Confessions

I did it. I told The Rocker about WCC...

I had been asking The Trusted all week about what I should do about The Rocker. Here was a guy I actually liked. Really liked. The impossible had happened. Just 3 short months ago I was talking to The Street Artist about how it would be impossible for Carrie to fall in love. Yet here I was, only a few dates in and I've been reduced into a silly doe eyed girl.

I needed to tell him. I wanted to tell him. But I couldn't figure out if it was the right thing to do. I mean, The Creeper completely freaked when I shared it with him. To this day Partyboy has been scouring the pages of Blogspot trying to find it. Thank goodness that boy isn't all that bright. If he ever found this he would hate me for sure.




I didn't want The Rocker to hate me. I needed to figure out a way to share it with him without actually..well...sharing. I spent the entire weekend running different speeches through my head. In the end, The Rocker took the decision away from me.



He called me Sunday night once he got home from Vegas. It had took him 10 hours to get home and he was not in the best of moods. I wasn't planning on telling him. Honestly I had been hoping to tell him in person. I hoped that my sexual presence would help soften the blow. But we got to talking and he asked me what I had been doing all day.



"Writing." I responded.



"Oh yeah. You write. And what exactly do you write about," he asks me.



"My life," I reply.



"Have you written about me," he asks, not realizing he was hitting the damn nail on the head.



"Yes, that's what I was working on today. I've been writing about our last date."



"So what exactly do you do with the stuff you write," he finally asks.

Crap! This is it. I have to tell him. I don't want to lie. I don't want to avoid his question and omit. I have to say it.

"Well, I eventually want to make it into a book, but for now I'm sort of..." here I go..." blogging out the pages and allowing my fans to help shape the stories."


 It's done. No going back now. I hear silence on the other end of the phone. Shit.



"Ok," he finally says. "So you write about the people you date?"



"Yes, but everyone is anonymous. Even myself. That's why I told you that my name was Carrie when we first met. That's my characters name. No one knows who you are or who my friends are..." Ugh. I'm over explaining. This isn't going the way I planned.



"Ok," he says again.


 He's repeating himself, this can't be good.



"Look," I tell him. "I'd love for you to read it. It's not what you think. When I see you next, I'll show it to you."



"I don't think I can wait that long. I've got to see this for myself," he says to me.



"No," I tell him. "Not yet please! Promise me you won't read it?"



"Ok, I won't," he tells me. I can hear the strain in his voice. He's tired and stressed and frustrated from his weekend and here I am dropping the WCC bomb on him. What the hell is wrong with me?!



"Look, I need to take a shower and get ready for work tomorrow. Can I call you later? Would that be ok? Or is it to late?" he asks me.



Part of me wants to say no. I know he's not happy with me and I'm terrified that I won't hear from him again. But I know he's on overload right now. I need to leave him be. Let him 'absorb' what I just told him and give him a chance to separate this new anxiety from his shitty weekend.



"Ok. It won't be too late. Just call me back ok?" I say. I know how desperate I sound, but I can't help myself.



Needless to say, I didn't hear from him again that night. I didn't try to call. He needed space and sleep so I intended on giving it to him.



I was off the next day. I send him a text first thing in the morning.



"I hope you have a better day today than you did yesterday. Hopefully you got some sleep."



He doesn't respond. The entire day goes by with silence. It was torture. My sense of dread was overpowering. He was freaked. Like an idiot, I blurbed out my secret and he couldn't handle it. Didn't want to deal with it. He hates me.



Ok, I know I'm being a little irrational. I mean The Rocker and I have a real connection. He wouldn't, couldn't just not talk to me again right? I mean that boy is just like me. So what would I do in this situation? Well, even if I didn't want to deal with the other person anymore, I would still call. Atleast once. To say goodbye.



Great. Now I feel worse.



Finally 6pm rolls around. I know that's the normal time he gets off work. I call him. It goes straight to voicemail.



"Hey its me," I begin, hoping I don't sound as pathetic as I feel. "I was just calling to make sure you didn't go off on anyone at work today." (insert manic giggle) "Give me a call when you get a chance. Bye."



Ok, done. I called, now drop it.



But I can't. 10pm rolls around. We have never gone this long without speaking to each other! I mean atleast a text. Now I'm freaked. Could this be it? Did I really find my Cool Rider just to lose him because of Carrie? How awful would that be? I mean WCC was my savior. She is who and what helped me get through the last few months with my sanity in tact. She helped me work through the pain of my last breakup and she's the one who helped me tolerate the trials and tribulations of dating life. How awful would it be for her to also be the reason I lose the one man that I could actually care about?



At around 11pm, my phone finally rings. It's The Rocker.




"Hello?!" I say, not caring that I sound like a worried mother.





"Hi, how are you?" he responds.






Yep. I'm in trouble. I can feel his distance. This is bad.



"Well, not so great. I was a little worried you wouldn't call me back," I finally say.



"Yeah, sorry about that. I actually just got off of work about an hour ago," he starts off slowly. "And honestly I've been sort of tripping out on the whole blog thing. I wasn't sure if I was going to call you back either"



Shit. I hate being right. Part of me was hoping I was being paranoid all day. That he was simply busy at work and still tired and stressed from the weekend and didn't have any time to get back to me. I should have known better. I'm West Coast Carrie. Knowing what people are feeling and what they will do next is my specialty. I pay attention. I take note. I predict and I'm usually right. This time around, I wish I hadn't been.



"I know. I'm so sorry for just springing it on you like that. I was hoping to tell you in person," I tell him.



I can barely breath. This is it, I just know it. He's going to tell me he doesn't want to speak to me anymore. I can feel it. I know it, I know it. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest. I can barely breath! It happened. I found my Cool Rider and in under two weeks I lost him. Unfucking believable.



What now? I guess I keep trucking along just like I have been. Keep dating, keep writing, stay single. I mean, have you ever heard of a married Super Hero? Me either. This is the way its supposed to be. Single and free that's me. That's my destiny. I need to let this one go.



This calms me a bit. I still feel like something crawled into my chest to die, but I'm aware of it and I'm dealing. All I can do now is get through this conversation without holding back. I need to say anything and everything that comes to mind and then move on and try to heal from the latest and greatest disappointment in my life.




"Yeah, look. I have questions," he tells me coldly. "So this blog. What is it exactly? I mean what are you writing? What are your intentions? Is it about you?"




I begin to speak without thinking. I can't remember exactly what I said anymore. I mean I was so upset. But it was something along the lines of the following...



"How it started and what it's become are two different things. I mean at first it was just about dating. It was about the guys I met and what I thought of them at the time. I was just coming out of a bad break up and it was a way for me to heal. I was cold and distant and didn't really give a shit, and I wrote it that way. But then something happened," I pause for a moment thinking it out.



"Well two things happened actually. For one the fans started to really love the friends that I wrote about. They started to get invested in Carrie's life, not just the boys. So I started writing about that. And the more I did the more I started to love my life and my friends and ME more. Before I knew it I wasn't writing what 'I' was feeling and thinking as much as letting 'Carrie' write about what she thought. Because I'm not WCC. Not anymore. There's me and there's her. The events I write about are all true but what I say I think and feel about them aren't always in line with who I am. I allow Carrie to insert her inner monologue."


"So you just go out and stuff so you have fodder for your stories?" The Rocker asks me.



The dying animal in my chest twitches a bit. But I keep going. If this is the last time I speak to him I'm going to make sure I say everything that I need to.



"Not necessarily," I say. "Most of the time I'm just living my life and then I write about it. I'm a real person. These are real experiences. I mean if anything, I will admit that if it wasn't for WCC I wouldn't be dating at all. I've been ok being on my own. I feel good just being me and hanging with my LA family. I keep dating for the fans, but the experiences and what I put into it are real. I'm real. I live. I feel. I write. That's it."



I've finished my rant. I don't know what else to say. This is it. I can't breath. The Rocker is silent for a long time. I stay quiet as well. The ball is in his court and I resign myself to go with whatever he decides.



In my head I think, "I would give it up. I would give up WCC. For you." I mean, why would I choose writing over him? Isn't that the point of WCC? Isn't that why I started all of this? Aren't I supposed to be "Braving the LA dating scene to help her readers avoid the dicks and shits of the opposite sex"?



I think I've mixed up my own purpose. I haven't been true to my word. I lied to you dear reader. I haven't been avoiding the dicks and shits. I've been dating every single one that I find. I haven't been very helpful at all.



And now I found what I've truly been looking for. I've found a Cool Rider. In LA. Its unbelievable. And now I'm fucking it up.



I hear The Rocker take a deep breath. This is it.



"This is crazy," he starts off. "I mean before I left to Vegas, and the entire weekend I've been on cloud fucking nine. I was so excited about you and us. I was missing you so much. I even came close to asking you to come out and stay with me Saturday night. But then you told me about this blog shit and it all came crashing down... But as low as I felt all day, the opposite just happened. I don't know how you fucking did it but you just flipped it on me again. You said what I needed to hear and unbelievably I feel better."



I'm stunned! I'm not sure what to say. I'm not sure what he just said. I mean it sounds like all of a sudden he feels better about the situation, but its all just to good to be true! I won't allow myself to believe it until I make sure.



"Wait, so we're ok?" I ask tentatively.



"Yeah," he says. "But now there is something that I need to tell you. I broke a promise to you, and now after this I feel like shit about it."



My blood runs cold. What promise? Why does he sound so grave? I mean we haven't known each other long enough for him to be able to do something so bad that it could hurt me...Right? I mean did he like sleep with another chick or something? Would that bother me? No, not really. I mean we're just dating and he's free to do whatever he wants. I could move pass that no problem. So what else could it be?



Then he said it.




"I read your blog."



My face goes blank. My mind goes blank. He read it? My blog? Which one? Oh god...



"What do you mean you read it?" I begin. "How?"



"Well, I typed in the words Mr. Boston, The Rocker and Carrie and I found it," he says.



Yep. This boy is a bright one. I had mentioned that I called my roommate Mr Boston only once. I had called him The Rocker a few times as well, and I had first introduced myself as Carrie. Shit.



"I'm sorry. I was upset last night so I went online and had to find it," he says, mistaking my silence for anger.



"Oh my god seriously?!" I respond.



I feel like someone just read my diary. This has never happened before! I've never had someone who I was dating and still interested in read my work. My face goes completely red.



"Which one did you read?" I ask him, not really wanting to hear the answer.



"Um, just the ones that mentioned me. The Rocker, Boomerang and what was it called...oh yeah, Nip Tuck."



The last title makes my blood run cold again. He read Nip Tuck! Just shoot me in the fucking face why don't you?! Oh god seriously? Its been months of pure innocence between Partyboy and I and the one time I decide to be a mischievous little asshole The Rocker reads it! It's official. God hates me.



"You didn't," I squeal at him. " Oh god, please let me explain...Look, I was going to tell you about the whole Partyboy thing. It's just you and I have only been on a couple of dates and..."



