The man who kicked this whole story off

Please bear with me as I have no idea how to do anything fancy like linking or making italics. Maybe I'll learn soon.

I never thought about blogging. Ever. I don't really read blogs until the past week. It all started on Black Wednesday last year. My boyfriend (who we will nickname Paulo to keep names consistent with the person who came up with them) and I have been together 6 years, almost 7. I love him dearly and he's so amazing to me. He's handsome, strong, earns good money doing good things. He's crazy about me, too. Everything is perfect, except in the bedroom.

We were supposed to meet up to have a sexy outing, which I had hoped would get him more interested in working harder in the bedroom. I dressed up in a brand new, expensive dress and had my best friend Mona do my hair. I think I looked hotter than any time in the past 3 years. Before I went out, he sent me a text message that he was going to go out with the guys but I could meet them at this bar a few blocks from our apartment.

I was sad, right away, because it is obvious that he is oblivious to my needs in the bedroom. I'm a young, attractive and very sexual woman. He's gorgeous, all my friends beg to know how our sex life is, but I don't kiss and tell. There isn't much to tell. So I decide to go out anyway, have a few drinks, come home, and maybe sneak my vibrator out of its hiding place. Paulo hated when I bought it, and I told him I threw it away.

I walked in the cold to the bar, getting there just as more of his friends arrived. I tried to give him a hug but he just smacked my ass and said find a seat, which I did. Sitting next to me was a dashing man who was so focused on his drink that he didn't notice me come in and sit down. I always turn heads, and I like knowing that I do. This guy didn't even glance at me, which instantly made me curious.

I ordered my drink, and listened in on the conversation between Mr. Possibly Gay and the bartender. They were talking about the girl bartender's horrible sex life. My drink went down fast, loosening me up just as Paulo decided to leave. He said he didn't know when he'd be back and to get home safely. Nice loving boyfriend. (He is very nice when he's not drinking with his macho friends).

I butted myself into the conversation and basically tried to get some compassion from the female bartender. She was pretty, but sometimes women don't want to listen to me complain because some are jealous of my looks, my boyfriend, my job. If only they knew how I felt inside, how much I needed Paulo to take me and show me his love through sex, too.

Now the bartender and I are swapping stories, and Mr. Casual Attitude is just listening, nodding his head, but making eye contact with whoever is talking. It is starting to drive me nuts. Finally we finish our conversation, and I decide to just talk to him, to try to see if he's gay, or if there is finally a man in a bar with a drink who isn't interested in me. I don't want to come off as anything special, but it is nice to be noticed.

Before I can say a word, he looks at my face closer. He looks at my nose, my mouth, my ears, my hair. He never looks at my breasts, which are practically hanging out of my tight new dress. He never looks even below my chin, probably another first. Who is this man? Then he asks me my name. I tell him just as I realize who I think he is. I ask him, and he confirms it.

We both smile. I never met him (he says we did, once), but Paulo has pictures on his Facebook of the two together. How I didn't notice him is odd, I have a good memory for faces. I think it is that he is not photogenic, so he looks different in real life. Before he says anything, all I can think of is that I want this man inside of me. I fight off that thought immediately, wondering how it happened. He's nothing compared to Paulo. He's a lot shorter than me, even. But I look, and all I can think of is that this is a man, and that this man understands exactly what I am going through.

I will write more later, this is hard!