Easy was never my favorite word. I do enjoy the occasional challenge. I like it tough. I like it rough. But I concede to being easy as a strategy if I think it will bring home the bacon, beef, or the ever so rare lay. The other night I decided to get in touch with my easy side and give some lucky guy at the club an easy good time. Easy. Right. Then this guy I sort of fancy, an a acquaintance, walks in with some common friends. Great. His lucky night I thought. Easy, right? Little did I know being easy would give me a hard time.
First off, I haven't expressed to any of our common friends any interest whatsoever on this guy. I was, as how straight folk would say, keeping my cool. Second, I know he's still in this heart-broke sulking phase. Plus he's also sort of seeing other guys. Seeing, mingling, playing with other guys. Guys with an S in case you missed it. In fact, one of them was there. And in the course of the night they actually made out on the dance floor first among the group. But wait, that group doesn't go making out with other just like that okay? Just so we're clear. Just them. And then there's me.
So as not to feel the mildest guilt in attempting to connect with aforementioned guy I needed an alibi. That alibi came in the form of another friend of ours who was tipsy. I coerced him to kiss each other knowing he would prod the two of us to kiss as well. And it happened. Before you know it, we had our tongues at it, at the expense of kissing the other friend of course. Then the easiness set in. He would hold my hand in secret. He quietly felt me up from the back. He let me drink from his pitcher. I rested my back on him. Grinding. Slowly. Then he excuses himself. Bathroom break. Everyone was entitled to one. Two. Or even three. Besides, I've already given him the signals. Everything was set. And that was that.
A French exit.
Normally I would have been really frustrated. Good thing I kept my options open. But that's not the end of it. The next time I see him maybe I won't go so easy. Maybe.
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