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My friend Elizabeth decided sort of last minute to drive to LA, she got to my place around 4:30 p.m. I was showered and ready to go, we were both ready to drink. We mentioned on our way (or after the first drink, I can’t remember), that it would be nice to see Cole. The three of us always have so much fun together. We had been trying to see him on her last couple visits, but scheduling with those two is like passing the BAR exam. But the planets were aligned. I messaged him, and he said he had a window. I told him where we were going and he said he’d meet us there (oh, so I guess it was pre-drink). Parking is a shit show on Sunday afternoons at this place, so it took us a minute. He actually drove past us as we were walking up the street to the bar. He honked and flipped us off. Dumbass. Sexy-as-hell-dumbass. He mentioned that he only had time for two beers. Mhm. Nice try, honey. No way that was going to happen. We are way too much fun. I had showered, but not foreseeing this, hadn’t shaved. Which is a bummer, but as I’ve mentioned, men do. not. give. a. shit. Especially if it’s a take it or leave it situation. Everyone prefers smooth skin, but sex itself will always win.

Three glasses of pinot grigio (they only serve beer and wine), I was telling them about the Odette happening and how the last portion of the story happened at the bar across the train tracks. They wanted to go—in the hopes of seeing her. I didn’t want to see her, but I was ready for a real drink. My stomach has a white wine limit. Cole made it known that he wanted a car quickie. Which was A-fuckin-okay with me! I’m always ready for him. Plus, the three of us had been talking about sex and sex things, I was pining.

Thankfully, Odette (a crazy woman who a week a go tried to start some ridiculous bar argument with me over her man) wasn’t there, but all the old men and a good bluesy live jam session was. It was perfect. After a cocktail (or two), Cole made the move for us to go to his car. His new, never-been-christened, single dad mini SUV. We didn’t even consider my car. Been there, done that. He’s the infamous reverse-head on 4th street. We crossed the side street to where his car was parked. He pushed me against the building. Kissing him is like entering heaven. I don’t even believe in heaven, but that’s what I imagine it feels like. I stepped into the dad car. Still had that new smell. We made out over the middle console. He tugged at my pants. Pulling them down. I laughed. Sat back on my side, untied my Chuck Taylor’s and slide out of my pants. Then I climbed on top of him. I was wet as fuck. More kissing. Both of us commenting on how unreal it was. I slid down on him, slow. It’s always the first plunge that’s the best. Jesus. What is it with him and I? After not long, he asks if he can come. I gave him a breathy yes. And he did. My favorite growl in the world. That fuckin sound is the end of me.

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