intent of kissing his face.

That’s not at all what happened.

I finished my bottle of wine (a normal feat) and part of another. I then was persuaded to have a shot of tequila with EJ, Eli, and Raven (who had come by after work).

That’s when things started to get iffy.

I remember curling up into Eli and falling asleep.

I remember dreaming that I was throwing up rainbows.

When in reality, I was throwing up all of the wine and tequila all over Eli, his Shaw Blackhawk’s jersey, and their couch.

He was trying to wake me up and was trying to get EJ’s attention. EJ went and got Raven who thought that they were kidding.

Raven quickly learned they weren’t kidding and stripped off my shirt and took me to the bathroom.

Where I promptly threw up into the toilet upon arrival.

That’s where I remember more information.

I asked why I didn’t have a shirt on and why I was puking into a toilet.

Raven was trying to console me by saying, “Well, you threw up all over the couch and yourself. You’re going to stay here in Sam’s bed...”

And before she could say anything else, I was freaking out.

“You don’t get it. I have to go home.”

Keep in mind that this is when I still live with my parents who had expected me home hours before that. I had every right to be as freaked out as I was.

This was also my first time being drunk so I had no idea what was really going on.

Eli came into the bathroom to give me one of his shirts.

“She’ll need a new shirt.”

I asked why it had taken him so long to get me one and Raven told me “He was probably cleaning up the couch.”

I threw up again and came to the conclusion that I needed to get home.

Raven went out to tell the boys that they needed to figure out how to get me home since I wouldn’t calm down.

Raven ended up driving my car and Eli drove behind her.

Raven doesn’t remember driving home because she was intoxicated.

I had to navigate her back to my house.

It really was the blind leading the blind.

I walked into my house and curled up in bed.

I woke up the next morning in his shirt, confused, and still puking.

I texted Raven to ask what the hell had happened the night before because I couldn’t remember almost anything.

After her, I texted Eli to say that I was alive and that I was sorry for what had happened.

He accepted the apology and was writing a reply as I had texted him.

I had to work later that day. The only way I could get through that work day was Gatorade and knowing that I would be able to play with dogs.

I texted him later asking for a do-over. And that no tequila or alcohol would be involved. He agreed to that too.

I went to his house the Friday after Thanksgiving and we watched Designated Survivor. I cuddled with him without puking and got another hug goodbye.

Every few days I found myself at his apartment, watching some form of TV show and getting to cuddle.

How refreshing it was to have someone who wasn’t trying to rush anything.

The first kiss was awkward. He walked me to my car and I went in for a hug while he went in for a kiss.

Eventually kissing became the norm. We never greeted each other with one or would kiss during the entire process of hanging out. It was only at the end.

That’s why when things progressed further, I didn’t see it coming at all.

The Sex

Raven had the brilliant idea of having the four of us hang out together (EJ and her, Eli and me) because she wanted to go on a double date. I agreed but knew that we would have to strategically plan how we would get together.

She suggested that we make dinner.

We had the boys pick a day and we picked up the food.

I agreed to cook the steaks, the potatoes, and the soup. She agreed to making the pie and the asparagus.

We were going to be like real 50’s housewives.

We got to their house after the boys had just gotten off of work. I began cooking and reheating things as Raven prepped her food.

EJ would occasionally grab Raven’s ass or give her a kiss. I was ignored the entire time that happened.

They also refused to eat until everything was done.

I kept cooking and got a “I need you to call me to get out of this” text from Brad. He had ended up on something that he thought was a date but turned out not to be. I gave the emergency call to him and went up the stairs.

When I came back down, the food was just about done and I expected to get something out of the entire situation.

I got a thank you from EJ.

I also got ignored for the football game that was on the TV. And for them playing a game of NHL ’15.

I started texting Raven that after the pie, we were just going to leave because this wasn’t fair. I had been ignored by too many guys to invest anything into this.

Their game ended (what I had told Raven was the final straw and if they started another game, I was going to leave since they wouldn’t notice anyway).

