ON POPPING MY BRITISH CHERRY

So now that I've finished my rant about women having the right do to whatever the fuck they want with their vaginas I decided to go out for a rage and.. well.. do whatever the fuck I wanted with my vagina.

So I met up with my london gal pal and partner in crime, Charlotte, and we headed out into the night equipped with our wedges, lipgloss and predrink buzz.

We ended up at this bar that mostly smelt like vomit with potent drinks (hence the vomit smell) and an... erratic DJ.
Seriously I have to assume this guy was trippin balls on ritalin laced with acid because his music selection was just.. impossible. We're talking savage garden followed by old school beastie boys then backstreet boys then just compilations of lasers and dying animals.

And the crowd was loving it! There was some serious raging going on on the dance floor.

At first I felt that I was a littttle out of my element. But then I said fuck it, theres booze, how out of my element could I be?

3 hours later we were smashed, had lost 5 of the 7 people we'd arrived with and were ready to crawl back home. Charlotte stopped to bum a ciggy off of some fine gentleman from Australia and that's when I met him.

His name is Nathaniel.

Nathaniel.

Seriously?

I must be in England because that's a fancy ass name. And he looked fancy to match it. Despite the messy sort of night we'd had and the messy sort of bar we were in, Nathaniel was still perfectly pressed in a crisp white shirt that was tucked into jeans that cost more than my monthly rent. And don't even get me started on his perfect fucking face.

Needless to say we did not go home and get into our jammies like good girls should, noooo, we stayed and had more drinks and then when we were really tired we went back to Charlottes house and had a few more drinks.

That's about the time that Nathaniel, in very polite and proper fashion, invited me home with him.

Well. It's gotta happen some time and if I have to pick someone to pop my British cherry with I'm gonna take a guy that looks like he belongs in a magazine.

So we head off and we're chatting and then it slips out. He's a bit younger than me. I think, not a big deal, if you remember I just had Giles, the 20 year old, back home. Young is clearly not a problem for me.

No biggie.

So we get home and have some really glorious sex. This was not a Giles re-do, this kid knew exactly what he was doing.

*sigh*

The sad thing about great sex is that it always has to come to an end.

Which it did. But in the morning I got to have round 2,3 and 4. So I guess I can't really complain ;)

And in the morning we're lying there in post-mind-blowing-sex glory and we start chatting some more and I'm being nosy and looking around his immaculate room in his immaculate apartment and I spy a yearbook.

I love yearbooks (I was editor in chief of mine) so I grab it to leaf through and look at what a fancy English boarding school looks like when I catch sight of something terrifying.

"2012"

....

It's printed across the front of the yearbook in great big golden letters.

So, trying not to have a full freak out, I casually ask "is this yours?"

He tells me yes, and I say "but it says 2012" and he says "yeah. I graduated in June."

As in.. June 2012. As in this past June. As in the kid I just spent hours having sex with was graduating high school a year after I graduated from college.

This prompted a litttttle bit of a freak out which led to him telling me that it's fine... he's old for his year, he's been 19 for ages.

Somehow that just didn't make me feel better.

Anyways, on that horrifying note I found it was about that time to put my pants back on and crawl back to Charlottes so that I could try to sleep away some of the shame.

Naps had no effect unfortunately.

Once I made it home and had brushed out the sex-induced knots in my hair and told the story to a few friends it didn't seem so bad and now I'm basically over the shock and into the phase where I pat myself on the back for pulling a hot guy who's actually awesome in bed.

Good job Kitty. Good to know the move hasn't hurt your game. If anything, in fact, it seems to have upped your skillz. I'm slightly more confident now. Still need to get a job and figure out all this relocation stuff but hey, at least I've got one thing down pat.

xxKK

RECAP AND CATCH UP

Hey kids,

Long time no see. My fault, I know. I've been a little MIA for the past, oh I dunno, 3 months. But I had this whole debacle happen with Skip and Eric and then some work drama and moving drama and moving away from New York drama and it just all got a little much.

But its still not fair. I promised debauchery! And things are a little different now so I don't know how much of that promise I'll be able to keep but by god I will try.

Let's catch up.

