Before writing this I tossed around the idea of toying with you all and leading you all to believe I fucked Digger but in reality, nothing sexual transpired. I know I know...disappointing for me as well. I had hoped I'd get a little action but in the end, I am not ready physically so I am positive I was putting out more of a "MOM" vibe. Ugh...GROSS...RIGHT?!?!?!?
The thing is, I've gotten to a point in my life where I no longer build up these high expectations of situations and so the let down is minimal. Maybe I am trying to see the silver lining?
Let me explain...As you know I had invited Digger over for dinner. I asked what he was craving. He made kind of a tall order. He requested chicken francaise, penne pasta and lemon meringue pie. Damn! That will teach me to ask that question. In the end he said he would have eaten whatever I put in front of him. But you know Kitty. I'm a people pleaser.
Thinking about pleasing him even now makes Kitty wet. I planned every detail of the evening out. It could not have been more perfect. I was fortunate enough to hear his voice a few times over the past few weeks and used that for masturbation purposes but I suppose was really not feeling it.
We had confirmed that he'd be at my house by 5:00. The meal was ready to go. The house was clean and the music was playing on the tube and the lights were low.
He called at 5:11 to let me know he was running late and stopping for beers and wine. I told him that it wasn't necessary but he insisted "I ain't coming empty handed". I kept reminding myself that this isn't a relationship. It's okay that he's late...at least he called.
When he arrived and I greeted him there was a brief moment. Do we hug? He was wet from sweating all day and from the rain storm he was caught in. No shower? This isn't a relationship. We both hesitated for a moment then he walked into the house both hands full, one with a sixpack of microbrew and the other with a bottle of white wine. I did get a whiff of stale cigarette smoke or at least I thought I did. This isn't a relationship. I don't care if he smokes.
He tossed his sweaty wet trucker hat on a chair then sat down. We chatted effortlessly as I put the final touches on dinner. I kept everything as casual as possible. As we ate and talked, I watched his hands. The fingers on his right hand were tattooed. How would it feel to have those tattooed fingers on my body?
How would we fit together? How would he fuck me? Would I sit on his lap so he could suck my nipples while I rode him? Would he fuck me from behind?
As dinner progressed he openly spoke about his last girlfriend who he said "did me dirty". While I was interested in hearing the story and while the entire conversation was interesting, the evening very clearly took on a mother/son vibe. My bad, I suppose but in the end it all worked out. As i was cleaning up after dinner he asked, "would you mind if I have a smoke?"
This is not a relationship. I don't care if he smokes.
When he left, I walked him out onto the porch. He hesitated a moment until I said, "I am just checking the lights out here to make sure they are working."
"Thank you for a nice evening," he said.
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