They switched to Netflix. We turned on Iliza Schlesinger (who is one of the best comedians out there, especially to watch with two guys who don’t understand any form of girl logic) and Raven started making a big deal that no one was sitting next to their date.

I promptly moved next to Eli and she begrudgingly moved next to EJ.

Raven kept texting me to just make out with Eli and go for it. It got to the point that her and EJ went upstairs and she whispered in my ear “get it.”

Eli switched to That’s 70’s Show and kept snuggling with me.

I sat up to drink my beer.

And he started rubbing my back.

A side note before this progresses exactly where you think it’s going: I have sweet spots all over my body. Think of them like a light switch; if they are caressed and touched, I automatically get turned on.

I thought I had them all figured out and knew where they were.

Until he started rubbing my back.

I apparently have one in the center of my back, right above my bra strap.

I turned with full intention of just making out with him. Moving this to the next level at the pace that he had set. He was a shy guy who had been slowly warming up to this idea of us. I thought he would appreciate the slow pace and wanted to keep that (because I know I would petrify this kid if I went full Riley).

That changed quickly.

We’re making out and he asks one of the most respectful (yet awkwardly timed) questions I have ever been asked.

“What are my limits?”

I had to think for a second. Did I want to keep going at a slow pace or go from 0-60mph?

You bet your butts I went from 0-60mph.

“You don’t have any.”

He attempted to slip off my shirt (which, admittedly, was tight and difficult to get off) and I slapped him in the face on accident.

He then asked if he should go get something.

How far was he planning to go? This shy boy who I knew virtually nothing about was becoming more and more like me.

I told him sure and he bounded up the stairs to his room. He came downstairs with a condom and a huge grin on his face.

He stripped off my bra and started undoing my pants.

That’s when I realized I had not told him about my clit piercing.

Because you know, that just hadn’t come up yet...

I said, “Eli, I need to tell you something.”

He popped his head up from kissing down from my sternum. “What’s that?”

“I have my clit pierced.”

He got even more excited and took off my underwear.

“That will make this easier for me.”

And that’s what most guys say.

He started to eat me out and it was a surge of pleasure. I enjoy that part of foreplay (most women do, just sayin’) but there was something uniquely awesome about whatever the hell he was doing.

He kissed his way back up, stopping at both my nipples, before finally being back up looking at me.

“Your turn.”

Ick. Blow jobs.

I have never been a fan of giving blow jobs. There are two main reasons. 1) Penises look weird and 2) they taste funky.

But, why would I tell him no?

I had him lay on his back I sat on top. If I was going to do this, he was at least going to kiss my face some.

That’s when he asked the most awkward question I have ever been posed during sex.

“Do you like fingers in your ass?”

Some girls really enjoy anything involving their ass. Some prefer anal over vaginal sex.

The closest anyone ever gets to my ass is if they are grabbing it during foreplay or spanking it during sex.

So when posed if I want fingers in my ass, my answer to that will always be no.

So that’s what I told him and he respected that.

I had him get naked (because that’s what you logically do after someone asks if you want fingers in your ass) and started giving him a blow job.

It happened. Nothing sexy about it.

I kissed my way up to his neck and he said “the condom’s on the table.”

And all I could think of was that line from The Birdcage: “You’re money’s on the table, Chocolate.” And started laughing.

Hey, if he was going to be having sex with me, he had to put up with my weird idiosyncrasies. Like thinking of random movies during sex.

I unwrapped the condom and handed it to him (I have never been good at sliding those on). He started guiding me on top.

And even though I normally hate being on top, I was somehow okay with it this time around.

We started having sex and it felt really good.

Which is not something I can normally say.

He flipped me around every which way (doggie style, missionary, cowgirl, and some weird thing where I was on my side but also not) until he came.

He started pulling the condom off when we heard his brother’s door open from upstairs.

I panicked and threw a blanket over me. He threw on his pants and shirt and ran upstairs to buy me more time.

By the time he came back, I had the majority of my clothes on and was back at my spot on the couch.

“Well, that was unexpected,” he said as he came back to his spot next to me.

