For a man with so much sexual experience, you’d think Nick would use other means to get me to the Promised Land. He doesn’t and instead rolls over, away from me. He starts snoring a minute later.
What the hell, man? I lie there for a long time going over the evening events. There’s nothing worse than being in a state of arousal and some guy, having had his fill, is snoring away beside you. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow morning. He can redeem himself with morning glory.
I go to the bathroom and wash off the urine from my skin. He didn’t drink any water before he fell asleep, so I may skip this humiliating step in the morning. We shall see. I burst into a fit of giggles as I try and imagine what it must be like for him when he wakes up in the middle of the night in need of taking a leak. Does he bother going to the bathroom or does he just unleash it on whoever is lying beside him?
I crawl back into bed and eventually, I fall asleep. Dawn breaks and the sound of the door unbolting wakes me. It’s Nick trying to hightail out of here. “Why are you leaving so early?” I ask, still drowsy and pulling the warm duvet over my naked body.
“I have to get to work,” he says, not meeting my eyes.
Hang on there, fella! You have to try and make good on last night.
“You owe me an orgasm, remember?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond and instead opens the door. “I’ll call you,” he says. And he’s gone. What the hell? I go back under the covers and try to unsuccessfully fall asleep. I give up and reach for my phone. This is a Richard type of problem.
“He’ll never call you,” Richard says without mincing his words. “And he will definitely never sleep with you again.”
Richard is a good friend of mine whom I sometimes bounce things off with when it comes to my many shenanigans with men. Sometimes you need a male perspective. He gives it to me straight, with no BS, and I never have to worry about him coming on me because he’s gay. Every girl’s best friend.
“Why?” I ask. “I allowed him to pee on me!” I say with just the right amount of indignant haughtiness.
He laughs. “Because my darling… You told him he didn’t satisfy you. Why didn’t you fake it? Have I taught you nothing?”
I just blurted it out. It’s not like he’s not capable of getting me off, he has before, in my office, the night of the Christmas party. And last night, he may have gotten me there as well if I hadn’t blown his trumpet first. What can I say? I’m good at it, no red-blooded male can hold off for too long when I’m on my knees. I say all this to Richard and he can relate.
“That’s me on a bad day, honey!” he says. “On a good day, they want to marry me!”
So if Nick was very aroused and couldn’t hold it anymore, what’s the big deal with what I said? Surely he could tell I didn’t climax?
“Guys still take the stuff to heart?” I ask.
“A man is nothing if not his ego,” Nick replies. “But wait! Rewind to the peeing business. What the hell is that about?” he asks.
I recount the night’s events to him and by the time I’m done, Richard must have tears rolling down his cheeks. He’s laughing so hard!
“Honey, I would never let anyone do that to me,” he says. “You were really invested in getting off.”