"It's ok," he interrupts me. "Look it's fine. We both had relationships before we met each other, I know that. It's not a big deal. I mean, I kind of felt like something was up the other night. But I couldn't figure out what. But its not a big deal. Its funny, I read what you wrote about me and honestly I couldn't find anything wrong with it. I mean you write me very flatteringly. And I have to say your fucking memory is insane! You don't write everything but the way you pick out the highlights of the night is really impressive."



I start to breath a little. He doesn't sound upset. He sounds honest and ok. But I still can't believe that the worse is over.



Then I realized something. He had been testing me. He already knew what my blog was all about before he had asked me. He had been drilling me to see if I would lie.



"Wait, so if you already knew what my blog was about why did you ask me?" I ask anyways.



"Sorry about that. I feel like a total dick about it now. Its just that yesterday I was really upset about the whole thing and I couldn't figure out why. But now I know what it is. You made me feel like what you and I had was fake. Like it was all an act so that you would have something to write for your blog. I almost didn't call you back. But then you sent that message this moring saying how you hoped I was having a good day and I was like, 'Maybe she is real. Maybe she is nice. Maybe this isn't fake.' I figured the least I could do was call you and get some answers to my questions. I didn't think we would be ok. But we are. Better than ok actually. Again I don't know how you managed it but I'm good. I guess I didn't expect you to be so honest and forth coming about it all. But you were. I shouldn't have expected anything less from you. But I did and I'm sorry"



Wow. Like I said, I'm not sure exactly what I said but he's right. I was honest. I laid it out for him. Not because I was hoping he would keep seeing me. I had thought the chances of that happening were gone so not once did I answer him in a way that could be mistaken as defending myself or WCC. I answered honestly because that's who I am. I'm me all the time. I'm honest to a fault and it was hard keeping this from him. Because I cared. WCC actually gave a shit about this guy.



"Look, I wanted to tell you in another way, but it just sort of happened last night," I say. "I wanted to tell you in person but you asked and I wanted to tell you sooner rather than later."



"No, I get it," he says. "I mean what were you supposed to do? Have me sign a waiver the first time we met at your doorstep."



I laugh a little. Not much. I was so sure that we were done. I know he's telling me not to worry. We're making jokes and still talking. But I could tell how upset he was earlier. I find it hard to believe that he would be able to just let this go. I mean I think he believes he can, but I don't know him well enough to have faith that he won't wake up and change his mind.



We chit chat a bit more about the blog and what I wrote. He gives me a few more compliments about my writing style. He tells me how engaging it is and funny. I laugh along the whole time still filled with anxiety.



"So are you feeling better now," he asks me after a bit.



"No," I tell him. "I'm pretty traumatized actually."



"Why," he asks sounding genuinely concerned.



"I just thought this was it. It's hard to let go of that feeling," I say.



"Look, again, I'm so sorry for putting you through this. But I mean it. I'm good. We're good. I feel the same if not better about us and you. So don't be upset ok?" He tells me.



This makes me feel a bit better. But not much.



"Ok, you need to come over soon. I need to be held. Badly," I tell him.



He laughs and agrees. We finally hang up.




I did it. I told him my secret and we made it through. I can't believe it.



And we're ok. We've seen each other almost everyday since I told him who I was. And its been wonderful.



It happened. I told him and I'm still here. I'm still writing. I didn't loose him and you didn't loose me.



But now I know how to handle myself in the future. Going forward WCC stays in the dark. Underground. Where she belongs and where only you can find her dear reader.

This Super Hero has learned her lesson. I need to protect her and me. I need to keep writing. Keep helping. Keep entertaining. Stay secret and present and utterly anonymous.

The Rocker knows. Who I am and what I think of him. He knows he's my Cool Rider. I hope he's ready for the ride. I know I am.

Move over Rocker, because Carrie likes to drive.

WCC

Boomerang

So my friends are at war over 'The Rocker' situation.

 Hippie Chick doesn't want me to get too attached just yet. She wants me to stay single and play the field. Henny on the other hand? She loves the guy and wants me to go for it. As for me, well, we all know my opinions can't be trusted.

The next few days after my date with The Rocker I'm on cloud freaking nine. I had such a good time with him! He was sweet and funny and sexy and considerate. The Banter is still easy and free.

The other day he text me, "Kiss. Kiss. Kiss."

Being the ass that I am I replied, "Are you actually kissing your phone as you do that?"

Being the smart ass he is he replied, "No...Merely dry humping it..."

The guy doesn't play games. He texts me constantly. If he wants to send me a random compliment throughout the day...he does.

The other night I decided to look up his band. If he was going to audition for the band Hippie Chick manages I wanted to make sure he didn't suck. HC, HB and Mr. Boston were all in the kitchen hanging out. I went into the living room and sat down at Homeless Boyfriends desk. He has better speakers than me and a huge screen. I typed The Rockers band name into the search bar and got a ton of hits. Impressive. But not nearly as impressive as what I heard when I pushed play. The. Man. Can. Sing! I mean really sing. His tone and range is amazing! The band has sort of a classic rock, funk sound to them. His voice is an absolute dream.

"Hippie Chick!" I yell over to the crew in the kitchen. "You have to come in here and listen to this, now!"

She comes over and I start the track over. Her mouth drops open. "I am totally floored right now!" She says. "No way that's him!"

"Oh its him," I tell her. "Look, there's video here to."

I click over to some footage of them playing at The Cat Club. The man has stage presence! I'm dying! Swooning. I have a stupid dreamy look on my face that I can't shake...and honestly I don't care. I'm so glad that the first time I got to hear him was without him present. If I had been at the club that night they probably would've had to rip me off the guys leg.

"Seriously, I never would have thought he would be able to perform like this," Hippie Chick says. "I mean I don't get the front man vibe from him at all. He was so cool."

"I know," I agree with her. "Not once the other night did he pull out the, 'I'm a rockstar' card. I mean the guy has talent and he never tried to cash in on it with me."

"Yeah, he didn't give off the arrogant attitude you would expect from a guy who performs like this." Hippie Chick says, as she walks back to the kitchen to grab the boys so that they can listen to.

I pull out my phone and shoot him a text. "Seriously?! You hung out with me for like 12 hours and not once did you tell me how freaking good you are?...we just listened to a few tracks and um yeah. Hot."

He takes a few minutes to respond. Meanwhile I continue through his Youtube videos. The boys come in and listen for a while but than return to the kitchen and leave me to my online stalking.

I text again, "Yeah. Still listening. I'm totally floored right now....and now I'm stalking. I just found video. Your sooo not gonna live this one down lol..."

"Aw, you are melting me. Too kind," he finally responds. "Tho...Man...I can only imagine what you're finding...There's some bootlegged badness out there. Plus poorly edited shirtless garbage. Which is what I can only assume you are talking about."

"What?!," I exclaim. "Shirtless!? No, I didn't find those yet but thanks for the tip!"

I liked the guy (alot) before I heard his voice. But now? I'm head over heels. I couldn't wait to see him again! Luckily I didn't have to wait long. We chose Thursday night for our second date. The Rocker was leaving to Vegas Friday morning so he was squeezing me in before he left.

"What do you want to do? Dinner?" he texts me, making plans as usual.

 Dinner doesn't sound appealing to me. I mean, I loved our first date. It was amazing. But there's something about dinners that make you feel like you need to be "on" all the time. I wanted to do something more social and fun. I call up Hippie Chick for ideas.

"The Roller Rink!" she tells me. We live one block from a roller rink. I have yet to check the place out. I get online to see what the haps are on a Thursday night. Perfect! It's R&B, and Oldies night. 25 and over.

"Do you roller skate?" I send him.

"Like a pro! No, but I do roller skate." He replies. This guy rocks.

"Well there's a rink by my house. I think its R&B and oldies Thursday night."

"Awesome!" He replies, genuinely excited. "Sounds great....Do you own roller skates?"

"No," I tell him. "It's been a while and I'm painfully clumsy so this should be interesting..."

"Don't worry. I will protect you on skates tomorrow. I'm like a swan on wheels," he says.

"You just called yourself I swan," I text him, being an ass. "Lesson number one, don't call yourself a swan..."

The Rocker and I had made a few jokes about him not knowing how to act around an attractive women a few days before. He had asked if I could teach him.

"Ok...Making my list:
1.)don't ask a woman if she wants dessert like a creeper.
2.)don't hum here comes the bride.
3.)don't call yourself a swan." he sends. I'm dying!

There is a part of me that hesitates with most men when it comes to my sarcasm. But with The Rocker I have no need for a filter. He takes everything in stride and more often than not shoots the shit right back at me.

"No, here comes the bride was awesome," I say letting him off the hook. "I plan on telling that story for years to come..."

Ok, not totally off the hook. That shit was funny!

"Fantastic...Arghhhhh..." he replies.

"Lol. Don't stress. It was funny. I like funny." I say.

I don't want him to be embarrassed. I loved it. It made me laugh. He makes me laugh. I like him. At this point the boy can do no wrong in my eyes.

"How could I stress?" He asks. "Honestly, I'm a little euphoric since Sunday. A little awestruck."

"Lol, ok are you being sarcastic?" I ask him, already knowing the answer.

"No. Not at all," he says. "Your great, and such a normal person! Hehe...that normal part was a joke, in the vain of the mildly attractive. I'm so awestruck that I'm just trying not to name the puppy so I put you back in my phone as Carrie. Cute little online stalker Carrie."

I laughed at this. When I'd first met The Rocker I told him my name was Carrie. After The Highlander I thought it would be safer if I used my Pen name for my online dating research. It was working out fine until I called him up exhausted one day and forgot to use my fake name when I left him a message. He called me back and the jig was up. I also told him how I never called the boys I dated by their real names. I used to make up nick names for boys long before WCC ever came to be. They said it best in the movie, The Sweetest Thing. Never name the puppy. If you name the puppy, you get attached to it and it's harder to give it up.

"Lol," I respond. "Just so you know, I've been calling you by your Actual name all week."

It's true. I've tried to call him, 'The Rocker', but it doesn't flow. There has been times in the past where I called a guy by his nickname so often that I've actually forgotten what his real name was. I had to put real names and nick names in my phone so that I wouldn't forget. But I couldn't do it with The Rocker. I use his name. If he's a puppy than I want that boy to be mine.

"That means I'm yours," He responds mirroring my thoughts.

You got that right bud.

Thursday night couldn't come soon enough. I dug through my closet trying to find the perfect roller skate out fit. I decided on a pair of dark high waisted bell bottom jeans with rainbow stitch on the pockets. I own a vintage powder blue v-neck tshirt with the word Splash across the front. I threw on my Members Only navy bomber jacket and my retro look was complete.

