Taking Chances, Ann Omasta [cool books to read txt] 📗
- Author: Ann Omasta
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“From the way he licks our jars clean when we are done with them, I know he’s a fan of peanut butter.”
Seth leaned down to give the dogs their bone-shaped cookies, and I took a deep breath to calm myself. Then I shifted the conversation and started asking him some questions. I learned that he was a boat builder, that he loved nature and that he wasn’t just handsome. He was also funny, smart, and sweet.
Mr. Finley, the grandfatherly bakery owner, stopped by our table to see if we needed anything. When he leaned over Seth’s shoulder to refill the hot water in our tea mugs, he caught my eye and waggled his bushy eyebrows, making me smile.
I kept looking for the fatal flaw that must be present in Seth, but I sure didn’t see one. With this level of perfection, women must be throwing themselves at him all the time. It didn’t make sense for him to be spending time with me, while seeming to enjoy himself. I almost had myself convinced that he was gay when he asked if he could see me again.
I made a valiant attempt to control the excitement in my voice as I responded that I could probably work him into my busy schedule, texted him my cell phone number and told him goodbye. Then I proceeded to float on cloud nine all the way home, thinking about what a fantastic day this had turned out to be.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said, grabbing Courtney and hugging her as soon as she walked downstairs.
“Umm, you’re welcome,” she said, hugging me back. “What’d I do that was so great?”
“You suggested that I say hi to him, and he is so handsome, but I didn’t know how handsome until he turned around. He’s so dreamy that it nearly took my breath away, but it’s not just his looks. He’s also kind and funny and down-to-earth, and he has a golden retriever,” I gushed, breathless.
I knew the golden retriever part would win her over. “Well, any guy who has a great dog like that has to be somewhat okay, but slow down. Who is this guy, and what do you know about him?”
I took a moment to enjoy how protective she was of me, and then I started about telling her all about Sumptuous Seth. Courtney liked my nickname for him, but decided that SS was much easier to say.
“SS does sound great,” Courtney admitted. “Just be safe and only meet him in public places at first. You never know. He could be an ax murderer or some other kind of freak.”
“We’re coming to Joe’s on Friday night, so you can check him out for yourself. Let me know if you think he has dead bodies buried in his basement.”
We both snickered, but then Court turned serious. “I mean it. You haven’t been out in the dating world for a while, and it’s a jungle out there.”
“Technically, I’ve never been in the dating world, other than that fiasco of a blind date that Annie sent me on.” I had been so awkward with my pimples and braces in high school that boys had barely glanced at me. Larry and I had met during my first week of college. I remembered the thrilling feeling of realizing that he was actually flirting with me.
Larry wasn’t Sumptuous Seth handsome, but he certainly wasn’t unattractive. In the initial stages of our relationship he had been attentive and sweet. He had completely swept me off my feet. We dated the entire time I was in college. During that time, we had some serious make-out sessions. I regularly gave him hand-jobs and had even sucked him off a few times, but I was determined to remain a virgin until marriage, even if I was only a technical-virgin.
The summer after I graduated from the University of Michigan, we got married. That was when I learned about my inability to orgasm. I loved that Courtney was so willing to blame it all on Larry, but deep down, I knew the truth was that in those initial months of our marriage, Larry had truly tried to pleasure me. When he had his fingers or dick inside me, it felt good (sometimes really good), but it never quite sent me over the edge.
We had experimented with different positions, lubricants, nipple stimulation, watching porn and watching ourselves, but nothing worked. We decided to try different locations to spice things up. We fucked in the car, on the floor, on the counter, outside, on his office desk, in the shower, in a restaurant men’s room, at a good friend’s party. Whatever we could think of, we tried.
The final straw came when we rented a sleazy motel room and agreed to meet there. Feeling naughty, I had greeted him wearing a trench coat with nothing underneath. He had ripped it off me and we spent the entire night going at it hard. Our sweat-slicked bodies made smacking sounds as he pounded into me from behind. Suddenly, he surprised me by slowing, then stopping. “You could at least fake it, you know,” he growled in my ear before shoving out of me and slamming the bathroom door.
I felt like I’d been slapped. I couldn’t believe that he would even suggest that I fake it. How would that make anyone feel better? From that night on, our sex life consisted of a weekly missionary-style session of him grunting and ramming into me, while I counted the ceiling tiles and waited for it to be over.
“You still in there?” Courtney was waving her hand in front of my face.
“Sorry, I guess I got caught up thinking about the past for a minute. I do have a question for you.”
“Shoot,” Courtney encouraged me when I didn’t immediately continue.
“Well, as you mentioned, I haven’t dated in a while. So, I wasn’t sure what the current protocol is. I mean, I was wondering, um.”
When I paused again, Courtney gave me a curious look. “Spit it out.”
“When should we do it?” I asked her, squeezing my eyes closed in embarrassment. I opened one eye to gauge her reaction. She wasn’t laughing, so I continued. “I won’t be expected to put out on the first date, will I?”
“Probably not,” she reassured me. “If all goes well, a kiss with a little tongue would be appropriate. Maybe even a little outside the shirt booby action. If all goes fantastic, and you want to bang his brains out, I doubt he would complain, though,” she laughed.
I could handle kissing. It was good to know he wouldn’t learn of my sexual failings on the first date. When Courtney started to leave the kitchen, I called out to her. “Wait. What should I wear?”
Courtney smiled as she put her arm around me and said, “You have asked the right person. Let’s go find you a cute outfit that shows off your perfect ta-tas.” I shook my head as I followed her.
Time seemed to slowly crawl by while I was waiting for Friday. When it finally arrived, my nerves kicked into high gear. All week, I had been writing pick-me-up reminders to myself on sticky notes, and they circled my mirror. I took a moment to read through them. Breathe. You are an intelligent woman. Don’t chatter non-stop. Smile. Do not worry. You are worthy. You deserve to be happy. They were simple, but reading them helped me calm down.
I smiled at the new one that Courtney had added in the center of my mirror. Have fun. I took a sip from the glass of chilled white wine that she had delivered to my bathroom before leaving for her shift at Joe’s.
Since I still had over an hour before I needed to meet Seth at the restaurant, I decided to take a bubble bath. The wine and bath must have been just what I needed because I was almost calm as I donned my denim mini skirt and the v-neck, light pink tee shirt that Courtney had chosen for the occasion. I still couldn’t believe that she had loaned me her favorite cowboy boots with the pastel flowers swirling around them, but they looked fantastic, and gave me just the extra boost of confidence that I needed as I walked to Joe’s.
Joe’s was one of the only full-service, waterfront restaurants in town, and it was bustling with activity when I arrived. Thankfully, Courtney had promised to save us a table. She ran over to greet me as soon as I walked in. “You look fantastic!” she gushed. “He isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you.” Her enthusiasm was contagious as she covered my eyes and led me over to the table that she and I normally shared on girls’ night.
“Ta-da!” she yelled when she removed her hands to reveal how the table had been transformed. Twinkle lights sparkled from above the booth and along the back of the table, a lit candle created a subtle glow, and a bouquet of fresh wildflowers had been placed in a water glass at the center of the table.
“Oh, Court. It’s beautiful! You treat me like a princess,” I said with watery eyes.
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