While it’s extremely difficult to get the precise numbers, I can say that unfortunately, unknowingly, and very much to my Brazilian waxed vaginal dismay I became part of 2009’s infidelity statistic. This unequivocally and absolutely goes against every grain of my moral, cellular and ethical being. And now my poor unsuspecting adulterous vagina — I just found out about this sexual and dishonorable tidbit of information last night over a Guinness beer at one of my favorite local Irish pubs.
I don’t remember the exact day, but what I do remember is that it was one of those typical warm California Summer nights — I recall feeling salty, sandy, and tanned from spending the afternoon at the beach, despite having taken a shower before heading out for food and cocktails. I was wearing black short shorts, brown equestrian style boots, and a vintage western blouse as I breezily went for sushi happy hour at an extremely trendy Venice Beach hot spot.
Once there, I ended up bumping into a local guy/friend that I once casually dated and his other friends at the bar. The guy I used to date had one friend who just so happened to be tall, dark and devilishly handsome. I was attracted to him immediately and the more he flirted with me the more charming and engaging he became.
The possibility of romance going further than the bar was absolutely the gigantic cartoonish caption bubble hovering over my captivated swooning head – A devilishly handsome flirty guy along with his tempting wooing ways was just too impossible to be true. However, he was I’d like to blank your brains out too hot to ignore.
As we all finished up at the bar, devilishly handsome guy invited me back to his swanky shoreline Santa Monica hotel for cocktails and while at the hotel’s bar the flirting became more sexual, but I was not objecting — perhaps he is “the one”?
Our heated exchange went on for about an hour and then he authoritatively asked for and paid our tab while simultaneously asking me if I wanted to go to his room. I’m not naive and figured that once getting there, I would go only as far as I wanted (sex wise). Immediately, when we got into the room he ordered a really good bottle of wine and it did not take long before we were on the bed kissing, clothes off, and having sex.
One thing that really pops out in my mind (no pun intended) was his forcefulness as he pushed my head to his “head” which in retrospect now seems to be overtly selfish behavior on his behalf. And what I now know became to be a one night stand with a married man.
He got up quickly right after he came and went to take a shower, as I laid there for a fast minute I knew I had to leave — something was not right. As I put my clothes back on, I wondered if I should leave my business card or my number on the hotel notepad. I opted not to and left quickly while he was still in the shower. I could see the steam drifting out from the slight crack in the pristine five-star hotel door….
To be continued.