The Rocker had the same idea. He shows up in a white vintage tshirt with an Opus smiley face on the front. He is wearing a grey cable knit cardigan over it. No one was home at The Plex when he showed up so we took the opportunity to linger alone for a while. We decided to get on the computer so that he could share more of his music with me. He played me a few unpublished tracks from his email. It took everything I had to keep a straight face during this. Jumping on top of him at this moment seemed a little premature.

Hippie Chick and Homeless Boyfriend walk in after a few. Everyone shakes hands and we talk a little about The Rockers upcoming audition with HC's band. HC and HB head back into their room after a bit but not before Hippie Chick points out our matching attire.

"I love how you both are totally 70's out right now," she says smiling.

The second she says this The Rocker and I start dancing in our seats. It looks like we had it planned out. Hippie Chick tells me how hilarious it was the next day.

"That's normally the type of shit you see couples do after they've been together for a while. It's funny how in tune you two are already," she says to me.

It's getting late so we finally head off to the Roller Rink. It's raining out, so he pulls up as close to the door as possible. He turns off the car and looks at me. The scene is awesome. It's dark outside, the rain is falling on the roof of the car and blocking out our view out the window. He leans in and gives me our first kiss of the evening. Right before he touches my lips he says, "Your beautiful."

I know. Gay. But it's ok. I like it.

We pull away and head out into the rain. The Rink is located under ground. There's a set of stairs under the bowling Alley that leads to it. We get inside and see that there are double doors blocking the entrance. Apparently you have to pay and show your ID's before they will 'buzz' you in. Classic. The Rocker pays the fee and in we go. We head over and grab a couple pairs of skates and head over to the rink.

The whole place is an awesome blast from the past. The DJ is spinning some awesome tunes. There's a disco ball above what looks like a roller lounge in the middle of the rink. The walls have huge pictures of rollar skates with wings on them and an occasional rainbow colored Saturn. The crowd looks like they showed up in costume, but I know better. These people were here because they were the theme, not the other way around.

The Rocker and I are the only non-black skaters in the rink. I look over at him to see his reaction to this. I mean, I'm Puerto Rican, Mexican and Native American. I pretty much can fit in anywhere. For him, well he just looks like a cute white boy. To my pleasant surprise he is perfectly at ease. We get out onto the rink and he is just cruising. He is singing along to the oldies and socializing with the passerby's. The boy has soul.

It takes me a bit to get my roller feet back but I finally manage. I begin to jet ahead, enjoying the freedom only roller skates can bring. He cruises up next to me and says,"You totally look like Olivia Newton John right now."

I laugh. We're having a great time. The scene is a trip. There's this whole Roller skating sub culture that I had no idea existed. We pull off into the center 'lounge' to rest. Once inside I notice 3 older black men doing what looks like a freaking Whispers routine in the center. They are popping and rolling together creating a perfectly smooth funky dance. I think I sat there for 30 minutes watching them. Meanwhile we see a 30 something year old Mexican dude pull in. He has his hair pulled back into a ponytail and has a dark goatee on is chin. You can see tattoos on his forearms and at the base of his neck.

"Check out this Vato Loco dude," I say to The Rocker.

Vato pulls in and begins to dance a routine of his own. He starts spinning and leaping like he's on ice skates. Its the funniest shit ever! The man is popping up on his toes and spinning and actually does a pirouette!

I'm not sure how long we stayed out. A few hours maybe? Midnight rolls around and I tell The Rocker I'm ready to go. Not because I'm tired. I just want to make sure I get some quality make out time with my new Boo.

We head back out into the rain and drive back to The Plex. Everyone is in their rooms when we get back so I lead The Rocker to mine and shut the door. We both lay on the bed and I pull out a few of my photo albums to look through. That lasts about 5 whole minutes before he shoves them aside and pulls me into his arms.

We are locked in each others embrace for the next 2 and a half hours. Let me tell you, it was hot. If or when I decide to ever have sex with this guy, it is going to be off the hook. He's just so sensual! Not that I let him go very far. He remained as much of a gentleman as he could. No crotch grabbing for either one of us.

"This is seriously the longest I've ever made out with someone," he says to me. "Damn your a fucken good kisser..."

I hear this alot. I guess most people would have done the deed after the first 5 minutes of heavy petting. Not me. I enjoy this part. I love the making out and the wanting but not having. I'm not ready for sex so there is no temptation for me. I'm not holding back, I'm doing exactly what I want to at the moment. And I'm good at it. I've never had a guy tire of me. It's either the time or myself that has to pull the guy off of me and tell him makeout time is over.

I held it together pretty well as usual. That is up until he dropped the hot bomb on me.

We were spooning on the bed together. The Rocker was kissing along the back of my neck. We are both breathing heavily from the extended excitement. That's when he said it. Now, keep in mind people. It sort of takes a lot to get me off. I mean, like Hippie Chick says. I am the queen of self restraint. But his next sentence rocks my freaking celibate world.

"One of these days, I am going to fuck the shit out of you..." he breathes into me.

Say what?

Hot. That was...Hot.

 Oh my freaking god were those words hot!

I feel a shot of heat push through my whole body. I mean where do I even begin? First there is what he was doing when he said it...Breathing heavily into the back of my neck, arms wrapped around me, pelvis pushed into my ass. Second there's the way he said it. With such conviction. With such dominance. It was very clear that this is something that would be happening. And I believed him.

I've never been like this before. I'm West Coast Fucking Carrie for goodness sakes! I always keep my head. I'm always in charge. If not of the man, at the very least of my own feelings.

But this boys got me twisted. He's marked his territory. He's trained his homing pigeon. He's peed on my leg and now I know I belong to him.

He finally went home at around 2am. I don't know how I am going to be able to handle 3 whole days away from him? I'm obsessed.

Now I'm left with a dilemma. Do I tell him who I am? I want to. I don't want to hide anything from this guy. I don't want things to get serious and have him freak out if he finds out that I've been sharing our whole relationship with the masses.

I mean I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong. I write about what people do to me, not what I do to them. The point of WCC is for me to be able to express myself completely and unfiltered without the consequences of my regular life. I say here what I can't say to the faces of the people who have done me wrong...or right.

I'm afraid. I don't want to scare him away. Part of me wants to keep hiding this so that I don't loose what could potentially be there between the two of us.

No. I have to tell him. It's the right thing to do. He deserves the choice. And I deserve someone who can care about all of me...that includes my bad ass alter ego, Carrie.

Don't worry dear reader. I'm still here. You won't loose Carrie. As long as Carrie doesn't loose him.

Who would have thought someone would have pulled a boomerang on my ass? Guess I finally met my match.

I've found my Cool Rider. Let's hope I can hold on.

WCC

The Rocker

Who would've thought I'd be kicking it with Partyboy on my first date with The Rocker? I swear this kind of shit only happens to me...

Word of what happened between Partyboy and I spread quickly.  It was all anyone could talk about at a house party the crew were at the next day. I had already given Hippie Chick the scoop so she was up to speed with what happened before she heard PB's side. He basically said the same thing to the Hipster crew at the party. Basically.

He told them that he went into my room, I started caressing him, one thing led to another and then he left. He failed to mention the part where I kicked him out.

My friends weren't buying his whole, "She was trying to seduce me while I was drunk and there was nothing I could do, I have a girlfriend,
 it wasn't my idea," routine.


"Then why would you go into her room?" Homeless Boyfriend asked him.



He had no response for that one.


"Stop fucking around with my roommate!" Hippie Chick yells at him.


The entire party was rolling their eyes in unison at Partyboy. I mean, who was he kidding? These were my friends. Hell, these were my family. They know who I am and they know that I'm not, "That Girl". They also know that he is absolutely, "That Guy".


I finally responded to his last apology text to me.


All I said was, "Always cool. Never awkward."



I meant it. I felt fine. Anything I had felt for Partyboy before is now totally gone. It feels good. I can finally be his friend comfortably. I'm actually really happy the other night happened. I'm over the hump and ready to move on. And just in time too. Now enter the latest and greatest man of the online dating world...The Rocker.


I've been texting back and forth with The Rocker for about a week now. We've only spoken on the phone once. I like him. He was funny and easy-going. We spent most of our time talking about the dramas of online dating. He kept telling me how surprised he was at how "normal" I seemed. Ha. Little does he know, right?


I finally accepted his invite to dinner via text while at a house party in The Valley. Mr. Boston, Hippie Chick, Homeless Boyfriend, Feathers and I all rolled out to celebrate the birthday of one of Miley Cyrus's band members. I know, random right? On the way there, we were all placing bets on whether or not she would be there. She was. I wasn't impressed. Her extensions are more than a little silly. I mean is it really necessary to have mermaid length hair? Come on now?


My little group stuck out like a sore thumb as usual. Young musicians and a ton of "Somebodies" surrounded us. Everyone one of them wondering who the hell we were. "Are you guys in a band?," the crowd kept asking all night. "Nope," we would reply coyly. Let them wonder. We didn't give a shit. Hippie Chick and I were getting compliments all night, " I love your feather earring...I love your hair...did you get that necklace at Wasteland?'' Hilarious. I think it's our high level of comfort and confidence in any situation that makes people wonder who we are. As long as The Plex Force is together, we don't really care about anybody else.


The Rocker text me during my Valley good time.

"So, I'm a bit of a romantic and want to be able to sweep you off your feet,"he sends me. "So, if you pick the cuisine, I can pick the place. Here are your choices,
1.) Mexican
2.) Meaty Tapas
3.) Sushi
4.) Italian
5.) Chinese
Disclaimer: All of these venues have really cool atmospheres with a fusion feel to them."


I show Feathers and Hippie Chick his message. "Ahhhhh," they both say, followed by,"Sushi."

"Agreed," I say, shooting the reply to The Rocker.

The next day it's raining cats and dogs. Not the greatest weather to plan out a super hot first date wardrobe. I decide not to try too hard and just do me. I pick out a pair of black cotton jeggings, knee high leather boots, a rocker t-shirt with my Volcom green army jacket that has a grey cotton hood attached. The sleeves are rolled up on the jacket, so I throw on my dark grey elbow length fingerless gloves with a couple of rings. I pop my feather earring in my ear and I'm red-to-go.


Just as I'm about to shoot a text over to check on The Rocker's status, I get a phone call from Partyboy.

"Hey you," he says. This is his habitual greeting to me. It makes me wonder if he occasionally forgets my name. "I left my charger over there the other day, do you mind if Snapshot and I come by The Plex to pick it up?"

Funny. He's hanging out with Snapshot now? This guy really is a professional Party Chaser.



"Well, Hippie Chick and Homeless Boyfriend aren't here and I'm leaving at eight so as long as you're here before then," I respond.



I know I should tell him not to come down. I mean The Plex occupants have had more than their fill of Partyboy this week. But I can't pass up the opportunity to rub my date in his face.

"Alrighty, we'll see you in a bit!" he says excited.

Perfect.

