Category Archives: Loving a Narcissist

Going Commando

As promised he called when he got off work and we arranged to meet to move his car.

I got there before him but he called to say he was only 10 minutes away. I was standing beside my car when he pulled in. He saw me and smiled, flashing me a peace symbol. (Who gives a peace symbol in 1999?)

Oh well, no one’s perfect.

He pulled up, rolled down his window, and immediately started apologizing for being late. I couldn’t help notice his bare chest, he was wearing the same black leather jacket, with only the bottom snap done up. I knew I was staring but couldn’t pull my gaze away, slightly tanned, just a bit of curly chest hair and a 6 pack. I am sure my mouth was hanging open.

He followed my gaze, and casually shrugged, “Oh……my shirt got dirty at work today so I took it off.”

I felt my cheeks getting warm, a tingling in my stomach that radiated down between my legs, I could feel myself getting wet.

I am sure I looked like a lobotomy patient and the voice in my head kept telling me to close my mouth before I started to drool.

He grinned, (he knew the effect he was having on me) jumped out of the car and said he needed something out of the trunk. I forced myself to look anywhere but at his chest, I actually feared I might reach out and touch him. When he turned his back to me, I rolled my eyes and almost laughed out loud, DAMN!! (His jeans were ripped revealing the boy went commando.)

To myself “You are done girlfriend. This boy knows exactly what he is doing and you are falling for it! Shame on you! But if I get a chance I am screwing this guy’s brains out.”

An argument started in my head.

Good girl me, “God, get a grip! He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Bad girl me, “Yeah, so? So do I. He’s making me horny! There! I said it!!”

GGM, “You don’t even know him! And your acting like a school girl with a crush. Have some class! Your embarrassing me!”

BGM, “Oh grow up!! Where did being a good girl get me? I am sick of always being a good girl, behaving myself, being responsible. I want to have fun!”

GGM, “What about STD’s, what about your 40 year old ass?!!”

BGM, “ever heard of condoms? and what’s wrong with my ass? Guys love my ass?”

GGM, “You don’t even know how to put one on a guy!”

BGM, “You know, you are really starting to piss me off. We are all adults here. If I want to screw his brains out, no harm done. I am a big girl. I’ve been married 3 times, maybe I should have just screwed them instead of marrying them. Now, shut up!!”

GGM, “Ok, you might have a point. After all you have gotten your shit together, you are the most confident you’ve ever been. Kris is old enough, he doesn’t a mom any more. It’s your time to fly free. But, I am right here if you need me, don’t do anything stupid.”

BGM, “Shhh, he’s saying something and I totally missed it.”

He was holding the passenger door open for me.

We moved his car, a classic 71 Chevy Sprint.

I have always loved classic cars.

I thought it was rather strange he made a point of telling me he had fully insured both cars for a year. He also told me he had paid his rent in full for the length of the course he was taking. “He is young and trying to show you he’s responsible. That’s a good thing, right?

Don’t over analyze everything!

We stopped so he could buy a 6 pack of coolers, he asked if I would mind just sitting in the car and talking. He felt uncomfortable going in anywhere without a shirt and didn’t have a whole lot of time before he had to run to get the ferry.

We parked behind my car and just talked. Easy, getting to know you type conversation.

Did he have any kids?

Well, to be honest he didn’t know for sure. He had been very much in love with a woman and she got pregnant. He was trucking at the time, but got them an apartment and was looking forward to becoming a dad. She didn’t work, she was alot younger than him, so he was working long hours and coming home to do all the cooking and cleaning but he understood she wasn’t feeling well with the pregnancy.
Then one day he came back from a run to a totally empty apartment and she was gone. Her and her parents had emptied his storage locker of a bunch of priceless treasures he had collected through his years of trucking. She took off and he never saw her again.

He had run into her sister who showed him a picture of the baby. He pulled a tattered picture of a little boy out of his wallet and passed it to me. His eyes filled with tears and I touched his hand. He looked away, as if embarrassed to let me see him cry, and he wiped his eyes. He told me that after she left everyone told him she had been screwing around on him with an ex boyfriend the whole time they were together and it wasn’t his kid.

