R: Rebel Roger

Not wearing a leather jacket, but rebellious in a different way.

The History

Everyone needs to be with a rebel. They don’t live by the rules that are set for them.

I was some form of rebel in this story too because I made the decision go against the grain and found someone online.

That doesn’t seem rebellious but looking at my past, it was.

At the time in this story, I was just starting to begin my endeavor with Eli. I was posting a lot on Whisper (a great anonymous app similar to Instagram) and struck up a conversation with a random guy.

Nothing sexual, nothing fortuitous, nothing serious. A conversation.

And he was really fun to talk to. And really helpful through the entire Eli situation.

So when the Eli situation ended, I really started talking to him.

And agreed to meet up with him at the Shedd Aquarium.

That’s not my style at all, to meet someone in person that I talk to online. I know the horror stories of people meeting up and one of them ending up dead.

But there was something different about this guy.

Anonymity is a funny thing; I find I’m most comfortable when people don’t know who they are talking to.

I am usually more honest with people who have never met me.

And there was no exception with Roger.

We agreed to meet up at the Shedd on a crisp February morning. To cover my butt and to be sure that I was going to at least have a witness to my kidnapping, I asked Brad to join me.

Yes. Best Friend Brad from the beginning of this slutty novella.

“You can bring your girlfriend and be on your own date. I just need someone there for the initial meet and greet so I don’t get abducted.”

“You aren’t going to get abducted. If it makes you feel better, I’ll go and be there.”

And thus, I began the first date ritual of freaking out and figuring out what to wear.

I arrived at the Shedd with no time to spare. Even with that fact, I found myself looking around and sauntering instead of hustling. The air was cool and everywhere was bustling with people.

And I was on the verge of puking from nerves.

I finally messaged Roger and said that I was there. I saw him approach and was relieved to see he was exactly what he said he would look like.

And he had an accent when he said hi.

I am a sucker for accents. And knew from talking to him online that he was from a different country.

But I was instantly taken with anything he said because I wanted to hear him say it.

He could have recited the alphabet and I would have been more than happy.

We walked around the Shedd and watched the dolphin show. The entire time I was overly absorbed in my surroundings. I can honestly say that I didn’t look at him for a long time because I was so enthralled with his voice and overstimulated by the Shedd.

We went through almost the entire Shedd before I finally looked at him.

He had the most amazing green/blue eyes.

And his smile is contagious.

And having all of that sink in was probably the most bizarre feeling I had had in a while.

That’s when I felt my phone buzzing.

I finally looked at my phone to see Brad calling.

And he had called three times before that.

I looked at Roger and said we need to go meet up with them.

“Just so that Brad knows I’m okay.”

Roger nodded and didn’t see too bothered.

“I should probably give you the run down on Brad’s and my relationship.”

Roger cocked his head to one side. “Go ahead.”

I regaled minimal information (I would tell him everything later on) until we finally found Brad.

He had brought his girlfriend Jane and she was getting her face painted.

I walked over to formally meet this girl (who had been ripping Brad’s emotions out and shredding them to bits) and I could tell that she knew all of Brad’s and my history.

Her posture changed. Her smile faded.

She was jealous.

Perfect.

She eventually smiled and nodded.

Brad couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

And I felt a lurch in my stomach.

I still had feelings for Brad that I kept trying to forget about.

I tried to focus and converse with Brad but he never took his eyes off of Jane.

That’s when I felt Roger’s arm slip around my hip.

Which Brad noticed.

I smiled. Jealousy was finally setting in for Brad.

We briefly walked with them until they had to leave.

Brad looked at me and had the look of questioning.

I smiled right back. Payback can be a real bitch.

We made our way to the cafe in the Shedd when Roger finally asked me about the history of Brad.

Which I told him about. Honesty is the best policy after all.

And he was calm about it. No real reaction. Just listening.

We ended up sitting in the cafe for about an hour talking about the world. We talked about feminism, culture, accents, desires, kids.

You know, the usual first date topics.

We continued to walk around the Shedd. We went and looked at the amphibians exhibit (which had crickets in it so I wasn’t a fan) and started to walk around the rest of the Shedd (again).