The boys show up about 20 minutes later. I'm sitting at my desk when they come in. Partyboy comes over and gives me a hug. I feel nothing. Awesome. There is always that moment where you're not quite sure if you're going to feel awkward or hurt when dealing with these types of situations. I mean, we just fooled around two days ago and I had to kick his ass out. I couldn't be sure how I would feel. But I'm good. Things are better than back to normal. I officially don't give a shit.

Mr. Boston hears the noise and comes out of his room. The guys all exchange greetings and take a seat to kick it. So much for just stopping by for a second to pick up his phone charger.

"So Carrie, do you feel like heading out with us and seeing a movie?" Partyboy asks me.

"Can't. Got plans," I tell him.

"What are you doing tonight?" PB says, raising his eyebrow.

I swear, sometimes this is just too easy.

"I got a date," I announce, perhaps too loudly.

The second I make this announcement Partyboy walks away and heads to the couch. Mr. Boston plays his role perfectly.

"So you got a date, huh? Which guy is this?" Mr Boston asks.

"The Rocker. I was just looking up the place he's taking me to. Looks pretty good, check it out," I tell him.

The Rocker had sent me the name of the restaurant and I had pulled up the menu. Dinner dates can be tricky. I always go prepared. I check out websites to find out proper attire, menu options and to peruse the atmosphere.

"Yum. Looks good. And fancy," Mr Boston says nodding his head in approval.

"Where did you meet this guy?" Snapshot asks me.

I swear, if I didn't know better, I would have thought I had paid these guys for their commentary.

"OkCupid. I like it better than Match. The crowd is younger and there are way more creatives on the site," I tell him.

"Yeah, I've done Ok before. What kind of guys have you met on the sites?" Snapshot asks.

That's all I needed. I let my fingers do the walking and start to pull up photos and video of Sinatra and The Creeper. The three of us are hunched over the computer while I share my stories of online dating gone wrong...and right. We're all laughing and the boys are asking me more questions. All except for Partyboy. He is still sulking on the living room couch.

The guys finally join him in the living room and start to watch a movie. Mr. Boston and Snapshot fall asleep after a few, so it's just Partyboy and I. Partyboy keeps asking me questions about nothing in particular. It's getting closer to The Rocker's arrival time. I shoot him a text, "Just text me when you get here and I'll run down."

I have no idea what this guy looks like. I mean I've seen photos, but those can be deceiving. My worse nightmare would be for him to come upstairs and show his true hideousness to not only me, but to the guys as well.

Partyboy gets up to go to the restroom just as The Rocker texts me, "I'm here."

I jump up and head downstairs, enjoying being able to bail without anyone knowing. I'm a grown ass women. I don't need to say goodbye.

I head out into the rain and jump into the car waiting in my driveway. I'm almost afraid to look. But I'm glad I do. Thankfully the guy actually looks better than his photos. His hair is short. Definitely looking more like Orlando Bloom. He is wearing black pin striped pants and a black button down shirt with a heavy stylish trench coat that falls to about his knees. Nice.

"Nice to finally meet you, Carrie," he says smiling at me. Cute smile. This is going to be fun.

We cruise down to the restaurant off of 3rd Street. It's still raining out, so he pulls up to valet. Good call. This guy is playing it right.

I love the joint. It's a large square room with distressed brick walls and a bustling atmosphere. He gives the hostess his name for the reservation. The guy actually made reservations! Man, it's been a while since I've been on a real date. This is nice.

We take a seat and order half of the menu. We both love to eat and aren't being shy about it. He orders us both some sake grapefruit martinis and an order of sliced scallops with kiwi and lemon sauce. It's to die for!

The conversation is easy. The guy is really funny! I catch myself grinning from ear to ear like a goon. He is sarcastic and uses the same type of dry humor to get his points across that I do. He isn't traditionally good looking like Partyboy or The Creeper, but he has the whole 'attractive' vibe working for him. I can't get over my luck! After all the creeps I've been meeting lately, who knew that I would find a hot 'normie' online?!

After dinner he looks at me and asks, " Would you like to get some dessert?"

It's not what he asked, but the way he said it that sends me into hysterics. I mean, he got all serious before he asks me this. He is looking at me intently. No, that's not the word I want to use...he asks me this question while looking at me with lust in his eye.

"Why are you asking me that all dirty like that?" I ask him.

His face goes blank for a moment and than breaks into a huge smile. He begins to laugh, " I did ask that all crazy didn't I?"

I love a guy that can laugh at himself.

"No, seriously, would you like to head somewhere else and pick up some dessert?" he tries again.

"Sure, let's keep the gluttony going," I say.

We head out of the restaurant and he takes me to SLS. I've been to the bar before, but I've never noticed the mini museum with the dessert lounge that's attached to it. The hostess takes us over to a red velvet booth with white wood trim. It's private and out of the way of prying eyes. We look at the menu. It's amazing! One yummy fusion dessert after another. I finally decide on the Tres Leches dessert. They bring it over on a rectangular porcelain plate. There is a white mound on the side that I decide to dip my spoon into. Guava juice comes spilling out. Are you kidding me? The dessert is amazing! He turns to the waitress and orders a bowl of chocolate covered raspberries. Yum.

I pull out my phone to take a photo of our yummy desserts. I see a text from Hippie Chick waiting for me. "How's it going?" she asks.

"Amazing! Really, really funny...I'd love for you to meet him...he freaking rocks!" I text back.

"All the power is out at our house! Partyboy is here. I want to meet your date. You should bring him up lol," she tells me.

You don't have to ask me twice.

"Oh my god," I say to The Rocker, feigning concern.

"What's wrong," he asks.

"All the power is out at The Plex. And we only have a few candles lying around the house." I say.

"Do you want to go pick some up for them after this," he asks.

I shoot Hippie Chick another text. "The Rocker said we can stop and pick some candles up for you guys."

"Awww, he's amazing. That would be a cute adventure if you want to do it. If not no worries," she text back.

Oh yeah. I want and we will.

"Would you mind picking up some wine as well?" she asks. I laugh. I love my drunken roommates.

The Rocker pays out the tab and we head over to a 24-hour Vons. I pick up some Catholic candles, 2 bottles of wine and a 6-pack. We head back to The Plex.

We walk upstairs and I smile when I lay eyes on the scene. Everyone is in the dining room clustered around a couple of candles. Mr Boston is wearing a plaid snowcap with attached earmuffs. Hippie Chick has a floral scarf wrapped around her head like a gypsy. Homeless Boyfriend is rolling a joint and Partyboy has a blanket wrapped around his head and shoulders.

"What's up ya'll," I say as we enter. Partyboy looks over his shoulder at me. I look back at him. The blanket covers his mouth but his eyes are focused right on mine. He's trying to tell me something with that look but I can't figure out what.

"This is The Rocker guys," I say, presenting him like a present.

Everyone stands up for a moment shaking hands and introducing themselves. Partyboy is the first to do it. Good for him. At least he's being an adult about this.

I pass out the candles and head into the kitchen to find a bottle opener in the dark while the guys figure out the seating arrangement. When I head back into the dining room, I see that they've placed a chair for me between Partyboy and The Rocker. Now I know they're trying to fuck with me.

I take a seat and look around at my Plex family. I'm so proud of my little crew. I had told The Rocker a little about them earlier that evening so he was up to speed on who's who. He fits in perfectly. Everyone is engaged and having a good time. Hippie Chick asks what kind of music he sings.

"Classic Rock pretty much." He tells her.

"Really?" she says, "I'm not sure how busy you are, but I'm managing an amazing band right now. We are just looking for a really dope singer to be their front man."

"Hey!" I interrupt. "Can we see if I even want to see this guy again before you two start linking up business arrangements with him?!"

"Oh, it's already done," Hippie Chick says smiling.

"Yeah, either way I'm going to be around," The Rocker says laughing.

Meanwhile, Partyboy is grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the table and chugging it down like water. Hippie Chick gives me a "WTF?" look from across the table. Partyboy puts the bottle down and mumbles something incoherent. HC tells me later that he was acting perfectly normal before we got there. Guess he's feeling uncomfortable about not being my center of attention for once. Whatever. Squirm monkey squirm.

Partyboy finally gets up and announces that he needs to catch the bus. Another Plex shocker! It's Sunday night, Partyboy's traditional time to sleep over and live off of us for a few days before he goes back to work on Friday. His sudden decision to part is more than just a little out of character. The Rocker stands up and shakes Partyboy's hand.

"Nice meeting you, bro," he says to him.

"You too," Partyboy mumbles.

Then out the door he went.

The rest of the crew is tired and says their good nights as well. Now it's just The Rocker and I kicking it in the dining room by candlelight. I don't feel a need to kiss him at this point. I'm perfectly content just kicking it in his space.

"You're really lucky," he says to me.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"The Plex is an awesome place. And I don't just mean the apartment. Your roommates? They're great. You really have something special here."

I smile. I know I do and I love it.

"Even Partyboy. I mean, he obviously has his problems but you can tell that guy has a good heart," he continues.

Man, this guy is perceptive.

We talk awhile longer. He shakes his head and tells me, "I must say, you are even more beautiful than your photos."

"Thank you. I tried my hardest to only post pictures that look the way I do on a daily basis." I tell him.

"It's crazy. I've been doing this online dating thing for a little while and never once did I expect to experience anything significant. But I have to say...this moment, sitting here with you right now? Well, it feels pretty freaking significant."

Melt my freaking heart! This guy is laying out compliments yet not one of them is coming across as cheesy. My gag reflex hasn't been triggered once. He is just stating exactly what is on his mind and I love it. You can tell he has no insecurities. He's not afraid about what I'll think of his statements. He's just speaking his truths, whether I'm open to it or not.

We start to talk about relationships. The Rocker was in a 7 year relationship with his last girlfriend. " I know it compares nothing to your 10 year marriage but it felt important to me. We were headed down that path. It's crazy that it ended. I'm still reeling from it."

"I know what you mean," I tell him. "Mr. Boston and I were talking about it the other day. He was telling me how so many people are looking and striving to achieve what I've already had. That most people think that marriage is the end game. Yet here I am, having been there, done that. I've moved passed it and realize that there is so much more out there to do and learn and achieve."

"Yeah, up to this point I've just been sort of dating but not really taking anything all that seriously," he says.

"Me either. I mean, just a few months ago I was this big open wound. I'm a lot better now but I can still feel the sore spots. I'm not eager to put myself into a position where someone can push on the parts that hurt. I don't want to feel that tug. I just want to be me. Do me. Not worry about that potential pain," I tell him.

"Well, I think that's why the pain is there," he says. "So that when we get into those situations again, we know that we need to get out. If someone pushes on a sore spot, that's our experience telling us to get out and move on."

Man, I like this guy.

We've been sitting in the dining room for an hour or so. I get up and lead him into the living room where we can sit more comfortably on the couch. We spend another few hours talking and laughing with each other. Night turns into early morning.

"Don't you need to go to work tomorrow...today I mean," I ask him.