His voice cracked and he fought back tears as he told me, even though he had been adopted by a great family and had a wonderful childhood it just seemed so unfair that he had been given up for adoption and now his son had been taken from him. He had sworn that he would never give up a child of his.

My heart broke for him, it was unfair. I told him he needed to find her and the child and have a blood test done so he knew for sure.

Finally he said he should really get going, he pulled me close, looked in my eyes and his lips grazed mine, soft, tender, hinting at a passion simmering under the surface that made me almost moan out loud. He whispered that he had never told anyone about his son, but for some reason he felt a connection with me. I felt my seat recline. Again his lips teased mine and my back arched against him. His strong hand slipped down to the small of my back, pressing me against him as his leg slid between my legs.

He kept talking between gentle kisses that grew in intensity taking my breath away; he hadn’t been able to sleep last night, thinking about our kiss. He usually doesn’t on a first date but when I kissed his neck, he couldn’t help himself. (What man doesn’t kiss on a first date?), *Kiss, kissing is so important, *kiss, he was relieved to find out, *kiss, I was a good kisser.

My tongue could not be contained any longer and slid between his lips and was met by his tongue. His hands roaming between my legs, “could he feel how wet I was through my jeans?” up my shirt, “God help me!” I wanted him right there and then, but the good girl me, stopped him, just as his thumb grazed my nipple and my groin pressed against his leg. I moaned.

We were both out of breath as he sat up, then he laughed, “Look at the windows! They’re totally steamed up! Usually I’m not into public displays of affection, I can’t help myself with you.”

He went on about how people must have been walking past knowing what we were doing and we laughed about his ass up against the windshield and how uncomfortable the stick shift was.

He looked at his watch and said, “Shit! I have to go!! I’ll miss my ferry!!”

I kissed him on the cheek and got out. As I was about to close the door I hear him say, “Hey, Babe.”

Did he just call you Babe?? Hahaha that’s so cheesy!! Babe??! That is so “James Dean-ish”.”

I looked back and he was leaning across the passenger seat, eyes pleading, with his hand out, “Come here for a minute please.”

“I’d really like to cook you supper when I get back on Monday.”

Me: “ok.”

He handed me a piece of paper, “This my mom’s number. My cell doesn’t always work when I’m there. Call me.”

I liked that right from the start he had put the ball in my court by giving me his number. I was sick of guys who asked for my number and didn’t call, in fact I had stopped giving out my number.

I found myself thinking about him a lot; to be honest. I had wanted him so bad in the car and couldn’t recall ever getting that passionate with any man.

But he called me “Babe” on our first date, who does that?

God he was a good kisser!

He wants kids and you can’t have any more kids and don’t want any more kids,

He called when he said he was going to and when he was only 10 minutes late. How considerate.

He holds the door open for you.

God he’s a good kisser!

Did you see his chest??!!!

He gave you a peace symbol!

“STOP ANALYZING! just relax and take it one day at a time!”

“Ok ok. One day at a time”

I had never felt such passion, had never lost control of my body’s response like that. I hadn’t thought that kind of passion actually happened. I thought it only happened in the movies.

It was so intense it scared me but made me crave more. I longed to be out of control and give in to the passion, what would happen if I just gave into it? If I gave up control?

I wanted to know.

Advertisements

First Date, First Kiss

I don’t know about you, but it never seems to matter how long I do the dating thing I always get the jitters. “What if he doesn’t show up?” “What if he doesn’t like me?”

I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter, I didn’t even know him, but for some reason, with the handsome stranger, it mattered.

Sure enough, he called me at work to cancel, he explained he was waiting for money to come in from his accident.

He told me he was a little embarrassed to admit it but the other night in the bar he had just pawned one of his guitars and he was anxious to get his money so he could get it back.

