Gah... when will it end? And how?
It just keeps getting better and better...
Or rather, worse.
Ron and I nearly lasted 20 days, this time! Nice, huh? We almost split on Thursday night, but we've fucked and forgotten since then so I guess we're moving on...
Short update: the previous Friday we had 2 birthday parties; one was K's girlfriends, at a gay-friendly pub in Tel-Aviv, and the second was a salsa guy's at the Mob's usual pub closer to home. We managed both parties, and I drank at both, so Ron drove, and we slept at my place. We'd planned it in advance, since my parents wouldn't be home the next Saturday so Ron wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness he feels around families. *rolls eyes*
Whatever, I don't care so much, the good thing about an empty house is that we managed to have sex 4 times - yes, you read that right, four times! Twice at night, once in the morning before a shower, and then once again after it. I was pretty fucking sore by the fourth time so we didn't exactly finish, and I guess Ron was sort of overstimulated as well because we just kept going and going and going and it didn't end! lol. If it hadn't been the fourth time in less than 12 hours then I would have really loved for it to not end, but since it was... awkward.
Then at Tuesday!Salsa I had to practically drag him to the club because he wasn't sure he wanted to go (I sent him a picture of my ass in dance-tights as incentive and I guess it worked, because he did come in the end) and there was something awkward in the air between us - I got upset that he danced with other girls before he danced with me. As a rule, in general, I really don't mind it when he dances with other girls. After all, I dance with other guys, it's the whole point of the club and of (thankfully) having a lot of friends there. But I would much prefer if the first girl he danced with, upon arriving at the club, were me. After some sulking and a very bad dance together (during which he tried to do a complicated dip, didn't manage it, and blamed me for not knowing and for not holding my stance properly) he finally caught on that I was pissed. I also botched a move during a Rueda circle, and instead of laughing it off and saying, "No big deal, it happens" and continuing to dance, like most guys do, Ron called me out on my error and that kind of hurt my feelings.
We worked it out (or rather, I decided to just drop it) and drove to a cafe to meet up with a few Salsa Mob guys. I threw out some very thinly-veiled insults towards Ron, which were most definitely noticed by the guys, but they didn't rise to the occasion, thankfully. I was being a bitch, because I was still angry with Ron, but I did apologize the next day.
On Thursday, right after work, I drove over to Ron's and he said he was taking me out to dinner. We'd been trying to arrange it since the 19th of May (meaning, 10 days already) because I'd been on my period then, and he just sort of snapped (humorously) and said, "No, tonight, we're going tonight. I don't care there's a (salsa-girl's) birthday party, I've been trying to give you hints and it's not working so fuck it, we're going tonight!"
And so he drove and he took me to Max Brenner's, at the Herzeliya Marina. It was a nice, romantic gesture, and I do give him props for it, but damn... I wish he'd have done something a bit more original. Max Brenner is... so cliche. It's like... first date material. I really do hope he does something a bit more interesting for my birthday.
After dinner we went to the salsa girl's birthday party, which was fun, at first. People played Twister and there was good vodka (orange-flavored Stoli) and Ron pretty much encouraged me to drink. A lot. And by 'a lot' for me I mean I had 2 shots and 2 cups of vodka+juice. The shots I took myself, and Ron gave me the juice. He keeps saying jokingly that he wants to get me drunk and take advantage of me, and frankly I don't mind drinking a bit. Only this time it was a bit too much, I started to get really giggly and the room was spinning.
And then I was spinning too, because one of my favorite salsa songs came on the stereo and I popped up from where I was sitting next to Ron and said, "Ooh, I love this song!" and then S, one of the guys, immediately said "Let's dance" and grabbed me. It was an awful dance, of course, because I was drunk and not wearing comfortable shoes, and I'd taken off my glasses and was without contacts so everything was blurry. Twice during the dance I heard Ron tell the other guy, "Whoa, no," very assertively, probably because the guy was dipping me a little too close to the glass-doored cabinets.