"Yeah, but honestly there is not one part of me that wants to leave right now," he replies.

He looks at me and finally makes his move. It only took 10 hours but The Rocker finally kisses me. And man do I like it! "I've been wanting to do that since you got into my car," he says to me.

We spend the next 30 minutes locked into a full-blown make out fest. The man is sexy as hell. There is a moment where I take my thumb and press it against his lips. He immediately opens up and bites the tip. Then he grabs my hand and starts to kiss the inside of my wrist. Jesus, this man knows what he's doing! He leans in and scoops his head under my chin and starts to kiss up my neck. I'm in freaking heaven.

I grab the back of his hair and pull him back up to my mouth. I press him against me and give him a nice blast of my pheromones. He breaks away from me and says, "Man you are smokin!"

I smile and pull him in for more.

The sun is rising and the room is getting lighter and lighter. I hear Hippie Chicks television turn on in her room.

"You better get going. You're going to be hating it at work today." I tell him.

He sighs and gets up to grab his coat. I follow him. I forgot how tall he was. He slips on his jacket and pulls me in for another kiss. Yum.

I walk him downstairs and he wraps me into his arms for a moment.


He begins to hum, "Hum hum hmm hmm."

"Um, did you just hum 'Here Comes the Bride'?" I ask him.

His face goes blank before he answers, " No, but it did sound like that didn't it?"

I can't take it! I burst into laughter. I'm standing on the last steps to The Plex bent over, leaning on his torso for support. I can't stop the giggle fest. My stomach is in pain. I finally pull myself together and stand back up. I could see that he had been laughing too. The guy has a sense of humor. No matter what I throw at him, he's able to catch it, no problem. This guy rocks!

I don't want him to have to leave on such a silly note. I get serious and pull him in for one last kiss. He has the same idea and turns my body so that he can press me up against the wall. Oh yeah! Thank you and good night.

We finally break away from each other and he walks out the door and into the light. He turns around and says, "So, I'll be seeing you right? Soon?"

"Yes, soon," I answer back.

He smiles than presses his fingers against his mouth and gives them a kiss. I know it sounds cheesy, but I swear it wasn't. It was sweet and super smooth.

With that, he gets into his car and drives away.

I get a text about 15 minutes later. "I'm filled with awe right now that OkCupid introduced me to such a badass beauty."

Right back at you man. How in the hell did this happen? I'm smitten. I haven't liked or had such a good time with a guy since I first met The Kid. I've totally connected with him on a whole other level. We share the same interests and humor. We laugh and have a good time. The chemistry is there but we don't have to rely on it. Like I said, I just love kicking it in this guy's space.

Do I dare say it? Have I found my...Cool Rider?

Arg, too soon to tell! I need to calm down...except that I can't. I'm positively giddy!

It happened, Dear Reader. Carrie is sprung.

WCC

Nip Tuck

I had to kick Partyboy out of my bed last night because honestly? I'd rather have no sex than bad sex....

It's St Patricks day, another Holiday First for me and the occupants of The Plex. None of us were sure what we wanted to do. I was exhausted as usual from partying the night before with Mr. Boston and Partyboy. We had went to Nails house a few blocks from our place. It was supposed to be a mellow get together but instead I ended up getting way to stoned and staying up till 4am. I was a total zombie at work as usual. I swear it's a miracle that I'm still employed....

I got home at 6pm with intentions of staying in for the night, but Hippie Chick was not having it. I finally gave in after a quick 20 minute power nap on her bed. I know I should go to sleep and get ready for my 6am call time at work in the morning, but the thought of missing out on the nights potential adventures was to much for me to bare.

I wash my face in hopes of faking my alertness and ransack my closet for something green. I end up with a tight black BCBG bandage skirt with a tucked green tshirt. The neckline is split open showing just the right amount of skin. I throw on a couple of necklaces and my suede booties and I'm Red to Go.

I walk into the living room where I find The Street Artist sitting at my desk. "Hey Boo," he says. I go over and give him a hug. "I think it's time for us to get engaged," he tells me.

"Let's do it!" I reply excited.

We've been fake girlfriend/boyfriend on Facebook for a good month or so now. It was time to kick this cyber relationship up a notch.

"So I was thinking that either I can get shit faced drunk tonight and propose to you or we can wait until my birthday next month and have you propose to me." He says.

"I think it would be funnier if I proposed to you," I tell him. "Which means I need to plan out something great."

My wheels are turning. This is going to be fun! How often does one get an opportunity to plan a fake marriage proposal? Like never! I'm going to make it a good one...

We're all starved so we start the night off by ordering some food from 88 Chinese and Sushi. Sooo good. We sit and grub down as we try to plan out our evening.

Partyboy is absent from our group. He left to hang with some friends a few hours before with the promise that he would meet up with us later. So its just Homeless Boyfriend, Hippie Chick, Mr. Boston, The Street Artist and one of HC's girlfriends, who I like to call Feathers, rolling out for the evening. We finally decide to head to a bar up in Hollywood.

Being the co-dependant group that we are, we all pile into my too small car pretending to fit. The group is lapping it and loving it. We cruise down and score ourselves some front row parking. A great way to start off the night. We head inside to the almost empty club. The place is a huge warehouse with a stage to the right and couches laid out to the left. The bar is against the back wall, so we head over to get our first drinks for the evening.

I scan the room for potentials. I'm out and looking hot and its way past the time for me to find myself a local Boo. This waiting to see The Kid every few months business is getting old. I need to find someone who I can get my mack on locally. I look around and spot nothing. Time to go to Plan B. I text Partyboy, "The Plex Force is up and ready to go...where'd you guys end up?"

What? I don't see any potentials around here, might as well send out the bat call for my flirting partner. Guess I enjoy the, 'look but can't touch' tension that happens between he and I.

"In Venice for about an hour than I'll text you when we'll be back around." He responds.

Guess I'll have to hold out till than. Boring. That's one of the shitty parts about being single. Sometimes friends are just not enough. Some nights you really want and need someone to look at you with a bit of lust in their eyes. Some nights you just need someone to not only want you but actually try to have you.

The bar isn't getting any fuller so we start to discuss where we should head off to next. I look down and see that Partyboy is calling me.

"Chello?" I answer.

"Where are you guys? I'm going to start heading back your way." He responds.

I give him the cross streets and than hang up. I'm getting excited. Times been a wasting between Partyboy and I, and I feel the need to speed things up.

We finally decide to head to Dragon Fly down the street. We pile back into my car and head over. I shoot a quick text to Partyboy with the directions to our new destination.

"Roger Dodger!" He sends back.

We pull up to Dragon Fly and walk up to the front door arm and arm. The front door is charging a $15 cover but Feathers takes care of that. Everyone in my Hipster crew has a connection somewhere or the other. She just so happens to have a free pass to just about every joint in town. We walk inside with a 'wave and thank you' to the door guy and into a jammed packed house. There's a DJ spinning on stage with a live Reggae rapper. We are barely able to squeeze our way up to the bar. Everyone grabs a drink while The Street Artist and I make our way to the base of the stage. We bounce around a bit to the music before the massive crowd forces us to spit ourselves back out.

"Let's go outside," Hippie Chick says.

We all nod our heads in agreement and head out to the outside bar. Much better. We squeeze up against a wall and finally relax a bit.

"Where's Partyboy?" Hippie Chick asks me.

"He's on his way," I tell her.

"Dude, you need to make that shit happen already." She says to me.

Great. HC is drunk and plotting my sex life again.

"Make what happen?" Asks Feathers.

"Her and Partyboy. You have to see these two together. I mean, you can cut the tension with a knife. But can you believe they haven't slept with each other yet?" HC asks her.

"You and Partyboy?" Feathers asks me with a grin on her face. "Hell yeah, you need to do that. Have you guys hooked up at all yet?"

"Yes," I answer her. "A few times. I mean I never slept with him or anything but we fooled around a few times."

"Carrie's self restraint is legendary." HC chimes in. "She spent almost 24 hours with him alone in her apartment fooling around. The guy even went down on her and she was still able to hold back."

I laugh and shrug my shoulders. What can I say? No one can convince me of doing something I don't want to do. No matter how persuasive they may be.

"And good thing I didn't," I say to both of them. "Imagine how it would have felt to have slept with him and than find out he had a girlfriend the whole time? No thanks."

"Oh screw it. You just need to sleep with him and get it over with already!" HC tells me. "Right Feathers?"

"Hell yeah you do," Feathers says nudging me with her arm. "Just fucking do it man! Tonight. Make it happen."

"I can't," I tell them laughing. "He's to skittish with me."

"Carrie, just throw on your charm and tease the hell out of him. You know your the master at this shit. Make him beg. Make him want you. Than screw the hell out him!" HC yells, making pumping motions with her arms and thrusting her hips at me.

I must say, her little speech is pretty convincing. I mean, I do feel like I was cheated out of my planned birthday Partyboy screw. It would be great to get him out of my system. What better way than to release some sexual tension with well, sex? Up to this point I haven't really been very flirty with the guy. If anything I've intentionally kept my distance from him physically and emotionally. I wonder what would happen if I turned on the Carrie charm? Maybe tonight is the night to find out?

Just than, right on schedule, Partyboy texts, "Out front."

"He's here," I tell the girls. They both look at each other. Oh yeah. This is so happening tonight.

Instead of getting him in we all decide to head out. It's late and the place is packed. Party at The Plex is sounding like a better alternative. We head outside to find Partyboy waiting for us.

He walks over and pulls me into a hug. HC and Feathers are both looking at us, so he releases me quickly and gives HC a hug as well. The boy is so transparent.

Homeless Boyfriend, Mr. Boston and Streets are still in the club trying to squeeze there way out. It's cold out and us three girls are freezing our asses off.

"Why don't you and Partyboy grab the car and bring it around front," Hippie Check says.

"Let's go Partyboy," I say grabbing his arm. I make sure not to look at Hippie Chicks face. I can feel the devilish smile she's rocking; I don't need to see it.

We walk the two blocks to my car arm and arm. The conversation is light. He pulls out what looks like an old mans corn pipe. He lights it up as we continue our journey. Man this guy is funny.

We cruise back to the front of the club where the crew is waiting on the curb. There are now seven of us so I pop the trunk. The Street Artist hops in without a word and shuts it after himself. I love it! I'm totally going to buy some type of portable Christmas lights and string them up back there. I might as well create a cozy atmosphere in my trunk for Astro, Streets or any other of the occasional drunken trunk occupants.

We stop by the store to pick up some drinks and head back to The Plex. Once inside Hippie Chick and Feathers head into her room to watch some reality TV. Mr Boston says his goodnights and heads to bed. It's just me kicking it with the boys. Partyboy pulls out a bottle of whiskey and pours a few shots. Homeless Boyfriend, Streets and PB all take a shot.

"Give Carrie one," Partyboy says, grabbing the bottle and pouring me a glass.

