Friday, November 5, 2010

A Tale Of Two Men



Penis Pete

During the Tribeca Film Festival, I agreed to meet with a guy off Twitter (red flag #1) to watch a movie from the festival that was being shown on DirecTV. I went over to his apartment after having dinner and some wine with a guy friend. When I got to "Penis Pete's" apartment, all was "normal". I instantly knew I wasn't attracted to him and felt like good, this will be a chill, no-stress couple of hours. I got the tour, met his dog and he ran out to get some wine. When he got back, I parked myself on the edge of his couch and he ordered the movie -  a foreign comedy but it was in English.

Fast forward through two bottles of wine and noticing what appeared to be bouts of narcolepsy on his part, he took his penis out of his pants.




Red flag #2 was when he asked me if I thought he was some sort of creepy pervert picking up women on Twitter. People always tell you who they are  I told him no when he asked because I really hadn't gotten that vibe from him at the beginning of the evening but then his penis made a cameo appearance. All I remember is looking over at him and witnessing him stroking his penis.

"Did you just take your penis out your pants?" And then I laughed. One of the heartiest, deepest, belly laughs ever, like from way down in my gullet. I was doubled over.

"Why would you take your penis out?"

By this time he already put it away and stammered on about never doing anything like that before and feeling comfortable around me.

Comfortable enough to take your penis out and start stroking it even though I didn't flirt the entire night? Despite my wine-swollen belly I didn't flirt, didn't touch his thigh, put my hand on his shoulder; didn't enter his personal space at all, literally stayed on my EDGE of the couch the entire evening, so what made him think I was interested in him in that way? Just because I wanted to watch a movie?

"Why would you just whip your penis out your pants? Women don't just whip out their titties!" I was still trying to grasp this situation.

He was 36 (or 37) and single, with a lot of ex-girlfriends who he introduced me to via photo slideshow on his TV (yeah, red flag #3). If he wanted to have sex with me or some sort of sexual contact, why didn't he do it the "usual" way - flirt with me, put his hand on my thigh, put his arm around my shoulder, try to kiss me, say he wants to hook up? He completely skipped all those avenues and instead decided to pull his penis out of his pants. Unreal.

I never felt threatened by his overtly sexual act, it was more funny than anything else and I started to probe. Once I was done laughing, I started to ask him why he made such an ill-advised decision. He couldn't explain it. What's funny is I remember telling him while I was still laughing, "Don't worry, I won't write about this."





Kismet Kevin


Mid-June, I was having dinner and drinks with my Muchacha at my favorite restaurant downtown. I was strategically seated at the corner of the bar - I had a great view of the interior of the restaurant and of the street outside. My girlfriend and I were catching up on our lives and whatnot. I told her, that day, about another guy that I was attracted to on a very carnal level, who happened to be at the restaurant too. I wanted  a torrid affair for the summer. Just a wild, unabashed fling.

His eyes are what I saw first as he walked along Canal St. We kept staring at each other - he turned back when he got to the corner and I turned around on my bar stool as to not break the stare.

About 15 minutes later, the same guy came to the restaurant and took a seat on the opposite side of the bar, directly across from me. He played with his iPhone, ordered juice, some fries and we kept looking at each other.

"Can you read lips?" I asked Muchacha. She couldn't because she didn't have her glasses, so I had to talk in a whisper through clenched teeth.

"I think that guy across the bar came back here for me."

She took a peek at him and agreed he was very cute.

Now was the moment of truth. We were ready to close out and go. My friend went across the street to the ATM and "Kismet Kevin" went outside to speak with some friends who were walking by. As he made his way back into the restaurant, I called him over to me with a "come hither" of my pointer finger.

"Can you roll your tongue?" I asked.

"Whoa, you get right to the point," he smiled.

I smiled too. "No, I meant like this," I rolled my tongue and stuck it out at him. "It's a recessive gene and not everyone can do it. I saw you making faces with your friend's baby outside."

"Yeah, I can roll my tongue," and he stuck his rolled tongue out of his mouth too.

He had great eyes, great lips and was very personable. He stood there talking with Muchacha and I for over an hour. He did admit that he came back to the restaurant to see me, that we shared that "eye-lock" when he was walking by and he had to come back. He started to make himself cozy between my knees (yes, I turned to face him on my bar stool and opened by knees as an invitation).

"You gonna kiss him?" Muchacha asked.

"No!" I just don't do those things. He's very cute, but we just met. I could tell she didn't believe me. He walked us to the subway, taking us past his apartment building. The flirting continued. My friend went down into the subway to give us a moment to say our goodbyes. We hugged, one of those long hugs. My face was buried in his neck, his hands roamed up and down my back and butt and we continued to talk into each other's ear. We broke the embrace and stood like 2 feet apart, trying to figure out when we'd be able to see each other again. He had family obligations later that week and I already had events I was attending. The following night, late, a Tuesday, would be the only time, so we decided to play it by ear.

"Come here..." he grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and pulled me towards him. The. Best. Kiss. Ever.

I was glossy-eyed and giddy when I went down into the subway station to meet Muchacha. Owa Em Gee I started gushing to her about the kiss and how no guy was that confident around me, I couldn't remember the last time a man made the first move, I love confidence, how special it made me feel that he came back to the restaurant. I considered that a very bold move - all in that ultra-fast, high-pitched girl voice. I had to hush up real fast when I saw him coming through the turnstile. In the excitement of the evening, he forgot to save my number in his phone and said he had to come after me to make sure he had my number. He called me "dangerous" because of the kiss and entered me into his phone as "Luscious".

I text him to let him know I got home and we exchanged texts about how we couldn't explain it, but something, some force brought us together that night. Then he started talking about what my skin will feel like under his fingertips. We made plans to see each other the following night, after my event...


(I'll post Part 2 tomorrow... or next week, I'm not even gonna fool myself)

I DID post Part 2...

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