Un-Dateable

by Alice Bello

  I was really impressed he remembered their names.

  “As for Ozzie, I’m afraid this frond just isn’t meant to be. Maybe it’s damaged or has some sort of bug. Either way, since the rest of him looks healthy, it’s better to just amputate the bad frond so it doesn’t spread to the rest of the plant.”

  “Amputate?” I don’t know why, maybe all the rushing around today, or the fact that I didn’t eat yet, but I felt woozy at the word.

  Suddenly he had hold of me and was setting me down in a chair in the back. He’d tucked my head between my legs and had something cold against the back of my neck.

  As I started to come back from the blackness that had enveloped me I thought: just when I thought I was getting things right...

  I leaned up and Gus was squatted down beside me, still holding that cold something to the back of my neck.

  “God, am I embarrassed!” I sat up straighter and felt a fuzzy dizziness.

  “Did you eat anything today? Usually girls forget to eat when they’re going on a date.” I smiled at his intimate knowledge of women, comforted by it.

  “I can’t remember eating anything, so I guess you’re right.”

  He took the cold thing from behind my neck, shook it, and opened the cap, then handed it to me. It was a bottle of orange juice. “Drink this. There’s a hot dog stand on the corner, I’ll be right back.”

  “Really, don’t go to all the trouble. I’m fine now.”

  The look on his face was determined. “I’ll be right back. Don’t get up... and how do you like your dog?”

  I smiled. “Ketchup and relish... thanks.”

  And he was gone.

  I sipped at the juice. It was cold and tasted really good, and I started to feel better. Moments later Gus was back with two dogs. He handed me mine and I saw his had mustard and onions.

  I sat there and ate my dog in silence with Gus. I’d catch him staring at me, but I was sure he was just evaluating my makeup and hair. I wasn’t used to it though. Straight guys ogled pretty girls that were made up nice. Gay guys appraised them.

  I shuddered at the thought that I was suddenly pretty. And all because of makeup and styling products.

  Gus finished his dog first and threw the paper napkin in the trashcan to my left. “They’ll be okay, Ozzie and Harriet. I’ll look after them for a few days. Just come pick them up on Monday afternoon.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  But Gus shook his head. “You’re in no condition to deal with them today. I’ll walk you home and then you can just rest until your ...” He stopped, an uncomfortable look passing over his face. “Until your date.” Then there was a flash of that same cool demeanor again.

  I didn’t want him to have to walk me to my apartment, but as he helped me to my feet I felt wobbly and decided an escort was preferable to falling flat on my ass on the street. So I took Gus’ arm — his rather solid and attractive arm — and let him lead me out of the shop.

  “Which way?”

  I pointed to the left. “Two blocks.”

  Chapter 16

  I was surprised how wobbly I was until about fifty feet from my apartment building. I was leaning heavily on Gus’ strong arm. But then I started feeling better — home base must have powers of rejuvenation for me.

  And though I felt fine, Gus insisted on walking me up to my apartment. I told him there was an elevator, but he insisted, staying by my side until I was safely in my apartment and sitting on my couch. He raided my refrigerator and found milk to go with the peanut butter Cap’n Crunch I had on top of my refrigerator.

  He brought me a bowl, and a glass of the grape juice I’d bought last week and had thus far ignored.

  “You don’t have to do this. I’m fine.”

  “I know... you just scared me when you started passing out. So eat your cereal and drink some juice and I’ll leave you alone.” He put up his hand and made the Boy Scout sign. “I swear.”

  This guy was funny. I hadn’t noticed it when he was pointing out how I was killing my plants, but now he made me smile big-time.

  Such a shame he’s gay. I would’ve dated him in a heartbeat. Maybe I could hook him up with someone from work? I know two doctors, three nurses, and a radiologist that are handsome, single, and total baby dolls.

  I was about to ask him if he was single when he asked me about my impending date.

  “So what’s this guy do? The one that’s got you so nervous you forgot to eat.”