Which is when we started talking about sex and sweet spots.

He knew a lot about me in terms of my sex life. Since I felt safe talking about anything with him when I felt anonymous, he knew essentially everything.

Aside from that, I was also fine talking about anything he wanted to ask or tell me.

The challenge?

The little kids around.

After the sweet spot conversation, I always had a hand on my hip or in my own hand.

We were finally able to take our seats for the 4-D show and we found our hands intertwined. I caught him smiling at me a few times and looking at me before the show started.

And when the show did start, there wasn’t much difference.

The main thing I remember is that we were holding hands and he brought my hand to his mouth and bit my pointer finger at the second knuckle.

At that point, I swear chills ran up my spine and every sense amplified itself.

And yet, I couldn’t do anything because we were in watching a short film on the migration of sardines.

I was weirdly turned on.

Not by the sardines; by the fact that I had to control myself.

The movie ended and we headed up to the big tank near the front door. It was about three o’clock and we decided to sit down for a while.

We just kept talking.

We talked about romance and what are romantic gestures versus what is expected.

We talked about previous relationships.

We talked about what we notice in other people.

And I was so taken with this man sitting across from me that I could barely contain myself.

The magic Cinderella clock struck 4:30 (which is when I had to leave because it was Super Bowl Sunday and I needed to head home to watch the game with my family).

He walked me to my car which is when I knew I needed to say something about my dogs.

At this point in the story, I’m in a joint custody agreement with my dogs at Good Guy Gus’s.

One is mine. One is his. Both live at the apartment that had both of our name’s on it. Yet I didn’t live there.

And that’s a lot of baggage to handle.

“So can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

I explained the situation as calmly and collectively as I could.

And he wasn’t phased in the slightest.

We finished the trek to the car, paid our parking fees, exchanged phone numbers, and hugged at my car.

And I was on cloud nine the rest of the way home.

We talked the rest of the week. About anything and everything we could possibly get our hands on.

And then we started really talking about sex. And how I didn’t want to not meet his expectations or my own.

To which he had the best response.

“I am attracted to you and there is a lot I’d love to do to you. However I know you are hurt from guys before so I won’t push you towards anything. I’ll just try to get you comfortable around me and take it from there.”

If that’s not the perfect response, I don’t know what is.

We decided, after that conversation, to find time to get together.

Spending a night together.

In a bedroom.

To get me more comfortable.

Or naked. I don’t know which one is more true.

We finally agreed on spending the night in a hotel near my house. To give me an escape if I wanted it.

We decided to get drinks and head to the hotel after.

That’s not exactly what happened.

The Sex

I got ready for that night just I like get ready for any other night that I know the possibility of sex.

It’s a lot of shaving, awkward positions, and soap.

And in this case, hair straightening.

Regardless, I got ready and packed a backpack of clothes for the following day, deodorant, and tooth brush/tooth paste.

I ate dinner with my family, with a lump in my throat the size of Manhattan, and told them I was staying at Raven’s house.

I got into my car and texted Roger that I was heading my way towards the hotel.

My head was reeling that entire eight minute car ride.

Which he seemed to know because he called me to let me know he was there.

I pulled up into the parking lot and parked a few spots down from him. I got out of my car with my backpack and he looked at me.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Clothes and stuff for tomorrow.”

“We’re spending the night?”

The fuck did he mean by that?

He was going to fuck me and leave?

He saw that I was getting angry.

“I was planning on spending the night. We have a hotel room and my parents think I’m at someone’s house.”

“I don’t mind spending the night. I just didn’t know if you had a curfew.”

That was the first time I noticed the age difference between Roger and I.

Roger is three years older than me (at this time, I’m 24) but he is what most people would call more “successful.”

He got his degree at UIUC, is a financial analyst at a bank, and owns a three flat of apartments.

And in the time that I had talked to him, I never felt like I was that much younger.

Until the curfew comment.

“No, my parents think I’m at a friend’s house so I have all night.”

Take that, you old coot.

We headed up to the hotel room at about 7:30 for me to drop off my bag.

I eventually flopped onto the bed and just stared at the wall.

