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Love Stories @ RomanceClass -
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About three years ago I met the man of my dreams at a friend's house. I was there with another friend and didn't really pay all that much attention to him, even though I had heard tons of complimentory comments from mutal friends. What can I say? I just wasn't looking to hook up with anyone.
Then about three months ago I had ran into one of his aquaintances and we started to date. Worst mistake of my dating career! While casually dating "the friend" I got to know "Mr. Right" quite well. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Anytime I was with "the friend" I was thinking of "Mr.Right" and wanting to go over to his place, hang out and see him. So I kinda told "the friend" how I felt. As much about the feelings I was having for his friend as I could. Then I preceded to slowly put the moves on "Mr. Right". Anytime I hung out with him I would file away information I thought I could use in my pursuit for the true happiness I thought could only come from him. Then one night I got extremely drunk with him and a couple friends. Slowly I watched him in an inebriated haze as I mustered up my liquid courage, and plopped my foot into his lap from under the table. Maybe, he was scared too. Or maybe he thought it was natural, but I didn't exactly get the reaction I was hoping for. After a few more minutes went by he finally started to acknowledge the presence of my foot by gently rubbing it to sleep. That was the sign I was waiting for! He's not disgusted by me! At least not by my sluggish appendage. And what did I do to celebrate this momentous occassion? I got up and walked over to him and sat in his lap facing him and practically passed out with my face smashed into his neck. Sexy huh? Trying to regain some semi-balence of dignity I tried to whisper vixen-like into his ear. Instead the room started to spin and the various types of alcohol mixed together into a nauseating surge that catapulted me off his lap and onto the bathroom floor. After revisiting every meal, I passed out on that floor for nearly two hours. Little did I know that "Mr. Right" had taken on the responsibilty to periodically check on me and then finally, realizing I wasn't getting up, carried me to his bedroom and tucked me into his bed. Hours after that he finally came into his bedroom and laid down next to me. Nothing sexual happened for the first 5 minutes or so that he laid down. I was awake and mostly sober by this point. And waiting! Finally, I felt his hand brush back a strand of my hair, tuck it behind my ear. Then he paused, letting out a deep sigh. Fearing that he would pull away and fall asleep without trying, I opened my eyes reached out and grabbed his hand. It was dark but I could make out the outline of his face so I put the hand that I had grabbed on my hip, and scooted myself as close to him as I would possibly dare. I'll never forget his line: "How awake are you?" Being the fine gentleman that he is he hadn't wanted to take advantage of an obviously intoxicated young lady. I answered his question by kissing him like I wanted to all along. Our friendship has only gotten stronger through this ordeal and we've had a lot of talks about where we are going with this. We are trying to set an even pace that won't burn out. We are being as open and honest about our feelings as possible. When I say 'as possible' we both get those "honeymoon moments" we just try to remember that it's only been a month. Even though we feel like we've known each other all of our lives. Sappy huh?






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