  Another big smile. I shook my head and crunched down on the last bite of my Cap’n Crunch. “He’s a doctor. Really nice and funny... and he’s really something in the bedroom.”

  It felt like I was talking with Bess there for a minute. Gay guys are always so great to talk to about your sex life. But the look on Gus’ face was just not good at all. He faked a smile... and then he said I looked fine and suggested I rest on the couch for a while.

  He stood up and before I could ask him what was wrong he was gone, closing my front door behind him.

  I shook my head in confusion. He asked about my date, so why did he clam up and split like that. Then it hit me: he must be on the rebound. Maybe some guy just dumped him... maybe it was a doctor that was good in bed.

  I’m such a shmuck!

  I leaned back and slipped off my shoes and put my feet up. I wasn’t going to sleep. I was just going to close my eyes for a minute or two. But when I opened my eyes it was dark in my apartment. I reached over and turned on the lamp beside me. This illuminated the clock on the wall. Seven forty-five.

  Shit!

  I jumped up and ran into the bedroom. I brushed my teeth, sprayed some perfume that Mother had bought me at Macy’s. God, did it smell good. I’d date me smelling like this. I swung back into the bedroom and slipped the pair of brown heels on, and then I shucked my t-shirt, pulled my old ugly bra off and put on my new lacy blue one on. It lifted and separated the girls, even made them look a good cup size bigger.

  I flung the pretty gypsy top on over my head and then realized that my hair was messed up. Nothing big or bad, but enough that I knew I couldn’t fix it. I pulled out a hair brush and a band, and without touching the front of my hair I smoothed down the straightened hair in the back and then roped it back into a ponytail with a hair band.

  Now why did my hair never look this good all those times I put it into a ponytail?

  And that’s when a knocking started at the front door.

  I raced out of my bedroom, checking the clock on the wall. Right on time. I was freaking lucky he had the good manners not to come early.

  I swung open the front door and lost all ability to speak. There he was, a tight pair of dark blue jeans, a tight chocolate brown polo shirt stretched across his chest, and his milk chocolate eyes dark and burning through my clothes.

  Bess’ words came back to me. “Don’t just pull him into the apartment and fuck his brains out ...”

  Okay, that should be easy. But then he leaned in and kissed me, and though it was short, I could feel this pull, how my flesh started to heat up. I pulled him in for another kiss, this one deep and torrid.

  Oh god, I thought. We’re never going to make it out of the apartment.

  And we didn’t. I tugged him into the apartment and started pulling his shirt off over his head, loving how his stomach rippled as my fingers pulled up the fabric of his shirt.

  “Maybe we can order in, later?” he panted as I pulled him toward the bedroom.

  “Sounds good.” I had his pants unbuckled, and he had my shirt undone and puddled on the floor, his hands now working on the clasp of my new bra.

  As my bra slipped to the floor he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up in a bear hug, crushing my breasts against his chest as he carried me to the bed.

  I giggled as my legs curled up in flight. He was so damn strong. When he finally set me down on the bed he pulled off my expensive shoes and then started to undo my jeans. That’s when it hit me I hadn’t changed my panties. I had on granny underwear! C
otton, oversized, with little roses and violets on them.

  But luckily Dean wasted no time taking my jeans and panties off separately. He just pulled them down and off together, tossing them to the floor in a jumble.

  Thank god!

  Dean practically jumped out of his jeans, shedding them at the same time. Then he crawled atop me on the bed, dragging his body over mine until his chest smushed against mine, and his cock rubbed wantonly at my sex. I latched my arms around his neck and pulled him into me, our mouths sealed in the most delicious kiss.

  He pulled away from our kiss long enough to open the drawer to the bedside table and retrieve a shiny foil wrapped condom. A tear, some rolling and his cock was shining and ready for action. And he wasted no time, pushing into me and then letting his body weight skewer me as he sank to his balls down into my hungry vagina.

