For part one, also known as the first 21, you can read it here.
#22 through 32 took me from second or third year college / university until the year I met my husband, when I was 25.
- The manager of the campus theatre. I guess he was kind of my professor for my practical theatre classes. He was older, and had a goatee, and wasn’t big or strong. But he really liked me and cooked me dinners (I still remember the pad thai he made for me once), and I was bored. He loved to eat pussy and it was my first experience with someone who would go down on me forever. We spent a summer together and I’m ashamed to say I broke up with him when the football players and actors came back in September.
- Oh, this guy. He was a contractor at the campus pub that was being renovated over the summer. We argued like crazy. He lived about an hour’s north of campus and after one particularly stressful night he asked me if I wanted to go to his place in the country to relax. Why the heck not. The sex was a one-time thing, but he still sent me a huge bouquet of flowers to my student council office and I had to lie to all my friends about who it was that sent them.
- A football player and bouncer. He was a friend first, and he knew about all the others. We fucked in the campus pub bathroom to “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and it still makes me think of him. I don’t recall why we broke up, but I think we decided we’d be better friends than fuck buddies.
- A football player. A fucking gorgeous football player. We fucked just once, after a particularly raucous night of drinking, in my campus office, and I got rug burn on my knees. ‘Nuff said.
- I wish I knew who #26 was, but I have no clue whatsoever. Perhaps after this post goes up and I ruminate on it, it will come to me. Apparently I slept with him more than once, so this is a little embarrassing (yes, I indicate when it’s a one-time-only thing).
- One of the few that got away. I went to high school with him but he was a year older and hung out in a different crowd. Met him at a close friends wedding over Christmas break, and we were both single. He was 6’7″ and completely proportioned and we had astounding sex that night. I ripped his shirt off his body and we spent time the next morning picking all the buttons off the floor. He was in a different city for school but for months we emailed (on dial-up!) and talked on the phone and visited each other when we could. The sex with him was some of the best I’d ever had at the time. He ended up going off to the wilderness to fight fires and now he’s a helicopter pilot, married with children, and I resist looking at his Facebook page because he’s still so goddamned gorgeous.
- The actor. He and I worked on several shows together and there was fierce chemistry between us. I first kissed him in a taxicab after a party and realized the next day he didn’t remember. He smoked a lot of pot. We were off and on for two years, never exclusive. We would fuck for hours to “Blood Sugar Sex Magic” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers and that album still turns me on today. He introduced me to sex whilst high, all kinds of sex toys, and my second (and third) threesomes with #30.
- A stagehand. One night only, after a party (probably because #28 wasn’t available) and the fucker stole my favourite umbrella which was teal and by Totes. I wish the sex was more memorable than the loss of my umbrella, but such is life.
- An actor. Friend of #28. We had a threesome together twice and it was amazing. I will write about it separately. He thought however it meant that I’d sleep with him solo, and when I didn’t he was upset.
- Gorgeous tourist from Boston who I picked up in a bar. Accent that made me literally drop my panties. He told me he ran a funeral home which I’m sure was just a joke but I didn’t care. I really wished I would have seen him again. I can’t remember the sex but I can remember how crazy hot he was.
- A friend from school who I’d known for a couple of years. We moved back to our city and the friendship turned to sex. The sex was terrible, otherwise he may have been a good relationship candidate. He was the last man I slept with before my husband. We stayed friends for a while – my husband hated him – and ironically when I moved into my current house, he had just moved away from the building across the street. He’s still single and likely as intellectually crusty as I remember.
- My husband. I had been on a series of bad dates and had pretty much given up on meeting anyone, when mutual friends introduced us. Our first phone conversation lasted 3 hours…our intellectual connection was undeniable. He was handsome, too. Put together, good job, good manners. We kissed on our first date, and on our third he took me dancing and we went back to his house and had sex for a couple of days off and on. He introduced me to fisting.
So… that takes me to age 25. As you know if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, the sex pretty much died out in my marriage and it wasn’t until the fall a few years ago, after “opening” our marriage, that I met:
- Faraway Lover. The night we met is described in this post. I’m still working on the rest of our story.
- Another Faraway Lover. I haven’t written about him yet, but he came into my life exactly when I needed him…when my heart was breaking over #34. We were away at a work event and he knew my job was changing which meant he’d likely not see me again. He knew he had to act if he wanted to tell me how he felt. And act he did.
That concludes this portion of the pre-split story.
Many of the post-split men have been written about on these pages. Some have not. I suppose I could do a tally to see where my number is, and write a third post. Likely the feedback on these will be what sways me, so let me know what you think.