The money was supposed to be there in the morning but he didn’t know when and he didn’t want to be late or leave me waiting. He had just bought a BMW that he had to pick up and he didn’t want to be rushed. Could we move it to Friday evening instead?

Sure! I didn’t have to work on Saturdays, better for me. He was obviously relieved and surprised. He told me most women would be pissed off.

I didn’t see why a woman wouldn’t understand, it wasn’t like he stood me up, he just moved the date one day.

Friday I wore my new jeans to work so I could meet him at the bar at 6 pm. (Everyone had told me my new jeans made my ass look great). I was waiting in the parking lot when he called to say he was almost there. He said to look for a green BMW. I didn’t know what a BMW looked like but I saw him pull in, he was right on time.

He held the bar door open for me, it was really busy but we found a table.

We were right beside the door to the patio and the door to the kitchen, so there was alot of traffic going by and my chair got knocked into often, it was loud, and he asked if I was ok sitting there. I shrugged and said sure. (I just never get upset about little things like that.)

Again, he was pleasantly surprised, as most women would be complaining about the noise and traffic. I thought, “Sheesh, who has this guy been dating?! It’s a popular bar on a Friday night.”

He ordered steak and prawns. I didn’t eat, I didn’t have alot of money and planned on going Dutch, besides I was nervous and not hungry.

He fed me a prawn off his plate and I ate it. Again, he was impressed I would take food off his fork. I thought, “this guy must have dated some real loser women if he is this easily impressed.”

He asked the waitress for the bill and mentioned he had to work the next day and couldn’t stay out too late. I felt a twinge of disappointment. I pulled out my wallet to pay my share and he said, don’t be silly, he had it covered. Then he said he didn’t want the night to end, and asked if I knew of a quieter place where we could talk.

I knew of a lounge about 10 minutes away. We took his car and parked across the street.

He opened my car door for me and as we crossed the street I felt his strong arm slide easily around my waist in a protective sort of way. My stomach got butterflies.

The lounge was quiet which allowed us to talk more easily. There were no awkward silences, laughter came easy, we had compatible values.

He seemed very humble and almost embarrassed to tell me about his accomplishments. He was very interested in my life, my interests, my job, my son. For once a guy was more interested in hearing about me than trying to impress me by talking incessantly about himself.

By the way he looked at me; intently, as if mesmorized by my every word, I could tell he really liked me. I felt desirable, appreciated, sexy, special; like he felt lucky to be with me.

He mentioned he had left his other car where he had picked up his BMW and didn’t know how he would get it.
I volunteered to help him drive it back to his place, if he couldn’t find anyone else to help him. He was impressed I was willing to do that and seemed surprised.

The way he held eye contact gave me goose bumps. Those blue blue eyes. Our hands brushed on the table. Our thighs touched. Our feet touched. He brushed my hair out of my eyes. Oh my!!

He seemed to have experienced almost too much for a man his age. He was a licensed heavy duty mechanic, a class 1 driving instructor, a ticketed welder/fabricator, had played lead guitar for a popular band before the band got famous (he left the band months prior to them getting their big break) Now he was in school for water/sewer technology because the motorcycle accident he’d had left him unable to do any of his previous trades.

He had said they had told him he would never walk again but he didn’t even limp. He said it was a miracle! I agreed, I had nursed my husband after his motorcycle accident and knew how unforgiving a motor cycle accident could be.

As we crossed the street to leave he grabbed my hand.

*Little electric shocks*

His hands dwarfed mine and were callused and strong. (I have always loved a working man’s hands. No soft pudgy manicured hands for me; calloused hands turn me on.)

He drove me back to my car. We parked. He explained he had to catch the ferry the next day after work to go back “home” to spend time with his mom. He mentioned he goes home every weekend. (That made sense, it was home. But it also meant that any kind of long term relationship between him and I was unlikely.)

He said he would call me when he got off work and if I wasn’t busy we could move his car before he left. Sounded good to me.

Then, it came, that awkward time when a couple kisses, or not.