I take it and shoot it down. I can feel it burning its way down into my stomach. Man, I'm totally going to feel that later.

"See, Carrie's got balls man. Here take another Carrie," PB says trying to refill my glass.

"I'm good I'm good, " I tell him walking away. I know what he's doing. He does this every time we're together. He wants to loosen my inhibitions. Like the way he does. He is always at his flirtiest when he's loaded.

The first time we met he was full of swagger...and Booze. He had been so confident. I mean the guy stole a kiss from me while his date was in the other room! How hot is that? But the second time we saw eachother while he was working? He was a nervous jittery mess. I had to ask for his number remember? We hang when he's sober no problem. Totally flirt free. I can sense how nervous he is around me during those times. But once he starts to knock back the drinks? The man is pulling me in for couch time.

I think that's why he pushes drinks and joints my way all the time. He wants the two of us to be at the same level. What he doesn't realize is I don't need booze to do what I want to do. I just do it. Sober and proud baby! If I make mistakes I take full responsibility. But honestly I rarely make mistakes, even through the most impulsive of decisions. More often than not everything works out in the end, or I atleast end up with an amazing story to share with you dear reader. Always a win win in my life...

I spend the next hour bouncing between HC's room to hang with the girls and out in the living room with the boys and their drunken antics. I can see Partyboy stealing looks at me when ever he thinks I'm preoccupied. Little does he know I'm never preoccupied. I see all. I remember. I write.

At one point I try to go to my bedroom to change. Partyboy see's me heading that way and grabs me. "Where you going? Get back here," He says to me. Yep. He's drunk and bold.

He pulls me out to the balcony where Homeless Boyfriend and Streets are smoking out. Partyboy joins in and passes it over to me. Whatever. I'm home now. Might as well get my St Patty day buzz on.

The conversation is fun hilarity as usual. Someone makes a joke about The Street Artist not having any balls...or penis. "Yeah, you just have a sexless mound like a Ken doll." I tell him laughing.

He finds my statement funny and decides to prove me right. I turn my head just before The Street Artist drops his pants and tucks his penis for the boys to see.

"You really just did that," Homeless Boyfriend says cracking up.

I still have my back turned laughing my ass off. I finally hear him zipping up so I turn around. Mistake. Partyboy is now unzipping his pants and sliding them off. This night has definitely gone awry.

I quickly turn around again. I don't know what the future holds for me and Partyboy, but for now? We are totally just friends. And I don't want to see my friends penis on my balcony no matter how funny it may be.

He pulls them down and tucks his penis as well. Streets pulls his tucked pee pee out again and continues the gag. Homeless Boyfriend can't decide whether to laugh or kick them off the balcony at this point. My back is turned and I'm holding onto the glass door when I feel someone press up against me...

Partyboy has now wrapped his free arm around me and is humping his tucked pelvis up against my back. Ok, "Mr I have a girlfriend". This is not proper behavior for a spoken for man. I would be pissed. With a squeal and a backwards shove I express my unhappiness with this situation.

"Ok, that's enough Partyboy. Leave her alone," Homeless Boyfriend tells him.

Partyboy stops and turns back around, still with his pants pulled down.

"Pull up your pants PB," Homeless Boyfriend continues. PB complies.

"Now zip them up," HB says.

Partyboy continues to follow directions. It's pretty funny. There is something about Homeless Boyfriends voice and tone that makes you feel like you can trust him. And that you should listen. Thank god Partyboy does. The humping wasn't one of the most respectful acts towards me. If The Street Artist had done it I would have killed him. I'm aware that I'm cutting him a little more slack than usual because of our past relationship. Also because I now know without a doubt that this boy still desperately wants to get into my pants.

I leave the boys and their Ken doll mounds on the balcony and head into Hippie Chicks bedroom to tell the girls what just happened. The second I get to the good part of the story the boys come crashing in. They are all good and drunk. I can't take the chaos so I go back out into the living room and sit down at my computer. Partyboy follows me out. This is so in the bag.

He grabs a hat off our coat rack and puts it on my head. "That looks cute on you," he tells me. "You should wear it all the time."

I laugh and turn my chair around to face him. He sits down next to me and grabs a pair of sunglasses off the table. He places them on my face smiling. He's dressing me like I'm a doll and apparently having a good time doing it. I laugh. He's a funny guy. Confused, but funny.

The boys come back out and head into the kitchen to take a few more shots. I'm exhausted so I decide to take this opportunity to sneak off to my bedroom. I have to work at 6am the next morning and it's already way pass my bedtime.

I head into my room and change. I throw on a pair of grey cotton shorts with a navy tank top. I leave my bra on. With a house full of drunks I want to be able to run out of my room comfortably if they decide to burn the place down. I lay down and immediately begin to fall asleep.

I'm not sure how long I laid there. Thirty minutes perhaps? I'm 2 seconds away from dreamland when I hear my name being whispered through my door. It's Partyboy.

"Carrie? Carrie? You in there?" I hear him ask.

"Yeah, it's open. Whats up." I call back, even though I know what's up. Or what he hopes to get up I should say.

He opens the door and walks in. My light is off but a ray of the hallway light is falling on him.

"Check out my new hat," he tells me turning around in his spot so that I can view it from all angles. He's wearing a white helmet. I have no idea where it came from. All The Plex occupants love our hats and costumes. He was probably snooping around the house and found it somewhere.

"What the hell?" I say laughing. "Let me see that!"

He comes over to my bed and takes the helmet off so that I can see it. Oh yeah, this is happening. I mean screw it! I'm down for some Partyboy action. Enough is enough. If he's to shy to make a move I'll do it. I have no shame. I'm single and he's obviously willing so let's be fucking adult about this shit and get it over with already.

I take the helmet from him and turn it in my hands. Partyboy lays the upper half of his body on me. His head is resting on my hip. I put the helmet down and start rubbing his head with my left hand. This is not a friend to friend head rubbing. I'm a girl who knows what she's doing. I scratch my nails across his scalp lightly. I pull his hair a little as I massage his scalp. I hear him moan his appreciation. Encouraged I take my fingers and press them into the back of his neck tracing a line from the back of his ear to the base of his shoulders.

He presses his face into my hip but that's the extent of his participation. I twist my body into a more comfortable position and pretend that I'm readjusting to go back to sleep. Partyboy leans back and lays on one of my pillows. I sit up and shake him a bit. He laughs and closes his eyes. Screw it. If the boy wants to be seduced I'll play along. I'm single and free and have very little shame when it comes to what I want.

I begin to rub his chest over his wife beater. I occasionally let my fingers slip under the bottom piece of his tank. I do this for a few minutes until I tire and lay back down. Ok, I'm not actually tired, I just want to see what he'll say.

"Ahhh, why did you stop? Why do you always have to stop when it starts to feel good?" He whines to me.

I laugh and and sit back up. I lay next to him and continue my caressing. I progressively get bolder and bolder. I slip my hand under his shirt and begin rubbing his bare skin. He takes his right hand and grabs my thigh, lightly squeezing me everytime I get near his pants. I start to lightly rub his lower stomach right above his crotch line. He has the fingers of his left hand wrapped through his belt loop and I notice that he's slowly pulling his pants down. His pant line is getting lower and lower everytime I make another pass. I know that any minute he will have exposed himself compeletly. I decide not to make him wait.

I rub my hand down his thigh along the outside of his pants. I want to see if he's excited before I decide to get this show on the road. I reach over and press my fingers against his crotch. Oh yeah. Partyboy is ready for his curtain call. He presses himself against my hand and moans again.

I on the other hand am getting a bit frustrated. This whole, "I'm partially asleep and not really paying attention" routine is getting old. I need some participation already!

My door is still open so I get up and shut it. I go back to the bed and straddle Partyboys torso. He grabs my thighs with his hands and pulls me towards him as he whispers,"You are so bad!"

Yeah right. I'm the one who's bad? Whatever you say Mr Magically disappearing pant guy.

I lean down and kiss him. Meanwhile he slips his pants the half inch it takes to expose his full erectness to me. He reaches up and pulls my shorts to the side trying to push himself into me. I don't know what's up with this guy and not using protection? I wasn't game for it last time, I don't know what makes him think I'd be willing to do it now. Man I hope his girl uses protection with him. Who knows what he's picked up from his carelessness.

I move my hips to the side, fully aware of how easily he would slide into me if I let him. Hippie Chick is right, my self restraint is legendary. Instead I lean in to try to kiss him again. But he's not responding. His mouth is relaxed but he's not engaging with me. I know what a Partyboy kiss feels like. Lord knows we did a shitload of making out in the past. But I don't know what this slack mouth routine he has going on right now is.

I begin to get frustrated. He's still rubbing on my crotch trying to manuever his way in, all with out one pucker on my mouth. I mean what the hell? I'm not Pretty fucking Women man. Your not asleep doodey. You are participating already so this, "I'm being taken advantage of " routine is getting old.

I finally can't take it anymore. I'm not enjoying any of this. I mean, I've said it before, I like my men aggresive. I like my sex rough. I like my sex to be passionate. The dead man getting a massage routine was annoying enough, but this? This let me screw her but don't kiss her bit? It's beyond insulting.

Partyboy is still trying to get my shorts off when I roll off of him and push him away saying,"Partyboy, NO."

He lets me go and I roll to the side and slip back under my blankets.

"Sorry,"He tells me and stands up to slip his pants back on.

Sorry for what I wonder? I mean does he even know why I'm pissed? Probably not. I mean I was ready to go. I had a condom in my jewlery box and I was perfectly willing to make this one night stand happen. I just wanted to get the deed done already. All the sexual tension and build up had hit its boiling point. It was time for Carrie and Partyboy to get it on. But not like this. If I was finally going to do this whole casual sex thing I wanted it to atleast be good. And this was far from good. It was wierd and awkward and rude. I wanted passion and lust and....anything but this.

Partyboy finishes zipping up his pants and lays back down on my bed. He's got to be kidding me? Does he actually think he is going to sleep in here?

After a few minutes I sit back up and tell him, "Partyboy, you need to go sleep in the living room."

I don't know what makes this guy think that I want to wake up with him laying next to me? I mean what's next? Was he going to pretend he was sleeping and 'accidently' snuggle with me in the middle of the night? The magics over buddy, shows over, take a bow and get the fuck out.

He listens and stands up to leave. I notice him hovering a bit looking around my room for lord knows what.

I decide to test the waters one last time. " Come here. Give me a hug goodnight."

He obeys and walks back over to me. He gives me a quick shoulder hug, averting his face as he does it. Motherfucker. Get out.

He heads out of my bedroom and quitely shuts the door behind him. This is definelty not the way I forsaw this night going.

I roll over to go to sleep. It finally happened. I'm done with Partyboy. He wants me, he likes me, but he's kind of a douche. I mean seriously? What the hell was that? Does he honestly think that what he just did wasn't cheating on his girlfriend? I'm starting to feel bad for the girl.