Moments later, Raven and EJ came downstairs and I asked Raven if she was ready to go.

We grabbed our coats and she kissed EJ goodbye.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do with Eli.

He came up and kissed me before I had the chance to second guess myself.

Raven and I headed out to the car.

Raven asked me if I had gone through with the plan of making out with him.

When I told her what had actually happened, she just about died of happiness.

Her excitement was exactly what I was feeling.

I didn’t text Eli the next day because I was still processing all of the information. We had had sex. On the couch in the living room. And it was good. Great, even.

Raven told me the next day that the third roommate in the apartment, who doesn’t deserve a name, was pissed that Sam and I had sex on the couch.

He’s just butt-hurt that he didn’t get laid.

I had every intent of texting Eli two days after we had sex. I just couldn’t think of what to text him.

He beat me to the punch this time and asked if I wanted to watch the winter finale of Designated Survivor.

Who was I to say no to the possibility of getting laid again?

We agreed that I would come over around 7:30 that night even though the finale wasn’t until 9:00. We watched Big Bang Theory and a few random hockey games. All the while, we were curled up and in our own little world. A world of warmth, security, and occasional butt touches.

Raven came to the apartment after work and hung out on the couch. EJ went upstairs to take a shower (which he often did whenever she came over). That left the three of us to watch Designated Survivor through the end.

I sat up when Eli had to go to the bathroom and Raven and I talked about how everything seemed to be going well.

And then Raven said something that made me laugh way harder than it should have.

I’m self-conscious about my laugh because of its progression. I go from a single ha to a really loud guffaw to a snort to a mouse’s squeak pretty rapidly. Sometimes I skip over certain sections or get right to the squeak if it’s super funny.

I skipped to the guffaw this time around which he caught the tail end of.

“What’s so funny?”

Raven started laughing again because the conversation had clearly been about him. I tried to cover up whatever she said and let him sit back in his spot.

And he started rubbing my back again.

He didn’t go right for the same spot, which allowed me to watch Conan which he had put on the TV, but rubbed all over my back.

Then he found the spot again.

I looked at Raven and grabbed my phone. I tried to play coy with what I was about to text.

“Upstairs?”

His phone buzzed, making it clear that I had been the one who had texted him.

“Yea.”

I got up and went up the spiral staircase to his room. I stayed sitting on his bed scrolling through Facebook.

He came and put on That 70’s Show. He started rubbing my back again.

And then crashed into a kiss.

Before I could even savor the moment, I was shirtless and having my pants taken off.

And then my socks.

A side note: I don’t like being completely naked. My way around that is to wear socks.

Yes, I can show my feet to people. I actually prefer being barefoot.

And yes, all of my clothes come off during sex.

Except for my socks.

There’s something about true nudity that bothers me.

Therefore, I keep my socks on so I don’t feel entirely naked.

I squirmed and just looked at him.

He came up to kiss me, almost reassuring.

And kissed his way down until he slid my underwear off.

He kissed his way back up and asked me, “Have you ever 69ed before?”

Well, that’s a stupid question. Valid but stupid.

“I have.”

“Do you want to?”

I should have said no. Because I don’t like it.

Getting into the position of 69ing is the worst. There’s nothing smooth or easy about it.

But I’m one for adventure and trying anything twice.

“Sure. You on top or bottom?”

“Bottom.”

After awkwardly shimmying into the necessary position, I started sucking his dick.

And just about threw up because I was over-eager.

What felt like an eternity passed until he slapped my ass and said “alright.”

I attempted to be graceful in sliding off but half fell off the bed.

Which made him laugh.

I smiled and got solidified on the bed.

He grabbed a condom from his closet and looked at me.

“Have you ever ridden in reverse cowgirl before?”

“I have.” And hated it.

“You want to?”

“Sure.” Why would I say that?

I road in reverse cowgirl for 72 seconds (because I timed myself based on the episode of That 70’s Show).

“Well, someone’s wet.”

No shit, Sherlock. You just ate me out and I’m excited for sex.

“Turn around.”