I decided to take the lead. I thanked him very much and leaned in, brushing my lips against his neck as I whispered, “Thank you. I really had a nice time”. He smelled good, clean, fresh.

I felt his fingers in my hair, and as I pulled away he brushed the hair from my face, our lips touched and he kissed me ever so sweetly. His lips were full, soft, gentle, and lingered; no tongue, not forceful, just sweet and sensual, leaving me a little breathless and definitely wanting more.

THE one thing that determines whether or not there is any hope of a future relationship is how a guy kisses. If he can’t kiss, it doesn’t matter how great he is in any other area; it’s a non-starter for me.

* He could kiss. Oh my God. He could kiss.

You May Not Remember Me

…………. You May Not Remember Me

He laughed, “I remember you, Carrie right?”

✓ He remembered me

Me, “I hope it’s not too late to call.”

Him with a chuckle, “ummm no, it’s not too late, (I looked at the clock, it was 10 pm) I was just playing my guitar. How did your date go, it didn’t last very long?”

“He was a pompous ass lawyer.”

Him laughing, “Pompous ass lawyer eh?! That’s funny. I like you.”

✓ He liked me and I liked that

We talked for a couple of hours. I said, “So you play the guitar?” (My dad had played the guitar and I had taken lessons when I was a teenager) He explained he played lead guitar but had a headset he could wear so as not to disturb the neighbors.

✓ Considerate

I couldn’t believe how much we had in common, he had just found his birth mom, I had given a child up for adoption when I was 16.

He lived on the coast, I love the ocean, water of any kind really. I was buying a cabin on a lake and he told me he was buying a house on the ocean.

He was recovering from a bad motorcycle accident, (my first husband had almost died in a motorcycle accident). He was attending school and living temporarily about an hour from me, to retrain in a new profession because of his accident.

He asked me if he could buy me dinner sometime and I said I thought we had quite an age difference. He laughed and asked how old I thought he was, I guessed him to be in his late 20’s maybe 30, and I was 41.

He told me he was 34 and he had dated women much older than me. I was hesitant but he said he preferred a women a bit older because they weren’t into games, knew what they wanted, and maybe they could teach him something.

We laughed.

✓ He “got” my sense of humor

On a hunch I asked him when his birthday was. He told me the date and said, “I’m a libra.”

Me: “I knew it! I can’t date you, sorry.”

Him: “You don’t like Libra’s?”

Me: “No actually, I like them too much. I always end up falling in love with them and it’s never a good thing.

Him: “What horoscope sign do you like? I can be any sign you want?”

✓ Charming – a Libra trait.

I agreed to go out with him the next night after work.

I liked him, I really liked him.

Conversation had been easy, we laughed alot! We had alot in common, he was polite, like a boy who was raised in a good family to be respectful and polite,and I could tell he was into me.

He had told me he was raised by older, very religious adoptive parents on a farm in Saskatchewan. I have a lot of relatives in Saskatchewan and know people from Sask are different, in a good way. They tend to be neighborly, honest, and hard working.
He had found his birth mother only a few months earlier and flown to Vancouver to meet her, a full blood sister and two 1/2 siblings. He had been so nervous the whole plane had cheered him on and wished him well when they landed. He had bought champagne and flowers. The meeting had been better than anything he had imagined and they had such a connection he had stayed for 2 weeks. When he flew home he immediately quit his job, packed up his stuff and drove back to BC so he could get to know his birth family.

He said his family and friends in Saskatchewan had been worried he would be lead astray in the big city but he was loving the city, the ocean, his family. He was so thankful and blessed.

His birth mom and him were close immediately and talked daily.
He sounded very sweet, again I thought maybe he was too young for me, too niave.

I didn’t want a love sick puppy hanging around, I hate love sick puppies.

But he lived far enough away to not be a nuisance yet close enough to see on weekends.

Besides, I was a grown adult, he was extremely good looking, and if I wanted casual sex, I could have casual sex. Everyone kept telling me I didn’t have to marry every guy I had sex with!