After the song ended I sat down next to Ron, panting, out of breath, dizzy, laughing, and said, "Well maybe that wasn't such a good idea, lol" and put a hand on Ron's leg. He remained stone-faced and brushed my hand off, which immediately ruined my good tipsy mood. We left shortly after that, and started fighting in the car. At first Ron said that he was offended I danced with another guy, though he explained it a little more complicated, that it wasn't specifically that I danced with someone else, but that I didn't ask him first, or even glance at him. I countered that I have no idea where my eyes went first because I was drunk and probably moved subconsciously towards the open area of floor or maybe even towards where the speakers where the music was coming from - which happened to be the exact opposite direction of where he was seated, to my right. I said I'd just gone along with the first person who invited me to dance and that I would have even danced with any girl, if she'd grabbed me and started moving with me, I was that drunk. And if he was upset that I didn't "choose" him - why on earth didn't he offer?
It got to the point that he latched onto the sentence "I just went along" and said "And what if someone had tried to kiss you, would you have 'just gone along' with that as well?!"
That was it for me - I was speechless for all of half a second before I said, "You've gone too far" (it's just one single word in Hebrew, much more dramatic), got out of the car, slammed the door and walked away. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I walked away from my own car, at midnight, in a neighborhood I only vaguely know in a town 20km from my home. I left Ron in my car, in the middle of the road and walked away.
Ron chased after me - he too left the car in the middle of the road, but he did at least turn the engine off and take the keys with him (my house key as well was there... fuck I don't know how I would have gotten into my house; I'd planned on getting a cab home, fuck the cost, and leaving him there, but now that I look back on it - he had my keys!!) and he chased after me. He grabbed my arm - and I slapped him. I whirled around and I slapped him hard. He was in shock, total shock, but I didn't give him much time, I started yelling again that he'd gone too far. Honestly, I've been with him for 8 months now, and every time we fight and almost (or do) split, I've still gone back to him, still been faithful to him - how dare he insinuate, or outright suggest, that I might kiss someone else, or allow someone else to kiss me?? I wasn't that drunk. And even if I was - he was the one who'd made sure I got drunk.
We fought for several minutes on the sidewalk, until a car came speeding down the street and nearly hit my own (I remind you, parked-in-the-middle-of-the-street) car, so he went back to start it and park it more safely in a spot by the sidewalk. We continued to talk/fight - I was talking in much higher tones than he, he was very quiet and calm. He did take some of the blame, saying maybe he was just making things up or making them out to mean much more than they do - he also admitted that maybe he shouldn't judge me as harshly since I was drunk and he'd encouraged that.
We ended up still going to his place together, still talking about it the whole ride, and eventually kissing and well, if not making up, then at least not talking about it anymore. I made it clear that I didn't want to have sex that night - I didn't understand how he even wanted to, but he said it quite clearly: I still want to sleep with you tonight, I want you, I don't want to let you go. It's probably what did me in, what made me stay. Also, I was fucking drunk and probably wouldn't have gotten home safely.
Ron made sure I drank some water and helped me out of my (very short) skirt and shirt. It was somehow sensual, the way he touched me, but still gentle and not overly sexy. I slept pretty well, and didn't wake up really hungover so much as a tiny bit queasy. No headache, no overwhelming urge to throw up, no light sensitivity. I was even sober enough to have removed my make-up before crashing at night, so my eyes weren't burning. We did have sex in the morning, and cuddled in bed up until 11.
We went to the mall to do some shopping, and things went pretty well. Ron bought a few shirts and I think I might have finally found The Red Dress - I've been wanting a red dress that could work both as a sexy 'event' dress and as a casual dress for about two years now. I haven't been able to find one that's really red - there's this very strange peach-orange-red shade that's taken over the Israeli shops these past years, it's awful. Well it's not awful, I do have a shirt in that shade. But everything is now in that shade, and the proper sexy red is nowhere to be found. Til now :) I might buy myself this dress for my birthday...
Which is in 2 weeks, I'm finally doing a birthday circle at the Salsa club, and at the end of June my parents go abroad so I'll have a house party like last year - only hopefully much better because I'm more popular now and I have more friends :)
Or rather, worse.