Finally.

I got off, faced him, and slid back on his dick.

I tried to kiss his neck but I don’t have the coordination to do that and bounce up and down.

“Stop moving for a second,” which I complied with.

That’s when he started thrusting which made me forget what my goal was.

“What position makes you come?”

Remember those moments when stupid things come out of my mouth without thinking? Here’s another example.

“I can’t orgasm during sex.”

Everything stopped. He stopped moving and I swear That 70’s Show paused.

“Wait. What?”

This was not the way I had pictured having this conversation with him. With his dick inside me mid-thrust.

“There is no position that makes me orgasm during sex.”

“Well, do you have a favorite position or one that feels better than the others?”

“Not really.”

With a perplexed look, he continued doing what he was doing.

“What’s your favorite position?” I asked, realizing I had never asked him that.

“Doggie style.”

Of course it is.

As a sidebar, Doggie Style gets me close and feels the best if the person knows what they are doing.

He had me flip over and drilled my pussy until he came.

And it felt really, really good.

I rolled over to find him next to his nightstand with a roll of paper towels.

“Do you need any?”

While this is not the weirdest thing I’ve rolled over to see, I don’t really know what I was expected to do with a paper towel.

“No, I’m okay.”

I expected him to get dressed.

I expected him to go back downstairs.

I expected this to be the end of whatever the hell this ‘relationship’ was.

He curled up next to me and put his arm around me.

We laid in silence for a while, letting That 70’s Show roll in the background while I watched the ceiling.

That’s when I realized that I could ask him anything.

Literally anything.

I could ask about how much weed he smokes.

I could ask why he felt the need to do Molly (the drug) at music festivals.

I could ask about past girlfriends.

I could ask what he wanted to be when he grew up.

And most importantly:

I could ask where the hell he saw this going.

But what came out of my mouth?

“What’s something that no one else knows about you?”

He popped his head up some. He had been running his hand from the base of my neck down my sternum all the way down to in between my legs and back up.

“What do you mean?”

Did I stutter?

“What’s something that no one else knows about you?”

“I don’t know what you know about me. You go first.”

I can’t remember what I said but it started this endless cycle of conversation of surface factors.

Until there was silence.

“How many people have you been with?” I asked.

He held up one finger.

Shit. I had taken his virginity and didn’t even know it.

That would be something off my sexual bucket list but I wish I had known.

“Including you is two.”

Okay. That made me feel a little better.

“How about you?”

I held up five fingers.

“Five?” He said in an almost judgmental tone.

I nodded.

“Alright.”

While it was not the most welcoming statement, he was accepting of the fact that he wasn’t my first.

“Do you remember when you lost your virginity?” He asked as he continued to stroke up and down my body.

“I do.”

“Was it awkward?”

“Well, as awkward as can be expected. It wasn’t horrible, but it obviously wasn’t the greatest.”

I hesitated.

“Do you remember yours?”

“I don’t like to talk about that.”

I found out later that he lost his virginity at about 19. She made him do it up the butt. I think that’s a pretty good reason to not talk about it.

“Have you ever squirted before?”

“I have.” I was rather perplexed by his questions. “But it doesn’t happen often and it’s all an angles thing.”

“Yeah, Jaime would do that almost every time we had sex.”

Gross. I didn’t need to know that.

“So wait a minute. You can’t come during sex?”

“No, I can’t.” I told you that already but apparently we’re going to talk about it some more.

“Like at all?” Yes, I can half orgasm. What do you think?

“Nope, never have been able to.”

“Then how do you get off?” He asked, rather confused.

“Well, usually I just don’t. I haven’t been with guys that actually care if I get off so I just stay sexually frustrated.”

“That’s not really fair to you though.”

And he’s right. It’s really not.

We continued to talk about random parts of life. I learned way more about Jaime (his only girlfriend) than I ever cared to know.

And that’s when things took a really unexpected turn.

“So wait. You really can’t orgasm during sex?”

“Nope.”

“And you usually just stay sexually frustrated instead of masturbating or anything like that?”

