...and then they were thirty-four.
Yesterday we had a party at my place. It was actually not supposed to be anything big, just us girls gathering over a glass of wine or two together, but the Int-guys had asked what we were doing that night. When they heard about our plans they asked if they could come over too, and around eight I had some fifteen people from pretty much every class in school crammed into my living room. Guys from the marine, from the air force, from the army, from Intel and even one from each of the newly arrived cadets. People I hadn't met at all or not spoken to in weeks, and we ended up having a great time.
One of the new intel guys got the eye for me and once we got out to the Bloody Mess he started dancing me up. I fled the field by tagging on to the Red Baron, one of the guys I knew from last term and rocked the dance floor steadily keeping him inbetween me and my groupie.
After a while Intel guy dissapeared (I was later informed that he had tripped completely and was thrown out by the guards when he had peed in a paper cup in one of the corridors) and I could breathe out. Having downed quite the amount of intoxicating beverages I was hardly steady on my feet and took a couple of loops around the place to cool down.
After a couple of laps my cell beeped. It was Red Baron who told me they were closing and told me to come with them in the cab. After having bargained with the late night food guy for some decent pasta we caught a cab. I got in the back and we started rolling back to the village.
Suddenly I felt warm fingers braid with mine. I looked up. Blue eyes met mine. He quietly handed me his cellphone while bantering with our class mate in front.
"My place? Nod or shake your head, depending on your answer."
I was dumbstruck. The guys is clearly handsome. Blonde hair, fair features, firm jaw line, in all one of those I would definitely go for if in a club. Neither can I deny that I had been intrigued by all the insinuations he had been making through the autumn, not to mention during the evening. All the small things started to rush back through my mind. I had poked him in the tummy when he was doing chin-ups and he grunted at me,
"Stop being so close, stop being so touchy-feely. I'm getting a fucking erection." When I laughed at him, "And you think I'm joking."
All night he had been making jokes about how I "shouldn't worry" or "shouldn't try so hard", because yes, we would fuck later, I needn't worry. Apparently the jokes hadn't been so innocent after all.
I didn't find it in me either nod nor shake my head, but I suppose I gave my answer anyway by gripping back and let my fingers softly play with his. I couldn't say it, but I knew I wanted to.
We said good night to our companion when we were back in the village, then we sneaked back to his house (which was empty) and - it was good.
To this story is also another fact which complicates things.
Yes, you guessed it.
He is taken. Big time.
He had an episode last fall where he cheated and made out with this "cougar" at this party. He had confessed to his girlfriend and they had almost broken up about it. I don't know what he'll do about this.
Yet I can't say I regret it.
I have always had this peculiar sense of moral, from a social norm perspective. I would never, ever - EVER - cheat on my boyfriend, ever - yet I have no problem at all about being on the other side. In fact, that has happened more than once. I am the other woman, the mistress, the damned-to-resist temptress.
I know should feel bad about making him cheat on his girl - but I don't.
Because after all, I can't be his conscious. He is an adult, presumably able to make his own decisions. If he wants to cheat on his girl, he will. I reminded him of his status and he replied that it didn't matter.
"Are you sure about this, sir?"
"Yes, I diddely-am!"
Conscious decision. My duty done, and boy, was I all for it. He told me as he lead me into his apartment and towards the door to his bedroom.
"Just you, and me, and I think it'll be good."
And what did I think?
I just sent a grateful thought that I had taken my Victoria's Secret panties that morning.
Yesterday we had a party at my place. It was actually not supposed to be anything big, just us girls gathering over a glass of wine or two together, but the Int-guys had asked what we were doing that night. When they heard about our plans they asked if they could come over too, and around eight I had some fifteen people from pretty much every class in school crammed into my living room. Guys from the marine, from the air force, from the army, from Intel and even one from each of the newly arrived cadets. People I hadn't met at all or not spoken to in weeks, and we ended up having a great time.
One of the new intel guys got the eye for me and once we got out to the Bloody Mess he started dancing me up. I fled the field by tagging on to the Red Baron, one of the guys I knew from last term and rocked the dance floor steadily keeping him inbetween me and my groupie.
After a while Intel guy dissapeared (I was later informed that he had tripped completely and was thrown out by the guards when he had peed in a paper cup in one of the corridors) and I could breathe out. Having downed quite the amount of intoxicating beverages I was hardly steady on my feet and took a couple of loops around the place to cool down.
After a couple of laps my cell beeped. It was Red Baron who told me they were closing and told me to come with them in the cab. After having bargained with the late night food guy for some decent pasta we caught a cab. I got in the back and we started rolling back to the village.
Suddenly I felt warm fingers braid with mine. I looked up. Blue eyes met mine. He quietly handed me his cellphone while bantering with our class mate in front.
"My place? Nod or shake your head, depending on your answer."
I was dumbstruck. The guys is clearly handsome. Blonde hair, fair features, firm jaw line, in all one of those I would definitely go for if in a club. Neither can I deny that I had been intrigued by all the insinuations he had been making through the autumn, not to mention during the evening. All the small things started to rush back through my mind. I had poked him in the tummy when he was doing chin-ups and he grunted at me,
"Stop being so close, stop being so touchy-feely. I'm getting a fucking erection." When I laughed at him, "And you think I'm joking."
All night he had been making jokes about how I "shouldn't worry" or "shouldn't try so hard", because yes, we would fuck later, I needn't worry. Apparently the jokes hadn't been so innocent after all.
I didn't find it in me either nod nor shake my head, but I suppose I gave my answer anyway by gripping back and let my fingers softly play with his. I couldn't say it, but I knew I wanted to.
We said good night to our companion when we were back in the village, then we sneaked back to his house (which was empty) and - it was good.
To this story is also another fact which complicates things.
Yes, you guessed it.
He is taken. Big time.
He had an episode last fall where he cheated and made out with this "cougar" at this party. He had confessed to his girlfriend and they had almost broken up about it. I don't know what he'll do about this.
Yet I can't say I regret it.
I have always had this peculiar sense of moral, from a social norm perspective. I would never, ever - EVER - cheat on my boyfriend, ever - yet I have no problem at all about being on the other side. In fact, that has happened more than once. I am the other woman, the mistress, the damned-to-resist temptress.
I know should feel bad about making him cheat on his girl - but I don't.
Because after all, I can't be his conscious. He is an adult, presumably able to make his own decisions. If he wants to cheat on his girl, he will. I reminded him of his status and he replied that it didn't matter.
"Are you sure about this, sir?"
"Yes, I diddely-am!"
Conscious decision. My duty done, and boy, was I all for it. He told me as he lead me into his apartment and towards the door to his bedroom.
"Just you, and me, and I think it'll be good."
And what did I think?
I just sent a grateful thought that I had taken my Victoria's Secret panties that morning.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
The ethical problem comes in rewarding that behavior. The better it is to be that guy, the more guys become like him. (Also, there's no reason to think he wouldn't do the exact same thing to you, though whether you get seriously involved with him or not is beside the point.) Now, if you don't particularly care about monogamy, that may not be an issue for you. But based on what you said above, it seems you do.