Ron and I nearly lasted 20 days, this time! Nice, huh? We almost split on Thursday night, but we've fucked and forgotten since then so I guess we're moving on...
Short update: the previous Friday we had 2 birthday parties; one was K's girlfriends, at a gay-friendly pub in Tel-Aviv, and the second was a salsa guy's at the Mob's usual pub closer to home. We managed both parties, and I drank at both, so Ron drove, and we slept at my place. We'd planned it in advance, since my parents wouldn't be home the next Saturday so Ron wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness he feels around families. *rolls eyes*
Whatever, I don't care so much, the good thing about an empty house is that we managed to have sex 4 times - yes, you read that right, four times! Twice at night, once in the morning before a shower, and then once again after it. I was pretty fucking sore by the fourth time so we didn't exactly finish, and I guess Ron was sort of overstimulated as well because we just kept going and going and going and it didn't end! lol. If it hadn't been the fourth time in less than 12 hours then I would have really loved for it to not end, but since it was... awkward.
Then at Tuesday!Salsa I had to practically drag him to the club because he wasn't sure he wanted to go (I sent him a picture of my ass in dance-tights as incentive and I guess it worked, because he did come in the end) and there was something awkward in the air between us - I got upset that he danced with other girls before he danced with me. As a rule, in general, I really don't mind it when he dances with other girls. After all, I dance with other guys, it's the whole point of the club and of (thankfully) having a lot of friends there. But I would much prefer if the first girl he danced with, upon arriving at the club, were me. After some sulking and a very bad dance together (during which he tried to do a complicated dip, didn't manage it, and blamed me for not knowing and for not holding my stance properly) he finally caught on that I was pissed. I also botched a move during a Rueda circle, and instead of laughing it off and saying, "No big deal, it happens" and continuing to dance, like most guys do, Ron called me out on my error and that kind of hurt my feelings.
We worked it out (or rather, I decided to just drop it) and drove to a cafe to meet up with a few Salsa Mob guys. I threw out some very thinly-veiled insults towards Ron, which were most definitely noticed by the guys, but they didn't rise to the occasion, thankfully. I was being a bitch, because I was still angry with Ron, but I did apologize the next day.
On Thursday, right after work, I drove over to Ron's and he said he was taking me out to dinner. We'd been trying to arrange it since the 19th of May (meaning, 10 days already) because I'd been on my period then, and he just sort of snapped (humorously) and said, "No, tonight, we're going tonight. I don't care there's a (salsa-girl's) birthday party, I've been trying to give you hints and it's not working so fuck it, we're going tonight!"
And so he drove and he took me to Max Brenner's, at the Herzeliya Marina. It was a nice, romantic gesture, and I do give him props for it, but damn... I wish he'd have done something a bit more original. Max Brenner is... so cliche. It's like... first date material. I really do hope he does something a bit more interesting for my birthday.
After dinner we went to the salsa girl's birthday party, which was fun, at first. People played Twister and there was good vodka (orange-flavored Stoli) and Ron pretty much encouraged me to drink. A lot. And by 'a lot' for me I mean I had 2 shots and 2 cups of vodka+juice. The shots I took myself, and Ron gave me the juice. He keeps saying jokingly that he wants to get me drunk and take advantage of me, and frankly I don't mind drinking a bit. Only this time it was a bit too much, I started to get really giggly and the room was spinning.
And then I was spinning too, because one of my favorite salsa songs came on the stereo and I popped up from where I was sitting next to Ron and said, "Ooh, I love this song!" and then S, one of the guys, immediately said "Let's dance" and grabbed me. It was an awful dance, of course, because I was drunk and not wearing comfortable shoes, and I'd taken off my glasses and was without contacts so everything was blurry. Twice during the dance I heard Ron tell the other guy, "Whoa, no," very assertively, probably because the guy was dipping me a little too close to the glass-doored cabinets.