“Usually, yeah.”

“Can I try?”

Some people would argue that the three best words to hear in the English language are I Love You. Some would argue it’s I Brought Tacos.

The three best words for me pertain to sex: can I try.

“Sure.”

He kissed me and kissed his way down. He put a few fingers inside me and slide in and out.

And it felt really good.

But for me, I need a lot more stimulation. I mean, I got my clit pierced for a reason.

“Can I help you?” I asked. His face contorted and he clearly did not know what I meant. “You just keep doing what your doing and I’m going to make this go a lot faster and it’ll be way more fun.”

He nodded.

I started to play with my clit.

Most girls will never admit that they help during foreplay. They assume that guys will just know what to do and how to do it and get really frustrated when they can’t do it ‘right.’

I have no shame, especially with someone who is not as experienced as others, helping out.

And that made him really excited.

All of a sudden, he was ramming me harder (which lead to a bone bruise) and enjoying the experience way more.

I finally came (which is a huge accomplishment) and rammed my head into the headboard.

A smirk came over his face. “I win.”

Yes. Yes, you did.

He rolled off the bed and started putting clothes on.

Party foul.

I pulled myself together enough to get dressed. He talked to me the entire time.

“That’s really a workout.”

“It can be, yeah.”

“I’ve never had to do that before. Jaime always came three or four times during sex.”

I didn’t have a remark to that.

We finally walked downstairs together and kissed goodnight.

I texted him when I finally got home letting him know that I had a really good time.

“Me too. Glad you got home safe. Night!”

I started to melt over this guy. The fact that he cared enough to text that he was glad I got home safe was enough to make me giggle.

So logically, I asked him if he wanted to go to a family friend’s Christmas party.

To which he responded he already had plans.

I asked if he wanted to watch the Blackhawks game.

To which he already had plans.

I started going a little crazy.

What if he didn’t like me? What if I had been putting too much weight on this entire situation?

I texted Raven almost every day regaling what had happened and wondering if I was delusional for thinking that this was something worth going for.

Every time, she just told me to calm down because people can have plans.

But I still felt like I was going crazy.

Which was so foreign to me.

I may be crazy in the bedroom in terms of what I like. I may seem like I like being a little bit adventurous and a little bit crazy.

But feeling things for people is not normal for me.

So the fact that I was going this crazy for someone had to mean something.

You should have seen my face when he said he could watch the Blackhawks game because his plans had changed.

I got so excited that I decided to go buy lingerie.

Which I had never done.

Yes, my lovely readers, by the age of 24, I had never gone shopping for lingerie.

I was going to go with Raven but she decided to take care of EJ (who was sick with food poisoning) instead.

So I took my theatre little, Heather.

She wanted to find some lingerie for her new boyfriend and wanted to be a part of that experience for me.

I told her the entire story and she helped find the perfect piece of lingerie.

Black lace on nude material on a balconette (which sometimes I call bassinet by mistake) bra.

Two cup sizes too small.

The day of the game finally arrived and I threw on a sweater over the lingerie.

It was a little obvious but I needed to be obvious with this kid.

I arrived at his house in a tizzy. He got me a beer and headed upstairs.

I don’t know what he did up there for about ten minutes but he was gone for a while.

When he came back down, he started eating pizza.

And then sidled up next to me.

We talked about everything that I wanted to talk about.

Because I had so many things that I wanted to know.

We started talking about music festivals (because that’s what he enjoys doing more than traveling) which lead to a conversation about drugs.

Question 1 that I asked: what drugs have you done and why do you do them?

“I’ve done mushrooms, you know I smoke weed...” and a pause. To gage how okay I was with this entire conversation. “And occasionally Molly.”

How was I still okay with this?

“I only do the ones that I can still control. I like being in control.”

Question 2 that I asked: what made you get into doing those things?

“I originally didn’t want to. I picked it up from my brother. He’d call me at midnight to come pick him up and I’d rather him be home safe. I saw him do so much. I also don’t really consider weed to be a drug.”

Question 3 that I asked: do both your brothers do drugs?

