Late Night, Awkward Morning

There are few moments quite so awkward as the moment you wake up next to someone and realise the soporific veneer of alcohol has utterly dissipated leaving only hoarse voices, unspoken words and the embarrassed covering up of skin.

So the date with the graphic designer went well.

Let's start from the beginning. The client lunch on Friday began at 1pm and ended at 4:45. The food was amazing (turns out Pan Asian is a good thing) even though I had to dissect an entire sea bass having been shown to be the least squeamish person at the table. The wine was an extremely good Sauvingnon Blanc and several large Baileys were consumed (Christmas law). I arrived back at the office just before 5pm and hid behind my screen trying to do my make up whilst feeling distinctly woozy. I was late for the date but only by 15 minutes and the graphic designer was sitting alone looking gorgeous in a soft blue sweater. Unfortunately the second he stood up to greet me, I realised the heels were a mistake. It transpired later that he's actually 5ft 10.5" which is by no means miniscule, however as mentioned in my last post, I was at least 5ft 11" in my new boots (unattractively and inexplicably named 'Laverne' by the retailer).
I recommenced the white wine and we immediately relaxed into easy conversation during which he me made me laugh lots. No sign of the reticent email-buddy of recent weeks, thankfully.

We got drunk. Oh blimey did we get drunk. My lunch had precipitated a surge in my affection for alcohol (never too far under the surface) and so when we moved bars and he decided to introduce me to dark rum, I thought this was a fantastic idea. Many, many rounds later the shots started and my resolve to be a grown up was trampled by the sheer brute force of my drinking binge.
He kissed me in the bar and despite my obvious intoxication I can categorically state it was the best kiss I've had in a long time. I can still remember it now - I melted (I've been doing a lot of melting lately but this isn't necessarily a bad thing). Fast forward through a whispered conversation, the securing of a cab and the fumbling of keys and light switches. The sex was frantic and obviously drunken but I was still capable of maintaining a good hour which under the circs was impressive (so was he which is much more impressive). The last thing I remember was him spooning me as I passed out.

Which brings us to Saturday morning; 10:35am and we are awoken by the sound of a motorbike starting outside my window. We stumble around trying to find his discarded underwear whilst I desperately try and cover up with my embarrassingly ratty dressing gown (mental note: buy sexy kimono-type robe befitting a single girl).
He was very sweet and left quietly, kissing me briefly on the lips at the front door, promising to email/call me today. I'm honestly not sure I'm bothered because although he was sexy and intelligent and we had a great time, I am disturbed by the fact that we are both capable of being shockingly sluttish. But how typically spoilt of me. I wanted to have sex with him but lost respect for him because he had sex with me so soon. Now, in my overly-active imagination, he is a cad and a bounder (in the traditional sense) and will never be the sort of strong man I ultimately want who will take care of me, resist my advances, kiss me goodbye, put me into a cab and call me the next day to make sure I'm ok. He's out there somewhere and in the meantime, random snogging and sex is turning out to be huge amounts of fun. That's despite the awkward conversations I had to have with my housemates following the event. We are not a house of sluttish types who bring boys home regularly so this was quite an event. I probably overplayed how embarrassed I was in an effort to negate their perception of the filthiness of my behaviour and it seemed to work because after a while we were all giggling about it and I was sharing details over tea and digestives on Saturday afternoon with Radio 4 in the background. Oddly wholesome in contrast to the alcoholic haze of the previous night.

As an aside I've just told Roobs all about it on email and she replied with 'you are truly fabulous'. That remains to be seen but it made me smile nonetheless!