Downin' Fragel Rocks
I had a party this weekend, and got laid. Neither event was particularly noteworthy.
People started showing up at my apartment around 11pm. There weren't tons of people there, but I'd go so far as to call it hoppin'.
I made drinks from the Nigella books: Watermelon daiquiris (personal fave) and Strawberry Fragonards, which no one liked or could pronounce, so we started calling them Strawberry Fragel Rocks. I started drinking early. I had sorrows to drown: the amazing outfit I'd been planning to wear all day was, in practice, far from amazing. The leather pants I've had since high school looked awful (the cut is all wrong) and the belt that I'd bought specifically to wear with them didn't fit.
So by 11:30 I was sloshed. Not falling on my face sloshed, but giggling too much and not knowing whats going on sloshed. Forgetting that I am the host sloshed. Which was lame because this is the first party I've ever thrown on my own. There was no roommate to be responsible, just me.
I have no idea how I spent most of the evening. I didn't black out. It's just that time totally got away from me and now I can think of 12 people I really wanted to spend quality time with and didn't. I do remember my friends Kevin and Stephen screaming at each other all night over whether or not it is ok to vote for a third party candidate this year. Had their fight gotten physical, which seemed very likely at the time, I would have had to scrape Stephen off the pavement, since Kevin outweighs him by like a million pounds. Instead, I just giggled and tried to explain to Catholic Boy why I agree with both of them.
And then this guy I know who sorta dated my boss and who knows a guy I sorta dated showed up and we spent a good 45 minutes talking shit about our ex's.
Then everyone was gone and Catholic Boy wanted to spend the night and I said "Sure!" So we got in bed and got naked and I ended up having the most unspectacular sex of my life. We just couldn't get the rhythm right and he's really not the best kisser. Then, when I was about to come, I said, "I'm going to come." And he said, "Me too." So I waited for him to come...and waited...and waited... Then I came and he still hadn't, so I kept fucking him (which, in hindsight, probably isn't so safe while still wearing a condom now filled with semen) and then I finger fucked him, two fingers, then three, rubbing his prostate...and still nothing. He finally made me stop and I was not happy. I'm blaming it on the booze.
In the end tt was "Why not?" sex. He's there, I'm there, so why not? I seem to be having a lot of this lately and have resolved to put an end to it. Only enthusiastic love-making in the future!
People started showing up at my apartment around 11pm. There weren't tons of people there, but I'd go so far as to call it hoppin'.
I made drinks from the Nigella books: Watermelon daiquiris (personal fave) and Strawberry Fragonards, which no one liked or could pronounce, so we started calling them Strawberry Fragel Rocks. I started drinking early. I had sorrows to drown: the amazing outfit I'd been planning to wear all day was, in practice, far from amazing. The leather pants I've had since high school looked awful (the cut is all wrong) and the belt that I'd bought specifically to wear with them didn't fit.
So by 11:30 I was sloshed. Not falling on my face sloshed, but giggling too much and not knowing whats going on sloshed. Forgetting that I am the host sloshed. Which was lame because this is the first party I've ever thrown on my own. There was no roommate to be responsible, just me.
I have no idea how I spent most of the evening. I didn't black out. It's just that time totally got away from me and now I can think of 12 people I really wanted to spend quality time with and didn't. I do remember my friends Kevin and Stephen screaming at each other all night over whether or not it is ok to vote for a third party candidate this year. Had their fight gotten physical, which seemed very likely at the time, I would have had to scrape Stephen off the pavement, since Kevin outweighs him by like a million pounds. Instead, I just giggled and tried to explain to Catholic Boy why I agree with both of them.
And then this guy I know who sorta dated my boss and who knows a guy I sorta dated showed up and we spent a good 45 minutes talking shit about our ex's.
Then everyone was gone and Catholic Boy wanted to spend the night and I said "Sure!" So we got in bed and got naked and I ended up having the most unspectacular sex of my life. We just couldn't get the rhythm right and he's really not the best kisser. Then, when I was about to come, I said, "I'm going to come." And he said, "Me too." So I waited for him to come...and waited...and waited... Then I came and he still hadn't, so I kept fucking him (which, in hindsight, probably isn't so safe while still wearing a condom now filled with semen) and then I finger fucked him, two fingers, then three, rubbing his prostate...and still nothing. He finally made me stop and I was not happy. I'm blaming it on the booze.
In the end tt was "Why not?" sex. He's there, I'm there, so why not? I seem to be having a lot of this lately and have resolved to put an end to it. Only enthusiastic love-making in the future!