The artist.
I honestly don’t know where to start with this one. From start to finish, it was such an adventure. It was almost movie-like. It had all the makings of a funny rom-com that ends a bit like, “Something Borrowed”. If you’re not familiar with the movie, it’s a typical rom-com, but the ending is sorta bittersweet. At least in my opinion. Bittersweet sometimes isn’t a bad thing. I mean, dark chocolate is still great and loved by many. Fair warning tho, this may or may not be a multi-part series. But let me start with this, it was probably one of the best years of sex I’ve had thus far.
It was the day of Pride and another local summertime festival in the city. Before covid, that was my summer, I would go to so many fairs and festivals. Even multiple ones a day. They were fun, exciting, and they always had the best food. The weather on the other hand, had a mind of it’s own. I haven’t mentioned exactly where I’m at, but I’m in a mid-western state where it can get so cold it hurts your face, but also so hot your skin may melt off. Pride is usually held in June, duh, and for us, that’s one of the hottest months we get. And it’s early June too, so the sun is still super hot. Just keep this in mind for now.
I was going through something, like usual. Probably some sort of dry spell. Actually, I was coming off of a dry spell. A dry spell mostly by choice- it was my “omg, I’m too fat to have sex cause my last two sexual partners didn’t cum” phase. So the morning of, I was looking in the mirror and told myself, “I’m gonna get a man today”. Yes, I did 100% say that to myself. Which is a part of what makes this story seem like a rom-com. I had on a pair of black legging Capri’s and a blue-ish tank. Which thinking now, this story is probably the reason why it’s one of my favorites. One can say, I was feeling myself.
It’s such a hot day out. Pride wore me out, but I didn’t want to miss this festival as it was one of my favorites. By the time I got to the festival, I was tired af. A very hot and sweaty mess. It wasn’t pretty, to say the least. I was legit covered and dripping in sweat. And I’m sure I looked as tired as I felt. So picture me, fat, hot as fuck, tired as fuck, walking around aimless by myself when out of nowhere, this bro stops me.
He stops me and asks me if I’m such and such. I was like, what? And he was like, are you this person from this place? I told him no, I’m not. He was like, oh yeah, you’re not, but you’re prettier than she is. I was like, haha, ok sure, whatever. He said something else, this may have been the only time where I admitted that I was single when a guy asked me. So, one thing lead to another, and instead of giving me his number, he gave me his business card and told me to email him. Yes, that does sound weird. Years later, and it’s still very weird to me. I don’t know what sort of vibes was around that day, but his whole pick-up line worked on me. It was also the last time a pickup line from a cisguy has worked on me.
The Artist was this shorter, skinny white guy. By shorter I mean he was about an inch shorter than me, so about 5’8, 5’7. And by skinny, he wore a men’s small. Also by white, I mean the jet black hair and the usual all-black clothes he wore really brought out the pale in him. It may seem like I’m complaining about all of that, but I’m not, by any means. I love the contrast of my skin against pale skin, it’s just cool and pretty to look at. He also reminded me of my one of my favorite MCU characters, Loki. It was like I had my own personal Loki, and that in itself was a big turn-on. There was also the turn-on of him being older. For a very brief moment in time, I could brag that I was a 20something sleeping with a 40something. I’ve always been a fan of older men which I’m sure is some symptom of having daddy issues. Even now, I’m still into older men. Silver daddies?! Yes, please. I mean, just look at Daddy Steve, or Mark Ruffalo, Idris Elba, or maybe even Hugh Grant. Don’t fucking judge me lol, I have some eclectic tastes in men. Sidenote, I have a story about having sexy times with someone in their 60s when I was in my 20s. Now that was a fun night.
It’s now night, and we have started texting. Full disclose, I honestly don’t remember how soon we did a ‘hang out” after meeting that afternoon. It was either that night or only about a week after. I don’t remember when, but I remember texting my bestie about it and freaking out over going to his place. I was nervous as heck and of course had some anxiety, cause we’re all told to not go to a strangers house for the first time meeting, but, we had actually met in person, so, it was all good, or so that’s what I said to myself. I know how that sounds, but nothing bad ever happened, so don’t worry.
While I don’t remember how long we were texting before meeting, I do remember what I wore the first time. It was a maxi sundress from Target. I had on some sexy undies and no bra. I was looking all cute and sexy. I’m not big into dresses right now, but I always feel sexy AF when I’m wearing sundresses. I also had on flats, cause I remembered how he was shorter than me and I loathe being taller than men. Yes, its very gender-norm-ish, but, we all can’t be perfect.
Y’all are going to hate me for this, but I’m stopping here for now. I know, I didn’t even mention the sex part, and honestly, that may not even come in the next part of this mini-series. This situationship lasted about a year, so there’s plenty to say, and I wanna take my time with telling the story. The next part will probably be all about him, then after that, I’ll probably get to the sex part. Then there’s post-sex and of course, the ending. I promise you, everything will be worth the read and the wait. But I will leave y’all with this, he introduced me to something new. And by something new, I mean something that most people still aren’t doing enough of.
With that, stay tuned for the part 2!