What's more, you come to know yourself better, you might even come to realize that you were wrong about a certain "type" of person. It reminds you that your fears of others are based on virtually nothing. It is good to remember that from time to time.
Lastly, Picking up Dudes in Bars reminds you that anything is possible. I would never have guessed at the beginning of the evening that I am about to describe that it would go the way it did. The world can surprise you in very wonderful ways if you give it the opportunity. All you have to do is give it that.
I was in the vicinity of the great city of Chicago, from which I hale, visiting a friend for the evening in the quaint little suburb of Forest Park. She and I were strolling The Boulevard of Broken Dreams, (this street cannot have an acronym, as specificity in any event in which you refer to it is paramount),an avenue we had frequented in our youth. We had a delightful little dinner and two bottles of wine at a quaint Italian place, then decided to go back to some of the bars where we had done serious damage in the past.
We walk in to the first bar and there in front of us are two brothers, roughly ten years our junior, looking all muscle-y and shit. Holy crap were they adorable. “Look Tracy!” I said with glee in my voice, and loud enough so they could hear, “how sweet! They must be brothers!” They boldly looked at us up and down, as those Midwestern men do, and then we fell into a delightful conversation about their motorcycles. They were very proud of them. I decided to take that opportunity to make fun of them for that. Midwestern men also love sarcastic women. Take note.
After a beer, one of the brothers, I forget his name, asked me if I wanted to go outside and see his motorcycle. I happily accepted. It happened to be right out front and turned out to be one of those crotch rocket things. It was blue and white. I burst out laughing. I am kind of a wise-ass when I am buzzed. He just smiled and asked if I wanted a ride. I replied that no, I did not, and that I never ride on the back of motorcycles, or on the front for that matter, due to the attachment I have to my life.
I did take the opportunity to let him know how much I enjoy walking. He smiled and told me that he also liked walking. So I took his hand and led him around the corner, and in the shadow of the building, I pushed him up against the wall and kissed him, hard. Then I started rubbing his amazingly muscle-y body, and he rubbed mine. The next few minutes that passed were quite wondrous. So much so that I unbuckled his belt, pulled down his pants, got on my knees and gave him a blow job. These moments were also quite wondrous.
Minutes later, from around the corner, we heard his brother calling his name, whatever it was, so I got off my knees and pulled up his pants. He complained that he was just about to cum (yes, I am that good), and asked if I would go home with him. I replied that I would not, as that would entail getting on the back of his crotch rocket. Immediately after I responded in exactly that manner I laughed. He frowned. I kissed him and said good-bye. Then he left. Not happily really, but in the end, I figured he got a blow job from a chick against a building, so really, how bad was I gonna feel about that?
I returned to my friend in the bar and we decided to move on down The Boulevard of Broken Dreams. As we walked I told her my tale of victory. She laughed. It was invigorating to see my old friend again.
The next bar we visited was basically empty, which filled me with sadness because it used to be the MOST hoppin’ place on The Boulevard of Broken Dreams. We sat down at the bar, at an angle from two fellas on the other side. We ordered crap beers and then began talking. I knew it was only a matter of time before we started talking to those guys. Simple math, actually, two single guys, buzzed, two single gals, buzzed, close to the end of the night in an empty bar. I believe that is what they call Addition in elementary schools all across the nation.
Soon enough, they had moved over toward us, and I was happy to see that the tall blond burley fella was taking a liking to me. We were chatting about baseball, drinking beer, and flirt/groping just a bit. It was then that I suggested we take a walk. Of course, I checked in with Tracy before I did this to make sure I was not leaving her with a dude she was not stoked to be left with, and she seemed good with it, so out we went into the Midwestern summer night with nothing but our dreams and sex drives to guide us.
We eventually came to an alley/parking lot type thing and he lifted me up and sat me on top of an old Cadillac. It put me at just the right height so we could start making out easily, being eye to eye and whatnot. I wondered momentarily if he liked the way cock tasted, and thought of asking, but I figured that might kill the mood.
It was pretty hot. He was a great kisser, and he knew exactly how to pull my hair to give me the message that he was going to have me. I was incredibly surprised to see how quickly he went down on me. I mean, it was almost right away. Luckily, I was wearing a skirt so all he had to do was take off my panties..which I never found again, and work his magic. And it was pretty magical. After I came, he unbuttoned his pants. I made to give him my very best, but he said he wanted to fuck me. Of course I did not have my damn condoms with me, and he said he had none, but that he didn’t care.
I told him that I did, that I just got tested, I was clean and care free and did not want to worry about his cock being diseased. That was when he kinda got pissed at the insinuation. It was a bit of a tussle to be frank. I mean…not in a serious way..we grappled a bit, started making out again, groping each other, and in the end I did fuck him. Without a condom. Which freaked me out for about six months. I was at Planned Parenthood ever month or two after that getting tested for STDs.
I emerged unscathed, disease-wise, but this is one of those things that I have always prided myself on and in that moment, fell short. This could have easily ended badly in so many ways, and in the end, it ruined the experience for me. I mean, I could not really bask in the glow of great sex and a great sexual conquest due to the fact that I was worried I was going to, at any moment, find growths or start itching or what have you.
That being said, six months later, when I was sure I had not contracted a disease, I was more free to revel in the beauty of that night, but still, I had to wait six months to truly look back and enjoy it. That is a hell of a waiting period for a pleasurable experience to land.
This unpleasantness notwithstanding, this was what I would consider to be an epic victory. In both scenarios, I was able to boldly and confidently speak to people who I had as of that very moment, never laid eyes on. My evening turned out to be an adventure because I was willing to put myself out there.
It turned out to be a night I will never forget.