  “Oh, god ...” he gasped as he buried his face into my neck, kissing the flesh like a starving man.

  I wrapped my legs around his hips, and ran my hands down the length of his body. He felt better than he did yesterday. Guess I was too tired to be nervous anymore... must just be enjoying myself. I cupped the flexing orbs of his ass in my hands and he groaned, arching his back and shoving himself into me all the further.

  The way he was kissing me, the way his hips rocked slowly in and out of me, it was winding me up like a freaking yo-yo. I wanted it harder, though I didn’t want the gentle fucking he was giving me to end.

  I pulled myself from his lips, finally, and whispered, “Fuck me harder, Dean. Please.”

  He smiled, a blush radiated across his cheeks, discernable even in the dark.

  He pulled my legs from around his hips and pulled them up under his arms, bringing my legs up in the air until my knees were on either side of my head. I was about to complain I wasn’t Rubber Woman, or Elasta Girl, when he leaned all his weight into me again, and I suddenly knew why he’d grappled me around into a pretzel.

  As his cock jabbed into me I felt myself being split wide open. And I felt his cock butt up against my cervix... which hurt in a really good way. Like a jolt of sexual ecstasy with every downward stroke of his body.

  I didn’t know a dick could go that far inside you.

  I cried out and moaned with lusty abandon as he pounded himself into me, his tempo accelerating, sweat breaking out all over his body, making him shimmer and shine in the dim light from the hallway.

  When I came it felt like the bed was shaking, like the air was two hundred degrees, and the fourth of July was going off in my head.

  I felt him stab desperately in and out of me, and then he pushed in as far and hard as he could, groaning out his climax.

  As he slowly unlatched his arms from under my knees he kissed me again, slow and sweet. When he looked into my eyes I could see something I didn’t recognize. It scared me for an instant until he churned himself in and out of me a few more times, kissing me and biting my lower lips before extricating himself from my grasping canal. He rolled over off me and sprawled beside me on the bed.

  I was about to ask what that look had been when he rolled back over and gently sucked on my nipple, squeezing my breast then running his fingers down my ribs one by one.

  “Better call for that pizza,” he said as he bit playfully at the tender nub of my tit. “Before we start on round two.”

  Round two? My mind did that sexy purr thing... yet my stomach grumbled its objection to anything getting in the way of pizza.

  Dean rolled out of bed and padded barefoot and butt naked through my apartment, his dimpled rump bouncing enticingly. “What’s the best place around here for pizza?”

  “What?” I said, lost in the jiggle of Dean’s perfect booty. “Oh, yeah. Giovanni’s, on sixty-fourth. The number’s by the phone.”

  ~*~

  In the morning, light spilled into my bedroom, illuminating the empty pizza box on the floor, my clothes strewn across the floor from the door to my jeans hanging off the edge of my bed — I could see the tiny flowers of my granny panties. And it illuminated Dean as he slept, his arm draped over me as I snuggled against his smooth skinned chest.

  Now this was heaven!

  “What time is it?” Dean asked groggily as I licked and bit at one of his perfect little nipples.

  I looked up over his shoulder to the alarm clock. “Ten to eleven.”

  He sighed and crushed me to him. “I’ve got a thing across town in an hour. I better hit the shower before we get going again.”

  “We could always have a quickie in the shower ...” I said hopefully.

  He kissed me and I got lost in his lips for a minute. “We did it three times last night and you’re still horny?”

  I stroked his hardening cock between my fingers, squeezing it in my palm. “I’m not the only horny one here.”

  “Okay, you win.” He ground his cock against my pussy. “But I’m pretty sure we could never just do a quickie.”

  I pouted and faked a whimper as he pulled himself away from me and struggled off the bed. He coughed as he stood and his incredible erection bobbed up and down looking entirely too large for his body. Too large for anybody.

  Dean showered and put his clothes back on, finally finding his polo shirt by the front door.

  “Can I come over again tonight?” he asked as he shimmied back into his shirt.

