Oh Boy

BadAnnie finally picked up a boy in her coffee shop. I mean, I go there every day, but never once has anyone tried to pick me up — until last week. Adorable French boy, visiting his friend for the holidays. At first just sociable, they shared my table, made conversation. Came back the next day and he asked me to share again even though it wasn’t crowded – and on my way out, asked me out for a drink when we got back from Christmas. I knew better but said yes anyway, figuring he’d probably come to his senses over the weekend, but no, he texted me, and the night of the blizzard, we went to the Village to see music.

Kissed me in the bar — wow. He does this biting thing when kissing that is really hot. Impossible time getting back, he’s in ridiculous fashionable shoes in a blizzard, no cabs (not that they could drive anyway), finally got him on the subway home. He was a little sick and had been out in the blizzard, so I made tea, but we started fucking before we could drink it.

We started on the bed, he was surprised by my blow job skills, almost came right there but held back, got the condom on, got me up and fucked me in the kitchen. The kitchen? okay, whatever. From behind, with me leaning over the sink, but then (way cool), my arms on the counter behind me, my feet on the opposite counter in front of me, him in between. My trainer would be proud at the number of tricep dips I can do.

He’s passionate and romantic. Back on the bed, round two, he’s on top, one of my legs on his shoulder, in deep, and he gets this wicked little smile and says, if we weren’t using a condom he’s pretty sure he’d be impregnating me now. What American boy says that? It was truly intended as a loving remark, I didn’t feel the need to tell him I probably wasn’t getting pregnant anyway and in any case wouldn’t want to be…

Round three in the morning, he really wanted to come in my mouth, was surprised I encouraged him. Cleaned up and went back to the coffee shop, kind of glad my regular staffers weren’t there, the other one already a little scandalized.

He wanted to see me again in a day or two — I said sure, again figuring he’d probably back out, but he texted again to set it up. I backed out since he’d given me his cold and suggested we try the following night — again, for the third time, sure he would back out, but no…. we went bowling. It was fun, even if I’m still a little too injured to be sporting, and we came back here again. He really is very sweet.

Oh, and I’m going to hell for sure. He’s 24.