I woke up yesterday morning to find an email in my old AOL account. It was from a guy I met a few years ago, who we will call TheSaabGuy. The night before, we had talked for the first time in however long (more than a year, that’s for sure).
Good catching up with you last night - thought you had dropped off the scope! Finally got some much needed sleep here. Hope you did too.
Invitation for dinner is still open - my old roommate sent me a box of Omaha steaks this week as a gift for taking care of some stuff for him so we can chow on those! Drop me an email this week or give me a call xxx.xxx.xxxx when you get the time.
Talk to you soon!
I thought, “Wow. That’s a nice offer.” I had considered accepting the offer, until I thought about why we haven’t gone out in so long – then I remembered.
I don’t exactly remember when I had met TheSaabGuy – I think it might have been shortly after my birthday in 2002, winter-time. Doing some work online, I received an instant message from a person with a username that obviously indicated he was 31, lived in San Diego, and that he was a guy. He told me he spotted my profile, owned property and lived in Carlsbad, worked as some sort of businessman (I don’t remember what kind of “business” exactly), earned his MBA from some school I didn’t care enough about to remember, and spent a few years as a commissioned officer in the Marines. He sent a few photos; some of his house in Carlsbad, a few of him in uniform, etc. I liked the photos, so I kept talking to him and found him to be somewhat intelligent, which ultimately resulted in me continuing our correspondence for what seemed like two months. Unfortunately (for him), he was involved in a fairly serious relationship with a girl from a neighboring town – and the relationship was turning pretty sour, which was believable as his reasoning for its decline was a valid one (lack of communication). I thought nothing of it, as I had detected no indication that it would go beyond chatting online – until he started calling me.
TheSaabGuy didn’t call me often, but when he did, the conversations were generally fluent in small talk and topics of current events; however, one phone call in particular sticks out in my head. I don’t remember the flow of the discourse or how we got there, but I remember lying down on my bed – I think I had just gotten home from wherever or was getting ready to leave. The topic of conversation went from something completely trivial, to relationships, women, men, and then sex. Next thing you know, his tone of voice changes from casual to don’t-quit-your-day-job seductive (as in “failed,” if you don’t understand my description). All of this, while the topic of conversation shifts from waxing intellectual about sex to my past exploits and whatever it was I was wearing at the moment. After ten minutes, my slow thinking abilities finally catch up and I realize what he’s doing.
A: What are you… doing?
Saab: What do you think I’m doing?
A: You’re not jerking off, are you?
Saab: Well, yeah.
Saab: So, [insert sexy babble]
A: …uh huh.
Saab: [sexy babble continues]
[sexy babble continues for five minutes, complete with my infamous one-word responses]
Saab: Okay, this whole phone sex thing is kind of weird.
A: …ah, yeah.
Bad-phone-sex tone of voice reverts to casual tone of voice and he bids me farewell as he has to wake up early. What a relief.
A couple of weeks later, I don’t remember specifically when, we were talking again and I’m not sure how the subject came up, but things weren’t going so well with his girlfriend (whom he almost broke up with), so he wasn’t doing too well. Combined, he and I are natural geniuses and figured that getting together to hook up would make everything better – this is Annik’s version of putting 2 and 2 together to get 4, folks. I hadn’t gotten laid in a while; bear with me. So I give him directions to my place and remind him that we can’t do it there because I’m living with my mother. That, and the place was filthy and being that I’m lazy, I didn’t want to clean it. He says he’ll get a room for the night and blah, blah, blah; you get the idea. “See you in an hour.”
No doubt, an hour later, he pulls up in a Saab. I was wearing my famous black nurse’s dress, complete with heels – or was it flip flops? I don’t remember, but I know I looked like a raging slut. TheSaabGuy, on the other hand, was wearing business attire – button-up collared shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. It looked like something you would see out of an episode of Cops – a successful businessman picking up an Asian hooker turning expensive tricks out of her home. It was kind of hot, in a dirty porno fantasy kind of way. We make small talk and hit the hotel room he reserved at the Holiday Inn, which was only a few miles down the street from my house near the Long Beach Municipal Airport. We walk inside of the seemingly expensive facility and hit the elevator as our room was on the fourth or fifth floor of the tower, though I’m not sure – there was a nice view of Long Beach, though. I walk into the room, set my purse down, and take a look out the window. The night was pretty clear as I could get a good view of Signal Hill, which put me in a fairly good mood – and when I’m in a good mood, I’m usually pretty horny. Well, who am I kidding? I get horny when I’m angry. I turn around and take a look at him sitting on the bed. Not wanting to be rude before going for a ride on his seed steed, I sit down beside him and ask him casual questions – how are you doing, how was the ride over, etc. I’m not exactly sure what happened at that point, but we ended up lying down, making out for a few minutes with a grope here and a grope there from his manly and well-maintained hands. Kissing me, groping my rack, and unbuttoning my dress completely – all done simultaneously. Truly, this man was talented. My bare chest was now fully exposed, as well as my black panties. He kissed my face, my neck, my lips, rinse, repeat – and each time he kissed my neck, I expected him to go down further to get things going. He kissed my lips again and stuck his hand down my panties and began fondling me. I thought, “Wow. Finally, we’re making progress. LOOK OUT ORGASM, HERE I COME.” He stopped everything, for what seemed like an awkward second, momentarily. He resumed his actions, but once again, stopped everything he was doing and rested his head on my chest. I thought this was kind of unusual, especially since the hiatus was a lot more prolonged than the previous time.
A: Is something wrong?
A: What is it?
Saab: I don’t think I can do this.
A: Ah, why is that? (translation: ...come again?)
Saab: I don’t know. I just… feel REALLY guilty.
A: Guilty? (translation: WHAT?)
Saab: You’re really very, very beautiful…but I can’t do this.
A: Okay, that’s fine. (translation: FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU.)
Saab: I just can’t cheat on her. I don’t have the heart to do it.
A: I understand completely, don’t worry about it. (translation: if you seriously had any fucking balls, that is exactly where I’d kick you.)
Saab: Get dressed, I’ll take you home.
The course of conversation in that ten minutes happened so fast, I wasn’t sure whether to be frustrated or grateful. Well, I didn’t get the penis so I was naturally frustrated. I buttoned up, kept a smile on my face, and we headed out. He apologized profusely up until we pulled up to my place where we both said good night. I walked into the living room and looked out the window as he drove off and thought, “Man. I am never doing that again.”
I rubbed one out and went to sleep.
Date: 8/29/2005 11:06:19 PM Pacific Daylight Time
To: My AOL account
Do me a favor and dont post that story about us - hopefully you havent already? I just thought about it today and you never know about the internet nowadays... I'd hate it to get back to someone I knew and all even if it is under an alias. Thank you so much. Hope you are having a great week. Work is already kicking my ass and its only Monday! Geez!