So Skip found out that I had hooked up with Eric and stopped talking to me.

I vowed never again to see Eric but then Skip still didn't talk to/ forgive me so when Eric invited me out for his birthday I went.

That "early night" turned into triple shots of jager and crawling back into Erics bed.

Eric, instead of being fun drunk, decided to get all deep and emotional and thats not really my thing so that was a buzzkill. He still tried to insist on birthday sex... and we sort of did but he was drunk and couldn't keep up so my birthday present to him was pretending it was good for me.

After that he started texting and calling me all the time. Started talking about how he knew all the guys I slept with. In a creepy he-remembers-better-than-I-do way. Told half the people I know that we were dating and the other half that we had soooo much sex.

This was a clingy situation and, frankly, not to my liking so I cut him from my roster.

Run into Skip a few days later and he's completely find with me. like no problem at all. Because he wasn't mad.. no of course not.. he was just busy with his new job. I mean... why would he be mad that I was hanging out with his best friend? Right?

Yeah...

That awkward answer led to him asking if I'd slept with Eric... it's a small town. People talk. I wasn't going to lie to him! So I told Skip the truth and then he was mad for real.

But whatever.

You can't sex breakup with me and then get mad when I sleep with your best friend! I mean I get that it was kind of slutty but it's not like I knew who he was when I met him. Gosh.

After that I took some detours along the slutty train to make out with some ex-coworkers and a boy in a hot tub.

Then I took a trip to uncharted territory.

I became a cougarette.

I was partying with some boys I know from high school and they had this hot guy I'd never seen before with them. And he gave me that look. The one that lets you know that they want to take you home. And they get what they want.

I wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such a look.

I swooned.

Now lemme paint you a little picture. This guy, looked like Josh Harnett, circa 2002, with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.

Spitting image. 

Swoon with me this time kids.

So we start talking and its charged and sexual and he invites me to an afterparty where we make out until one of my old buddies from HS tells me exactly who I'm kissing.

This is Giles... Charlie's baby cousin. Who is 20. Who just turned 20. And is three years younger than me and related to my very serious ex.

I tell Giles this isnt a good idea but hey, he's young, they're second cousins and he's very persuasive.

So we go back to his apartment and I learn that some kids just don't know how to use what god gave them.

So disappointing.

But at least I got to look at that beautiful face while I was disappointed.

The next morning Giles tried to get my number so we could hang out and I laughed a little and  then told him I was leaving in two days. He was sad, but that's to be expected. Oh well.

Two days later Skip calls and wants to get together on my last night at home. I think we're gonna make up and... make up... but after a drink that I stretched a painful 2 hours and a rousing conversation about my big move he kissed me on the cheek and wished me well.

What the fuck?

You don't just call up a sex buddy that you aren't speaking to for drinks and then not sleep with them. It's just mean.

So being a child I instantly texted one of my guys friends, Austin, about my disappointing turn of events and he invited me over to remedy the situation.

Now... this was a little out of the blue. I mean I've known Austin since I was 14 and other than this one time when I was 15 where I made out with him for like 20 seconds I haven't had any interaction like that with him before. We're buddies. He helps me with my inability to fill motor vehicles with fuel and I provide witty commentary and banter.

But I was bored, super stressed about the move and 5 minutes from him so I threw on my sweat pants and went to Austins.

He greeted me in basketball shorts and a wifebeater, looking pretty fine, and then we just chilled out for 2 hours. We were sort of watching Transformers but that just turned into my ragging on Megan Fox and her bitchy cheekbones so after a while he turned it off and asked what I wanted to do.

Well... you know me..

Anyways I won't give you the details because this is just an overview, a quick catch up and it's getting pretty long, but I will say that it was the best fucking stress relief I've ever had. And Austin is fucking mad cool so I'm really hoping that we continue to... help each other out... whenever I'm home.

He's one of like... 3 people I talk to regularly from home.

Well.

That was summer back home. I have one story from my brief visit back to New York and a load of stuff to tell you about my new home but for now I'll just bid you adieu and say I've missed you and I hope that you're still checking in every now and then, even if I did desert you for a few months.

Love love love.

xxKK