Apparently, I like the song “Freedom” by George Michael a lot.
And by a lot I mean A LOT!
There I am, sipping my cocktail at Ali Bar Bar on Friday night when the song “Freedom” starts to play over the speakers.
Instantly, I am transformed into STRIPPER MODE.
I start grinding my hips, lifting up my shirt, and lip synching the words:
“Well it looks like the road to heaven
But it feels like the road to hell
When I knew which side my bread was buttered
I took the knife as well
Posing for another picture
Everybody’s got to sell
But when you shake your ass
They notice fast
And some mistakes were built to last”
All for the viewing pleasure of The Swede.
I even grabbed the Viking helmet off his head and wore it myself.
We might have made out a little too.
Okay, we might have made out A LOT!
I’m not sure what The Swede thought of my amateur performance, but I can tell you one thing:
I sure did get hella lucky that night!
The Israeli and I went out three times last week.
For our second date we went to The Blue Pheasant to dance but we barely danced. Instead we sat in a corner and made out.
Yes, we were THAT couple that makes out hard core in public.
He is a fantastic kisser.
His five o’clock shadow spent so much time against my face that my cheeks and chin turned red.
That’s how much we were kissing each other.
My only complaint is that sometimes he kisses me REALLY fast.
I am a little sheepish about that.
It’s not like I PLANNED to go out with him and make out the ENTIRE time.
It’s just that he was so EAGER.
So there we were in The Blue Pheasant, making out, when suddenly he starts kissing me slowly. Deliberately.
And I SWEAR MY OVARIES SHUDDERED A LITTLE BIT.
You can imagine the rest…
I have a nice rack. It’s simply a fact. I’ve been in possession of this nice rack from the tender age of 12. I haven’t always used my powers for good. Sometimes it can be a crutch used for the powers of evil! By evil, I mean getting things for free that other less fortunate women not in possession of a nice rack must pay for: Drinks, getting out of speeding tickets, backstage passes, free Starbucks… Oh the list goes on and on. Logic would dictate that if nothing else, my rack would allow me to excel in the dating world and in turn in the hot loving/make out world. It’s really a simple mathematical equation: Breasts B = C Copious Making Out.
Ask me the last time I had a real date and I will honestly tell you, “a few weeks ago.” I could go on about the awesome afternoon we had, how the conversation flowed, and how I got a little tipsy off too many Pacificos. I would probably smile as I recount the activities of the part of the night. Just don’t ask me about the last part because you will be greeted with a frown and silence. Why silence you wonder? Well ask me when was the last time I got hot and heavy and got past first base and I will honestly tell you, “Ummm..” “Ummm” meaning I have no idea. Meaning it has been a while.
Somewhere I went wrong. For the past six months, except for one delightful evening of sexual activity I have gotten no play. Wait let me re-phrase that: I get polite play. I get G-rated play Disney play. In the back of my mind I hear the classic 80′s lyrics of Jermaine Stewart, “Come on baby, won’t you show some class, why you want to move so fast? We don’t have to take our clothes off, to have a good time…” Really is this even politically correct to blog about? Well if it isn’t I don’t even care. Hoping for a hot and heavy make-out session is par for the course of dating.
Don’t get me wrong. I would love to find “The One”, to be in love, to have a steady Saturday night date partner. But even more importantly I’d love to have someone who was obligated to make out with me on a regular basis, who would maybe even…GASP… “Do It” with me from time to time! Until then me and my nice rack will continue to drive home frustrated and alone from all these G-rated dates.
Last night’s date was… in a word, SPECTACULAR!
Wine Man was everything I expected… and more. He was smart, thoughtful, handsome, slightly wicked and VERY FUNNY. I laughed all night long.
We met at The Cask in San Carlos and shared a few glasses of wine and cheese. My favorite moments of the whole evening was when he hopped his chair around our table to sit next to me so he could give me a kiss. Or maybe it was when he stood up in the middle of our date and came around the table to kiss me. Or when he sat next to me at dinner and kept touching my legs, my back, my arm…. Oh, romance!
It felt like I was getting kissed every minute with Wine Man. He held my hand as we walked down the sidewalk, stopping to kiss every few feet.
Apparently, I have VERY SOFT LIPS and I am a GREAT KISSER.
I kept wanting more kisses from him and when we got to my truck we indulged in a heavy makeout session. Then we got in my truck and proceeded to kiss even more.
His hands wandered (have I mentioned how much I LOVE a man with wandering hands). He squeezed my @ss. He got to second base. (I could be lying about one of those, but it could be the truth).
In the end, it was hard to separate. He was reluctant to get out of my truck. I was reluctant to leave.
I’m as optimistic as a woman can be about there being a second date. I look forward to more make out sessions with Wine Man and more.
We are ultimately 2 Scorpios so this could be one helluva ride with lots of passion, excitement, sensuality.
I am SO LOOKING FORWARD TO IT!