“They do. And Caleb comes in tomorrow. It’ll be great to see him. If he comes over tomorrow night, you can come over if you want.”

For some reason, those answers were all I needed.

Mostly because I forgot all of the other questions I had.

Because he had offered for me to meet a member of his family.

We finished the second period of the hockey game when my foot fell asleep and I couldn’t really move my legs.

It sounds way more serious than it is.

I had to explain that my hips joints are rotated in but my muscles weren’t. That means when it gets cold and I stay in the same position too long, I lose feeling in my feet or legs.

I started stretching my hips out on the couch.

Which served two purposes.

My hips started to warm up so I could gain feeling back in my foot.

It shows how insanely flexible I am.

After I stretched for a while, he asked the best question.

“Do we want to finish the game down here or go upstairs?”

“That’s really up to you.” What the hell does that mean? Of course I wanted to go upstairs and show off this new bra.

He paused to think for a minute. What was there to think about?

“Let’s go upstairs.”

Good answer.

He got up first and started to head upstairs. That’s when he realized the same thing I did.

“Are you going to be able to walk?”

“Well, I should be able to.”

I actually had no idea.

I got up and was able to walk. If walking like a drunken sailor counts as walking.

He stayed behind me on the stairs (which I almost fell up at one point) and we went into his room.

He put on the Hawks game as I sat on my ‘side’ of the bed.

He laid down and propped himself up on one arm.

We finished watching the Hawks game when he started rubbing my back.

“Is there any spot that’s particularly tense?”

“No, I just like having my back rubbed.”

Mostly because you always find the sweet spot on my back but that’s besides the point.

The game ended and he turned on Family Guy.

Family Guy is always a mood killer.

Always.

So when he started pulling me back to make out with him, I just couldn’t get into it for a while.

Then I remembered: the bra.

I ended up on top of him when he started to take my sweater off.

There was a lot of fumbling and a lot of kissing.

He slipped off my pants and his own shirt.

He flipped me on my back and kept kissing me.

He had me sit up so he could undo my lingerie.

Finally, a comment about how sexy I looked.

No.

“Four hooks. Really?”

That was the only comment I got on my bra.

I didn’t even get to mistakenly call it a bassinet.

He stripped off my underwear and ate me out.

And overwhelmed me with a lot of clitoral stimulation.

He kissed his way back up, stopping at each of my nipples as always.

I flipped him back over and started kissing him.

He spanked my ass.

Which had me let out a weird exasperation of air that probably sounded like a laugh.

We said the next two sentences at the exact same time

“Do you like that?” came out of his mouth.

“You know you can be really rough with me, right?” came out of mine.

We stared at each other.

“Is that what you like?”

I nodded.

“Like hair pulling?”

“Mhm, and biting, scratching, all that kind of stuff.”

“I can do that.”

We started kissing again before he stopped me.

“What about choking?”

“Not choking.”

“Got it.”

I went up into downward facing dog so that he could take his pants off.

I’m still not entirely sure how I can do that and not face plant.

I considered just having him slide inside me.

Then I remembered his control issue.

He must have been able to tell what I was thinking. He had me get off of him so he could grab a condom.

He rolled it on and had me slide down.

Familiar territory.

Well, until he asked me to flip over and I got really confused.

So he grabbed onto me and tried to have me end up on my back.

Instead, half of my body ended up off the bed.

He moved me again and started thrusting.

And it felt great.

Verging orgasm great.

Then he stopped.

He was done.

And I was only getting started.

He cleaned himself up (with the paper towel roll in his room) and laid down on the bed.

Family Guy was still blaring in the background.

The world hadn’t stopped this time.

I laid there motionless for a while, hoping he’d acknowledge that I hadn’t finished.

Nothing.

I started asking my random questions but got virtually no where.

I tried to get closer to him because there was a galaxy between us.

Nothing.

He then said he had to go to the bathroom.

He found all of his clothes on the floor and headed out.

I had two options.

I could lay naked on his bed and wait for him to come back.

Or.

I could get dressed.