After the song ended I sat down next to Ron, panting, out of breath, dizzy, laughing, and said, "Well maybe that wasn't such a good idea, lol" and put a hand on Ron's leg. He remained stone-faced and brushed my hand off, which immediately ruined my good tipsy mood. We left shortly after that, and started fighting in the car. At first Ron said that he was offended I danced with another guy, though he explained it a little more complicated, that it wasn't specifically that I danced with someone else, but that I didn't ask him first, or even glance at him. I countered that I have no idea where my eyes went first because I was drunk and probably moved subconsciously towards the open area of floor or maybe even towards where the speakers where the music was coming from - which happened to be the exact opposite direction of where he was seated, to my right. I said I'd just gone along with the first person who invited me to dance and that I would have even danced with any girl, if she'd grabbed me and started moving with me, I was that drunk. And if he was upset that I didn't "choose" him - why on earth didn't he offer?
It got to the point that he latched onto the sentence "I just went along" and said "And what if someone had tried to kiss you, would you have 'just gone along' with that as well?!"
That was it for me - I was speechless for all of half a second before I said, "You've gone too far" (it's just one single word in Hebrew, much more dramatic), got out of the car, slammed the door and walked away. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I walked away from my own car, at midnight, in a neighborhood I only vaguely know in a town 20km from my home. I left Ron in my car, in the middle of the road and walked away.
Ron chased after me - he too left the car in the middle of the road, but he did at least turn the engine off and take the keys with him (my house key as well was there... fuck I don't know how I would have gotten into my house; I'd planned on getting a cab home, fuck the cost, and leaving him there, but now that I look back on it - he had my keys!!) and he chased after me. He grabbed my arm - and I slapped him. I whirled around and I slapped him hard. He was in shock, total shock, but I didn't give him much time, I started yelling again that he'd gone too far. Honestly, I've been with him for 8 months now, and every time we fight and almost (or do) split, I've still gone back to him, still been faithful to him - how dare he insinuate, or outright suggest, that I might kiss someone else, or allow someone else to kiss me?? I wasn't that drunk. And even if I was - he was the one who'd made sure I got drunk.
We fought for several minutes on the sidewalk, until a car came speeding down the street and nearly hit my own (I remind you, parked-in-the-middle-of-the-street) car, so he went back to start it and park it more safely in a spot by the sidewalk. We continued to talk/fight - I was talking in much higher tones than he, he was very quiet and calm. He did take some of the blame, saying maybe he was just making things up or making them out to mean much more than they do - he also admitted that maybe he shouldn't judge me as harshly since I was drunk and he'd encouraged that.
We ended up still going to his place together, still talking about it the whole ride, and eventually kissing and well, if not making up, then at least not talking about it anymore. I made it clear that I didn't want to have sex that night - I didn't understand how he even wanted to, but he said it quite clearly: I still want to sleep with you tonight, I want you, I don't want to let you go. It's probably what did me in, what made me stay. Also, I was fucking drunk and probably wouldn't have gotten home safely.
Ron made sure I drank some water and helped me out of my (very short) skirt and shirt. It was somehow sensual, the way he touched me, but still gentle and not overly sexy. I slept pretty well, and didn't wake up really hungover so much as a tiny bit queasy. No headache, no overwhelming urge to throw up, no light sensitivity. I was even sober enough to have removed my make-up before crashing at night, so my eyes weren't burning. We did have sex in the morning, and cuddled in bed up until 11.
We went to the mall to do some shopping, and things went pretty well. Ron bought a few shirts and I think I might have finally found The Red Dress - I've been wanting a red dress that could work both as a sexy 'event' dress and as a casual dress for about two years now. I haven't been able to find one that's really red - there's this very strange peach-orange-red shade that's taken over the Israeli shops these past years, it's awful. Well it's not awful, I do have a shirt in that shade. But everything is now in that shade, and the proper sexy red is nowhere to be found. Til now :) I might buy myself this dress for my birthday...
Which is in 2 weeks, I'm finally doing a birthday circle at the Salsa club, and at the end of June my parents go abroad so I'll have a house party like last year - only hopefully much better because I'm more popular now and I have more friends :)