Confession is good for the soul

I’ve been seeing a new guy, Skaterboi, since November 19, 2010, the day after Manwhore went up to visit his other girlfriend. I actually started talking to him on October 29, 2010. He was one of the people who responded to my ill-fated Craig’s List Halloween posting. He seemed like a nice decent guy so after talking for a few weeks I decided I’d meet him at a bar close by. We met and had a few drinks and hung out for a while. Since I was apartment sitting for the Manwhore I decided it would be suiting for me to get my revenge by inviting Skaterboi back to the apartment for cocktails. Now I knew very well that since I had a few drinks in me and was horny, lonely, pissed off at Manwhore, heartbroken, and seeking revenge, I would probably end up sleeping with the guy. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was funny, nice, a real gentleman, we had a lot in common, and he didn’t sit there and stare off into space for hours on end. He actually conversed with me.

We ended up having sex that night, several times, and he slept over. Admittedly I was nervous about this because I had told Manwhore that I wouldn’t have anyone in his apartment with the possible exception of my sister and her female friend. I really didn’t like knowing that I was breaking a promise to him, but what the hell, after all the lying and cheating and heartache he had caused me, why should I care about breaking a promise to him? It almost gave me a wicked sense of pleasure to have sex and sleep in his bed with another man. God only knows how many women had been in that bed with him while he was “dating” me. So overall it didn’t bother me enough to stop me from having the guy stay over again the next night. Muahahaha! I know, I know. You’re probably thinking that either I’m an evil wicked whore myself or that justice was served on a bed of sexual iniquity. I like to think of it as the latter.

After waking up that Sunday morning with Skaterboi and going out for coffee we headed off to meet my childhood icon. Now this is something that almost blew my mind. When a guy is willing to go so far as to put his manhood on the line by standing in line with me waiting to meet Hello Kitty, and taking pictures of me with Hello Kitty and with the cute cars and trucks covered in HK and friends graphics, then that’s a man with balls of steel. He made a few sarcastic remarks during it, which were kind of funny, but overall he was very tolerant of me and my Hello Kitty obsessed agenda. That’s one thing that I really appreciate, a man that is willing to do something with me that he obviously isn’t into, but he knows that it will make me happy. At the end of my day with Skaterboi and Hello Kitty I was very happy.

Now this is where the day goes from good to bad. After lunch with Skaterboi, Manwhore sends me a text saying that he’s thinking about coming home early. He was originally scheduled to come back on Thursday, Thanksgiving Day. This was Sunday. Why the hell would he decide to come back so soon? He had only been up there since Thursday and was supposed to be spending quality time with the “love of his life” and fucking her brains out. I assumed something else happened and put a kink in his plans. However, Manwhore claimed that he felt bad about me being left alone there during the holiday and wanted to come back and take me somewhere for a mini-vacation. Well, gee thanks, but I was kind of enjoying my time alone in your apartment fucking this other guy’s brains out.

Due to Manwhore’s premature arrival plans I had to come up with an excuse to get Skaterboi to head home. Of course I hated lying to him, but I was now in a pickle and didn’t see any other way out. Once I sent him on his way I had to rush around cleaning the apartment, because I had promised I would, and I also had to wash the sheets and comforter and make sure all the evidence of my having company over was disposed of before he got home. This included taking out the trash filled with Chinese take-out food leftovers and wine and liquor bottles. Once all of this was done I really did have to start working on my homework because my weekend naughtiness had caused me to get behind on it. Plus I wanted it to look like I had been busy working on it all day once Manwhore got back home.

OK, so Manwhore arrives at his spotless apartment around 7:00 pm and decides that he wants to drive to the beach that night. All I’m hearing is “beach” and “vacation” so I agree to quickly pack my bag and hit the road with him. We arrive at a hotel on the beach somewhere around 1:00 am Monday morning. I notice that during the entire drive to the beach he hardly says two words to me and keeps the radio cranked up to a ridiculously loud level. I assume this is to keep himself awake. After all, he had been up since early that morning flying for hours, driving an hour home, and now driving three more hours to the beach. Once in the hotel room we order pizza and each lay on one of the double beds and watch some television until we fall asleep. I wake up a few hours later to get some water and go to the bathroom and when I come back in the room he’s awake and asks why I’m sleeping in the other bed and not in the bed with him. I explain that after his trip to go see the “love of his life” I didn’t really feel comfortable being in the same bed with him. My hormones sometimes get the better of me. After having a smoke out on the balcony and listening to the waves rolling in for a few minutes, I eventually gave in and got in the bed with him when I came back in. I tried to pretend to fall back asleep but he either knew I was faking or didn’t care and started putting the moves on me that is if you can actually call them moves. He isn’t the most romantic guy in bed and he’s definitely not a fan of foreplay. Anyway, the sex was awful and I regretted it afterward. Thankfully, it was the one and only time we had sex while on our little trip to the beach, and the last time.

The rest of the trip was painfully uncomfortable. He hardly talked to me and I didn’t know what to say to him for fear of starting an argument. The only thing that I was interested in asking him about was why he really left the “love of his life” four days early to come spend a few days at the beach with me in virtual silence and not even once actually going down to the beach. We mostly sat in the condo and watched television. Shit, I could have done that at home and even had control over the remote control. So we ended up leaving a day early, on Wednesday. I was kind of relieved because as I said, it was torturous just sitting there basically in silence for three days.

Now that my relationship with Manwhore is over and I’ve moved on to Skaterboi I felt the need to confess my wickedness of that weekend. I don’t know why. I rarely know why I do what I do.

I actually started this confession before the Manwhore has left the building post, but due to being stuck up at the Preacher’s house for four days, I’m just now posting it. Sorry about that.

4 thoughts on “Confession is good for the soul

  1. Pingback: Sex hiatus may be on hiatus. « Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

  2. Pingback: Po-Po hoe! « Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

  3. Pingback: Bad Sex Sucks « Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

  4. Pingback: It’s time to tell all. « Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

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