  I weighed how exhausted I was, how much effort would have to go into looking good again, and put having him here on the other side of the scales.

  “Think we’ll make it to the restaurant this time?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Probably not ...” he looked down into my eyes. “I’ll bring Chinese, so don’t bother getting all done up. We’ll be spending most of the evening in your bed anyways.”

  I gulped and could feel the flesh of my cheeks redden.

  He kissed me goodbye — long and potent — and I locked the door behind him. I stretched, contemplated making coffee, and then decided that going back to bed would be the best decision.

  But then he was knocking at my door. I smiled. “Couldn’t wait till tonight?” I flung open the door and Mother stood there looking down the hall, obviously ogling Dean as he waited for the elevator. “My, he has the tightest bottom.”

  I grabbed her and pulled her into my apartment, hoping Dean hadn’t noticed her sizing him up... or that she was standing in front of my apartment.

  “Cripes, Mother... could you be any more obvious?”

  “Of course I could. But it would be tacky to grope the man your own daughter is bedding.” She canted her head and shot me a reproachful glare. “A man that said daughter described to a T, except the part about him being a doctor. A surgeon, no less.”

  “Okay, that’s creepy. How the hell did you know that by just looking at his ass?”

  “Please. I’ve lived in Manhattan for thirty-five years... I know professional men. And don’t change the subject. Why do I have to find these things out for myself?”

  “Well ...” She just stared me down with her arms crossed over her chest. “Truth is I didn’t want you planning the wedding already.”

  “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

  “Sure. But all I had to do was tell you I had a date with that tax attorney... what’s his name?”

  “Miles Jenkins.”

  I tapped my nose. “Exactly. You registered us at Bloomingdale’s, Macy’s, and Bath and Bodyworks.”

  “And you really should’ve been nicer to Miles —”

  I interrupted her as she followed me into my bedroom. I blushed at the state of my rumpled bed. “He was ten years older than me!”

  “But he made partner this year... and believe me, age isn’t everything.”

  I had a sudden image flash in front of my eyes, of Mother with some half-naked young stud covered in smudges of oil paints. I shook my head to try and dislodge it from my skull.

  “He had a comb-over and pulled out a pocket calculator to split the dinner check... and he didn’t leave a tip for
the waitress.” I pulled on my jeans again and pulled out another old t-shirt and headed to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

  Mother’s eyes shot open about the calculator and him not tipping. “Well, that is rather telling.”

  “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “We really need to get you better sheets, dear.” she shot from the bedroom. “These old things are wretched.”

  “Not another trip to Macy’s?” I whined.

  “For sheets? Heavens no. I always go to Bloomingdale’s for bedding and toiletries.”

  I couldn’t wait to see how they ran around for her there.

  ~*~

  Two hours later I stood in front of my bed staring down at the thousand count baby blue sheets Mother had bought me. Those and the satiny soft cotton blanket and the silky bedspread — which I think was real silk. I had to admit my bed looked a lot more appealing now than it had.

  And the fact that I now had this ensemble in red, midnight blue, and black attested to Mother’s thorough nature, and my new willingness to let her spend her rather hefty fortune on me.

  I wasn’t letting her buy me a car or a rich husband... but how could I say no to something like thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets. Martha Stuart eat your heart out!

  I pulled off my jeans and boots and slipped back into bed. The sheets were better than I had imagined. I felt like I was lying on a cloud. I snuggled into my pillow and by the count of three I was out.

  ~*~

  I didn’t want to wake up, but someone was calling both my cell phone and my home phone at the same time. I ignored it as long as I could, which was a while since the sheets had a powerful sedating effect on me.

  But when finally I rolled out of those magnificent sheets I stalked out to the living room and saw that both lines were Bess.

  “How are you calling both numbers?”

  “Back up cell phones, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve been trying to call you all damn day. Where have you been?”

  I stretched and sounded way too satisfied when I said, “Here, in bed.”