This could have gone a totally different way. He should have just admitted what he was doing to himself and enjoyed the moment. Just have one night of hot steamy sex with me and than call it a day. I'm not interested in a relationship with the guy. I mean he's a total untrustworthy wreck. We could have easily done the deed and both walked away happy with a sweet memory. No harm done. No regrets. Just mutual satisfaction and than we would both shut the fuck up about it and never speak of it again. Now it's been ruined.

The next day Glasses calls me from Mexico. I haven't spoken with him in two weeks, and was beyond excited to hear from my bestieboo. I give him a very brief run down of what happened.

"That's officially the last time anything like that happens between us again," I tell him.

"Yeah right. You guys will hook up agian. It's inevitable." He says laughing.

"No way," I reply. "I'm done. That wasn't fun. And honestly now I'm a bit grossed out."

"Yeah, I get that. Man, I can't leave you people for a second with out you all getting into trouble." He says.

"Hurry back Bestie, I can't take it anymore." I say to him.

We talk for a while longer before he has to get back to work. I shoot Hippie Chick a text. I'm dying to tell her what happened.

"So I'm pretty sure I got zero sleep last night because Partyboy decided to invade my bedroom...I have so much to tell you..." I text, dangling the gossip in front of her.

She immediately bites. "What?! Did you bang?!"

"Got close." I send her. "I stopped it. It was totally not cool. I made him leave my room...I'm done with Partyboy."

And it's true. The magic is gone. Part of me wishes last night never happened. I loved having my hot steamy memories of our past fooling around. Now all I have is the wierd gross memory of last night. What a freak. Boo. Time to find someone else to lust over. The swagger has left the building and all we're left with is a confused, not confidant, drunken cheating mess. Oh well. All good things must come to an end.

Time to start my next chapter of dating wtih The Rocker. A new character I met from my online library of men. He's the lead singer in his band. I'm excited about that. I haven't had a man serinade me since Sinatra did back in January in the alleys of Beverly Hills.

The Rocker is about 6 feet tall with dark hair and light eyes. I'm not sure if his hair is long or short at the moment. He sent me photos both ways. Short, he looks like Robert Pattinson. Longer he resembles Orlando Bloom. Totally doable either way.

We go out tomorrow night. It feels good to be seeing a new guy. No more hanging onto a Partyboy memory. I feel free again. Wonder what tomorrow will bring? Will The Rocker be a freaky dream like The Creeper or turn into a wierd clingy stalker like The Highlander? Or will I get lucky and finally find my Cool Rider?

Guess we'll see. For now I need to deal with the latest text from Partyboy, "Hey you! I'm sorry about the awkward situation the other evening. I hope we are still cool? Will you smoke some peace pipe over a few jamaican patties with me?!"

I know I need to respond. We're heading to his bar later tonight to have a few drinks before we head to the latest and greatest houseparty rager. God, I miss the days when I could just ignore people. I'll text him back in a bit. I'll let him sweat it out for now.

Still no regrets on my part. I went into it knowing what I wanted. He wasn't able to do the same so now it's game over.

Sorry dear reader. Partyboy is not my Mr. Big. But I'll find him. And when I do, I'll make sure your the first to know.

WCC

Chocolate Wonderland

Note to self. Do not walk into a 5 star restaurant 15 minutes after you've ate a shit load of shroom filled chocolates...

The Plex is finally taking our first family trip together. Destination, Vegas baby!
I played it mellow the night before. I was exhausted from the weeks partying and wanted to be fresh and ready for the weekend. I layed across my bed at 10pm fully clothed and passed the hell out. Sometime around 2am or so I woke up to the sounds of music and chaos on the other side of my door. I considered getting up and joining them but decided against it. My bed was calling and I decided to answer it for once. I woke up a t 7am feeling good. It was time to pack.

I threw my supplies into a bag and shot The Kid a quick text. He had sent me one sometime during the night that read, "Where you at fool?"

I responded with, "Lol...soon. Soon."

The Plex occupants were dressed and ready to go so we all piled into our rental, picked up some breakfast burritos, and off to Vegas we went. The drive was ridiculous fun. We looked like a moving rave. Music blasting, arms raising the roof. We never lost our energy. None of us rested. Homeless boyfriend luckily only almost killed us once or twice during the ride. There was laughing and screaming, and a ton of planning for the weekend. We had picked up a few special chocolates that we planned on eating later that night. I tried them a few weeks before. Just a few bites. It was trippy mellow good time fun. Tonight was going to be a riot.

I get another text from The Kid, "Your late."

"Sorry, hit some traffic.Be there soon."

I'm finally starting to get excited about seeing my out of state man. As comfortable as I've been hanging on my own, it feels good to have someone who wants me....and who I want back. I haven't seen The Kid in a month...nothing for us but a lifetime considering that he's the only man I trust and care enough about to sleep with. I'm ok with not having a boyfriend. The no sex thing on the other hand? It's celibate torture.

We get to Vegas lickity split. I love living in such close proximity to sin city. We stop at a store and pick up booze and potato chips than head to our hotel. We are staying at Aria, compliments of Homeless Boyfriends latest connections. The casino is gorgeous. No two rooms are the same. Every pathway is a work of art. We secure two adjoining rooms and head up. Mr. Boston and I will be rooming together for the evening. We walk in and the lights and curtains automatically turn on and open up. Great view of The Cosmopolitan and Vdara. The two queen beds are cushy deliciousness.

Hippie Chick and I were exhausted from the drive. We decide to chill out while the boys head down to the casino and start in on the weekends gambling. The Kid texts me again, "I just woke up. Come over."

I wish. I'm a little tired and snuggle time sounds great.

"Can't. Stuck here...the guys are gambling...Come here lazy butt. Check out the insane Aria rooms." I tell him.

"Ok. We'll call you in a minute."

Yay! I'm gonna see The Kid! I'm exhausted but I know I need to start getting ready. I don't want him to show up while I'm in my traveling clothes with unkempt hair. That's the beauty of dating someone from out of state. They never need to see you looking like shit. I always have time to plan out every outfit, makeup and hair do. I love having the time to fake my perfection.

I jump into the shower and begin to get ready for the evening. I get to a point where my hair is done and I've started in on my makeup when I hear a group of people enter into HC and HB's room. The adjoining doors are open so I walk over to see who's there. It's another member of the ever growing Hispter Crew. I call this guy Snapshot. He's a photographer who runs around taking sweet photos of the party scene in LA. A little taller than me, goatee and a beanie always planted firmly on his head. He has sort of a Dave Navarro look going for him.

The crew is assembled so we decide to pull out the weekend goody bag. Three blocks of party time filled chocolate. I take a bar and cut it into three. I plan on sharing some with Goodtimes and The Kid. We each take our piece and tap them together in a mock cheers.

The deed is done. Let the good times roll.

We head downstairs just in time to see The Kid and Goodtimes rolling up. The Kid is wearing a black long sleeve button down and some dark sunglasses. Man I forget how hot this guy is sometimes. He's not as tall as I usually like my men, but his face and smile more than make up for it. I make a beeline for my boo, and he wraps me into his arms. Nice.

I pull out the rest of my chocolates and hand them to him and Goodtimes. They only take a bit and hand the rest back to me. Whatever, when in Vegas right? I pop another chunk in my mouth and wrap my arm around The Kid. We're all in it together now.

None of us have ate since the breakfast burritos earlier that morning. Homeless Boyfriend is in a panic to find us food before the poisoned chocolate hits our stomach. It takes less time than we had first anticipated. Hippie Chick and I are upstairs looking at a menu when the first wave hits us. We look at each other with wide open eyes.

"Oh, shit. I'm feeling it," I tell her.

"Me to," she answers. The menu on the wall is illuminated and is glowing to brightly for me to look at. The waitress leads us to our table and we all take a seat. "It just hit us," Hippie Chick says leaning into the table so that everyone can hear her.

The second she makes this announcement its like a bomb hits the table. All at once we're all totally tripping balls. The restaurant is a wonderland of colors and activity. Too much activity. We haven't even ordered, yet now we've lost any sense of time or taste. It seems like everyone in the room is staring at us. It's more than paranoia. They actually are. We are an interesting group. None of us really match with the other yet we all undeniably belong together. The word "Hollywood" seems to be floating above all of our heads.

Hippie Chick looks gorgeous in a black romper with a deep v neckline and Purple smokey eyeliner. I'm wearing a tight black dress, ankle boots with my blond and black hair pulled back with feathered earrings. Mr. Boston has on a powder blue button down with a navy vest. He is rocking a pair of matching neon blue sunglasses. Homeless Boyfriend has on a pair of shades as well and Snapshot is wearing a bright red shirt, black skinny jeans, beanie and his glasses. We are a bright colorful beautiful group, that have completely lost their ability to socialize in public.

The Kid sits down next to me and tries to engage me in conversation. I can't do it. My body is buzzing, the room is a kaleidoscope of colors and I can't wipe the stupid grin off my face. This is not the same mellow trip I had before. I've taken way to much on a completely empty stomach. I am so screwed.

"We need to get some food in us now," I say to the group.

"I can't do it,"Snapshot says.

"It's going to be like eating under water," Mr. Boston adds.

We all start to giggle at his statement. Bad call. We are two seconds away from having a complete laughfest meltdown. We somehow manage to pull it together.

Dinner was torture. The waiter won't stop asking us questions. He is by our side every two seconds. Mr. Boston can't stop looking over his shoulder to see if he's coming. The man seems to pop up unexpectedly with the sole purpose of scaring the shit out of us.

"Let's just act like we have a gig later and that we need to leave as soon as possible," Hippie Chick says to me.

"Ok, good plan," I reply. The waiter comes over for the millionth time and I look at him and ask for the check. I pause for a moment about to tell him about our gig later on when I realize I don't have a back story to support the lie. I stare at him for a moment, mouth open and completely blank.

"Yeah, um, just the bill thanks," I repeat after a few.

"Ofcourse," he replies politely. I'm sure he's used to this. Wild rockstars coming in causing a ruckus and staring at him with incoherent dilated eyeballs...

The dinner lasted forever. Part of me still thinks that I'm sitting at that table even now. He brings the check and Mr. Boston holds out his hand, "I got this, " he says in a deep self important voice.

We all giggle quietly as he grabs the bill and pulls out his card. We're way to out of it to divide it up. Better to have Mr Boston look like the baller and take care of it for us until we get back to reality.

Finally free we jump up and head straight towards the elevators to our rooms.

"Let's just chill for a few hours and reconvene at midnight yes?" Homeless Boyfriend says.

"Sounds like a plan Stan," I say back.

The walk to the room was awesome. I think the designers of Aria had moments like these in mind when they created this beautiful casino. All I want to do is sit on the carpet and stare at the basket weaved walls or the crystal pipes coming out of the ceilings. Luckily The Kid is having a lighter trip and drags me along after the group and back up to our rooms.