I chose the latter.

When he came back, we continued to watch Family Guy with the void between us.

Which is when the most heartwarming question came out of his mouth.

“What’s your stance on kids?”

That escalated quickly.

To be very honest, I want kids. Someday. I want half of me running around in the world, causing as much havoc as I have.

And most guys don’t like to hear that answer because they think that it means that they want kids right now.

So I didn’t know how to respond to a 21 year old who was asking if I wanted to have kids.

He could sense my silence came with me thinking about how to word what I was going to say.

“Someday, you do?”

“Yeah.” That was a lot easier than I thought.

“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t know if I could handle all of the bullshit.”

“But the bullshit’s worth it.”

He agreed.

We looked at the clock to see it was 11. If I didn’t want to get my car towed, I would have to head to my car.

“I guess it’s time to head out into the cold.”

“Yeah...”

We walked downstairs for me to put my shoes on and head out.

He kissed me goodnight, asked that I let him know when I had gotten home, and closed the door behind me.

When I texted him that I had, indeed, arrived home safely, he replied with the most perfect word.

Good.

Because that’s what this was.

He could have chosen to respond with any other word. He could have chosen to not respond.

He could have said perfect or alright.

There was nothing perfect about it.

People respond with perfect all of the time.

And while perfect means the sense of a whole and everyone is perfect at every moment of their life since they are whole at every point no matter what happens, there’s nothing whole about being in a relationship.

And whatever this was, was better than alright.

Because alright is in the middle.

This was more than just in the middle.

This was good.

The problem with good is that good quickly becomes bad if not taken care of.

And that’s exactly what happened.

We had sex one other time aside from the ones I have told you about. It was similar to the other stories.

But then weird things kept getting in the way of us seeing each other.

He got sick for a week where he didn’t work.

So we didn’t see each other.

We really didn’t talk much either because he wasn’t near his phone.

So the good quickly became lackluster.

I finally asked if I could talk to him.

All I wanted was to know where we stood.

And Raven assured me that it was probably going to continue without a label. There was no way this was going to end.

Yeah. Okay.

We finally found time to get together and have this conversation.

It was after a shift at work and for once, he was back in my group with me and actually checking in that everything was good in my dog group.

That had to be a good sign, right?

When the shift finally ended, I waited out in my car and Eli casually strolled out.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Joy. No beating around the bush.

“I just want to know where we stand.”

Through the next sequence, I am unable to make eye contact with Eli.

“I was thinking about that too. And really thinking about it, I want a girl who wants to go to concerts with me and has the same interests.”

I can respect that.

“And Raven told me that you were looking for a relationship which I’m just not in the place to do right now.”

Well, crap.

I don’t remember a lot more of what he said. It was a lot of the usual lines: it’s not you, it’s me; we just don’t click; we are at different points in our lives.

I finally broke my silence.

“I’m just glad we are having this conversation before things progressed where one of us got hurt.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m glad we are having that conversation now. I just don’t want you to think that I just used you or that I’m a jerk or anything.” He shuffled his feet.

“I don’t think you’re a jerk. It’s very mature of you to have this conversation and it’s just helpful to know where we stand.”

“And we can still watch games and TV shows and stuff.”

That’s when the conversation veered in a different direction.

And I haven’t hung out with Eli since.

We still work together. We respect each other and help each other when we need to.

It is literally like nothing ever happened.

The Moral of the Story

I had someone completely change my mind about the idea of a soul mate. Not because he fit me perfectly and not because he tried to change me.

Because he cared, because he accepted my quirks, and because I could actually get off sexually while with him.

A Closing Note to Eli

I’m sorry that I don’t smoke weed or enjoy EDM.

And that things didn’t really work out between the two of us.

Even though I was hurt because I didn’t see this coming, I don’t think there’s really a way that I can thank you without it involving a blow job and some weed.

All joking aside, you showed me that there are kind, caring people out there who are worth taking a shot with.

But not tequila shots.

I genuinely hope you find someone who has the same interests as you (weed and concerts) and who makes you happy.