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ambergbay
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total posts: 42
Posted on Mon, Nov 19, 2012 08:32

“The pasta at Basilico Italiano Ristorante is like a soft moan escaping from slightly parted lips as hips thrust up in hungered frenzy…..”

 

video sountrack Martin Freeman, Lena Headey and Jodhi May/llya's Bellissimo

 

“Maybe I like to be on top…” I said with a playful grin as I stood barefoot on the wet and frigid sidewalk. The heels had come off at his suggestion that we walk. "Maybe I have a closet full of leather, and cat o'nine tails. Maybe I would want to kick your ass in bed..."

 

His disagreement was pronounced, "No... I would not tolerate that. I would slam you on the ground and pummel you. Let's walk..."

 

“No, I am not walking with you,” my rejection was of him but I tried to play it off with the shoes, “I am wearing heels and it is cold.”

 

“Just around the block,” he was imploring which made my heart sick. The alleys near were dark and easy to get lost in. “Why does he want me to walk?” the question was an echo in my mind. There was no reason for a stroll because we were not getting along. The tension between us was electric and I felt like a rabbit in a snare while he lingered in his stew. I made him angry on our first date in a must unnerving way.

 

DINNER-

 

“I just feel like you are judging me,” his face was a contortion of the handsome I first knew just as he was now not himself. I could tell that he had lost his bearing in the conversation. I was mindful of his weakness as I built him up and tore him down.

 

“I was not judging you for your sexual preferences, but even if I was you asked for it. You are the one who started the conversation. I simple asked you what you are into. OPEN can mean a lot of things. I asked you spell it out, plain and simple. Tell me what you like and I will let you know whether or not I swing that way. You couldn’t spit it out, getting mad at me instead, calling me confrontational. I am going to tell you right now that all people judge. It is a necessary evil because judgments lead to choices and some mistakes are fatal. You are a man I do not know and yes, I am going to make a judgment about whether or not I think your sexual preferences are deviant. How kinky are you and would I be safe?” 

 

“I am pretty kinky,” his face was suddenly charming again and I imagined that he was probably quite fun in bed with someone less questioning. It was the nature of my questions that caught him off kilter because they were too obvious. He needed me to understand him to the depths.

 

“I just don’t think you understand what I was trying to say Amber. Are you a republican because that is a deal breaker. I will not date republicans they are way too conservative for me.”

 

I cut him off in agreement. “I am not a conservative. I flat out told you maybe I am not understanding you, please be clear. You told me that you couldn’t because of audience.” I nodded an acknowledgment to the two women at the table next to us as they were clearly listening. The more homely of the two gave a slight nod back.

 

“I agree with you that this is the not the proper venue for such conversation but you brought it up so clearly it is of the up most importance to you because you felt the need to address your open sexuality during our first dinner together, never mind the fact that I am a lady. So I will ask you again, what do you mean by open?”

 

“It’s not that Amber, I just mean that women change as soon as you put a ring on their finger or enter into commitment. They morph into completely different people.”

 

He reached for my hand affectionately but it lacked the warmth of the first connection since severed.

 

My palm was clammy on his, “Look, I am here having dinner and I don’t really care who you sleep with. You accused me of being a conservative republican but I think I am as open as it gets because I am single. Will the rules change when I am in a relationship, perhaps.  If you want to know how I will feel about the guy I am with screwing other people in the event I fall in love I couldn’t tell you. Love changes people.” I tried to lead the conversation back to the ease of newly introduced pleasantries. “The hostess is stunning. I wonder if she is the owner’s daughter, she looks Italian.”

 

He eyed her like a cat with a fish in its mouth, “MMMMmmm…. Yes, I bet she is and yes, she is hot. My ex girlfriend likes women..”

 

(Continued......) 

 

 

 


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