HC and HB go straight to their room and shut the connecting door. Mr Boston, Snapshot, The Kid and I head into my room and plant ourselves down on the beds.

We stayed in for the next 2 hours. Snapshot sat in the corner drawing the bulk of the time. Every now and than he would stand up looking for a map of the Casino. "I want to go down to the pool," he says. He picks up the phone to call the front desk but gets distracted while on hold and heads back to his corner to draw.

Mr. Boston is bouncing around the room. We had purchased a purple ball at the store earlier and he was throwing it around. "Is anyone else hot?" he asks us as he strips off his vest.

"Nope, just you Boston," I answer smiling. I'm sitting on the bed next to The Kid. He is layed out on his back and I'm sitting up next to him using his leg as a back rest. His arm is around my waist. I'd give anything to turn over and kiss him. Snapshot seems to sense my longing.

"Um, do you guys want to be alone?" he asks sounding genuinely concerned.

Ofcourse I do fool. I haven't seen my Boo in a month and I'm dying for some snuggle time. And by snuggle I mean hot sweaty sex.

"No," I say instead, laughing. "We're fine."

The Kid just laughs. Mr Boston is now rolling across the bed. Once he hits the edge he yells out, "I'm melting!" and than proceeds to promptly slides down to the floor.

I start to laugh uncontrollably. I'm so glad we are back in the privacy of our own room. We can now be as silly and tripped out as we want to be.

"I want to draw too!" Mr Boston says.

I get up and search around the room for another pen. After I hand one over I head to the window. One full wall is open to the city. The view is breath taking. I press my forehead against the cool glass and let my distorted vision take it all in.

Snapshot stands up to take a photo of me. I turn around to try to pose but I can't do it. Everything is just so funny to me at the moment. He attempts to take two shots, both without my face in them. He finally gives up and heads back to the phone to see if he can find the pool again.

After a few hours of giggly chaos I begin to feel a little lull in my trip.

"I'm feeling slightly normal," Mr Boston says mirroring my feelings.

"Me to," I tell him," Quick! putting on your shoes! Lets get out of here while we still can."

We all jump up and start to get ready like the place is on fire. We know that the effects of the chocolate are far from over, and we want to get downstairs before they pull us back down into wonderland.

We head back into the casino to look for Goodtimes and the rest of The Kids crew. After a few phone calls we finally spot them coming around the casino.

The guys want to pick up some more booze so we walk into a huge CVS on the corner. We are a boisterous group running about 10 deep. The guys all walk to the cooler and grab 40 oz bottles of Corona.

"You want one Carrie?" Mr. Boston asks.

"Yeah right, do I look like a beer swigger?" I respond.

"No," He answers laughing."I honestly can't think of anything that would look stranger than you chugging down a huge bottle of Corona."

The boys go to pay and I stand off to the side taking in the scene. Man people in Vegas are ugly looking. I mean this might be the chocolates talking but there be some scary looking people in the room.

I pull out my camera and snap a few photos. The boys finish paying and I snap an awesome shot of them toasting their giant Corona bottles in the store. Only in Vegas man.

We wander back onto the strip and head into the MGM casino. I honestly can't remember how we filled the next few hours. My high begins to dwindle and I find myself at a roulette table watching Mr Boston gamble. I look over to the right and see Hippie Chick and Homeless Boyfriend walking up. HC has changed into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. Her face has been washed of her bedazzled makeup and she's wearing a pair of glassless black rimmed specs.

"Rough trip?" I ask her.

"Uh, yeah,"she replies. "I can't believe we left the room right now."

I laugh and turn back to look at The Kid. He asks me a question about our ride up to Vegas. I start to answer him when he reaches up to grab my face and pulls me in for a kiss.


Man I love this moment! We have it everytime we meet up. We spend hours in each others presence with little more than a few hugs and hand holding. Than wham! Makeout city. Always feels like the first time. You have no idea how it feels to constantly have a first kiss with the same person. Our chemistry is always set on repeat and it rocks. We spend a few moments lost in the kiss. We are still tripping a bit so the effects of the kiss are amplified. My body instantly warms up so I pull myself away before I throw the man down on the floor and strip him down in public.

We decide to leave MGM and head to another casino. I have no idea where so please don't ask. I know we are sitting at a electronic roulette table. The Kid and I are sharing a seat and I decide to turn around to give him another quick smooch. Well, a little turns into a lot and we are both lost in eachothers embrace for a solid 5 minutes. That's when I feel someone tap me on my shoulder.

I break away to see the roulette table dealer glaring at us.

"You can't do that here,"He scolds me.

I just look at him with a blank face.

He tries again. "You can do that anywhere else but this spot is for gambling. You two are going to need to go."

I continue looking at him like I don't speak any English until he finally gives up and walks away.

Leave it to me to get kicked out of a casino for macking down my man. I swear the universe is against me getting any action.

"What did he just tell you?" Hippie Chick asks me.

"He said we can't make out here." I tell her.

"Did he say you guys have to leave?" she asks.

"Hell if I know. I'm trippin right now. All I saw was hand gestures and nostril hair. I'm not going anywhere." I say,and we both laugh.

I turn around to check on The Kid. His eyes are wide open and he is covering his mouth with his hand.

"You ok?" I ask him grinning.

"I feel like I just got scolded by my high school teacher." He says through his hand.

I laugh and give him a shake. Poor guy. He has never been much of a PDA kind of guy. This is probably his worse nightmare. Amplified by the drugs and alcohol.

I'm pissed. Damn jealous looser dealer ruining my snosh time with my man. Grrrr. It's so time to go. We get up and head back out to the strip.

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. We loose The Kids group again and he walks off with me and my crew. At some point we end up at New York New York. There's a little makeshift night club going on in one of the 'Deli's' in the casino. We all peer through the bars and see a DJ, strobe lights and bar. Mr Boston and I look at each other thinking the same thing. It's time to get our jiggy on!

We leave The Kid, HC and HB on the outside of the bars and walk around to the front entrance. The door guy checks our ID's and wraps a yellow 21 and over wrist band on us. We head inside and plant ourselves in front of the DJ near the bars where our friends are standing.

We start to groove to the music and let me tell ya, Mr Boston can dance!! I don't know if it's because the music is just really good or if it's the toxins running through our veins but we look like the best dancers in the world!!!!!!

We are scooping and sliding and bumping and grinding. I'm loving it! It's been a while since I've danced with a partner that can groove as well as I can. This is the first time in a long while I've been able to jam with a partner without having to worry about any groping or boring conversations. This is just about putting on a show and enjoying the act of dancing.

The music switches and we both look at each other with a sour face. The moods been lost so we walk back out and head towards our smiling friends.

"You guys were the shit," Hippie Chick says.

We smile and head out of the casino together. We start our journey back to Aria. Mr. Boston grabs my arm and pulls me back towards him, out of ear shot of our friends.

"So whats the plan? I'm sure you want some alone time with your guy right?" he asks me.

Damn right skippy.

"Yeah, um, why don't you just hang in the casino for a bit. I'll text you as soon as the coast is clear?" I tell him.

"Deal." He says.

"Damn, your the best roomie ever!" I tell him, giving him a high five.

We walk back into our casino and head towards the elevators.

"I'll catch up with you guys later, I'm gonna go gamble for a bit." Mr Boston announces walking towards the tables.

HC and HB wave at him looking confused. I say goodbye, keeping my face perfectly blank. I'd rather The Kid not know about my agreement with Mr Boston. I mean I don't want the guy to think I'm a floosy right?

We head up to the room and say goodnight to HC and HB. The Kid and I head into my room and while he's in the restroom I shut the adjoining door to HC's room. I turn on some music and take off my shoes, earrings and rings. He comes back in and lays on the bed. I lay next to him and we begin to chit chat about our crazy night out.

I tire pretty quickly of this and decide to get this party started. I roll over, covering half of him with my body and pull his face into a kiss. I feel is body respond to my touch and he pulls me in tighter. He reaches down and slips his hand up my dress and grabs my ass. Now we're talking.

We go from PG to R pretty quickly. I reach down and expertly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants using my toes. A trick a learned in my youth. I pull up my dress and....well, just insert the word rodeo and worked into the appropriate slots.

Sex has always been...good, with The Kid. Not out of this world or mind blowing. Just consistently good. A girl like me needs more though. My last two partners described my love making with the same word. Passionate. I like squeezing and pulling. I want a guy to tell me what he wants. I ask often. I want to be looked at and slammed against a wall. I want to be bent over with a handful of my hair in a guys hand. I scratch, I bruise, I bite and purrrr. Love me, want me, squeeze me, hurt me, make me want to scream and cry out and sweat and breath all of you into me.

The Kid isn't really that guy. He's sweet and considerate. He always makes sure that I get mine but he's gentle and habitual when it comes to his love making. There's a moment where I decide to snap him out of his gentleness. I was on top of him and getting a little frustrated with the simpleness of it all. I decide to shock him out of his boringness. I sit straight up and start to move my body working him in a way that I know will blow his mind. I look down at him placing my fingers into his mouth and scorching him with my glare. He responds immediately. I can feel his body shudder under me. Hmmmm. Maybe there's hope for this guy yet...

Finally done with our much wanted and needed sweat fest, I roll over and grab my phone. Poor Mr. Boston has been sexiled from the room for 40 minutes or so. It's now 5am and time for all little good boys and girls to go to bed.

I shoot him a text, "Done and done."

"Wow, you just stopped me from going on an excursion that wouldn've of fucked me." He text back. He tells me later that when I text he was in line waiting for a taxi. "To go where?" I asked him. "Hell if I know," he tells me shrugging.

"Come home Boston, we still have one more night here." I text back.

I lay back down next to The Kid. He curls up next to me placing his head near mine. I turn over and kiss him on his head. Man I like this guy. I know one day all of this will have to end, but for now, he's still mine.

I close my eyes and begin to fall into dreamland. I hear Mr. Boston walk in, but I'm way to tired out to respond.

The Kid's phone rings a few hours later waking us up. It's Goodtimes telling him it's time to check out of thier hotel. I roll over and wrap myself around The Kids body. He pulls me into an embrace and we spend the next fifteen minutes locked in eachothers arms. We definitely didn't have enough time with each other. These quick trips are such a tease. I finally need to let him go, so I wrap a blanket around myself as he gets dressed. I walk him to the door and out into the hall. He grabs me around my waist and pulls me in for another kiss.

"You should stay another night," I tell him, whipping out my best pouty face.

"I wish. We all have to work tomorrow though. You'll be coming out my way soon though won't you?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'll figure something out soon." I tell him.

He turns to leave than stops and instead pulls me into another long kiss. We give eachother a final squeeze and he walks away. I head back into my room and lay back down in my bed. I can still smell The Kids cologne on my pillow. I pull it towards me and drift off to sleep for a few more hours surrounded by his scent.

See you later Kid. As always you'll be missed.

WCC