He came and laid next to me, arm between my rib cage and hips.

I don’t really know what we talked about in the next ten minutes.

I was staring at the picture on the wall.

No matter what angle I looked at the picture, I couldn’t figure out what it was. There was a red circle shape in the middle and tan and green shapes around it.

And for some reason, that was so much more interesting than the hot foreign guy next to me.

“Do you want to go get drinks?”

“I don’t really care.” Which I didn’t. I couldn’t figure out this picture.

“Can you at least look at me?”

I finally turned my head to see his gorgeous eyes.

And we crashed into a kiss.

And I completely forgot about the picture on the wall.

The next details get a little hazy. My bra came off, as did almost every other piece of my clothing.

He laid me down on the bed and spent a while just kissing me and playing with my nipples between his teeth.

He kissed his way down to my underwear (the only piece of clothing still on me) and slid them off.

He looked down at my clit piercing (which he knew about) and looked back up at me.

“Do you want some advice?”

He half-smiled. “I’ll take any advice I can get.”

“It’s like any other clit. I’ve just given you a target to aim for.”

Being that blunt was relatively uncharacteristic of me but I wasn’t caring about characteristics. I was naked and about to get eaten out.

And at first I wasn’t very surprised.

Guys do the same thing every time.

They go in hard, fast, and expecting it to work within seconds.

That’s not how that works. It might be for some females but it doesn’t work like that for me.

But then he slowed down and teased me a lot.

“Let’s go.” I propped myself up and looked at him.

“I’m not going to get any help getting undressed?”

“No. Let’s go.”

I took him off guard but he didn’t question anything. He quickly got undressed and laid down next to me.

Crap. I knew where this was going.

I just sucked it up (no pun really intended). And it was a lot of fun to actually hear his reactions.

Eventually, he rolled on a condom (he wasn’t very enthused about it but respected that I wasn’t on birth control), laid me down in missionary, and slid inside.

And I was so excited that I grabbed the back of his head and collided into a kiss.

We switched positions a few times before I offered to be on top.

And for some reason, I enjoyed having all of the control.

I would hover with just the tip inside of me, his arms pinned above his head, and then slide down as slow as I could until he was all the way inside me.

I’d squeeze the walls of my pussy and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

I slid back up until it was just the tip inside again.

“What if I just stayed like this?” I bit my lip and stared at his eyes.

“That’s just cruel.”

Eventually I just kept riding up and down after a few more times of teasing.

Which is when I started biting into his shoulder.

Which left huge purple hickeys.

We kept switching positions (missionary, doggie, and some weird position where I was laying down on my stomach with my legs together and he just kept pile driving me).

When we’d hit the wall of physical exhaustion, we’d lay next to each other and he’d keep his fingers trailing in and around my pussy.

After being in a daze from that experience, we finally went and got drinks at the bar down the street from the hotel.

We stayed there until they closed and headed back to the hotel.

And had more of the same sex.

Lots of me teasing. Lots of him getting excited. Lots of me wanting to be in control.

We fell asleep around 3.

I woke up about 7.

And he was snoring like a baby grizzly bear.

It was somehow endearing even though it kept me up the rest of the morning.

Sometime around nine, he rolled over and pulled me close.

Which is when something really didn’t feel right.

I had built up this guy to be an amazing human who could potentially be a soul mate or someone I could spend a substantial amount of time with.

And in that moment of him rolling over to pull me close, I felt awful.

Like this wasn’t supposed to be happening this fast.

I felt like a slut.

He started kissing my neck and told me good morning.

He asked if I wanted to continue our adventure from last night.

I turned and looked at him.

He grew concerned.

“If you want to, I have to go get more condoms anyway. I can get anything else that you need.”

I just kept staring.

“Talking is usually a good thing to start with if you want me to understand what’s going through that pretty little head of yours.”

“We can.”

That’s pretty much all I could say.

Because I wanted sex. But I always want sex so that didn’t mean much.

He smiled. “As long as you don’t leave while I’m gone.”

I hadn’t really even considered that until he said it.

I could just leave.

But I felt that I needed to stay.

Maybe I hadn’t given Roger enough of a chance.

He left to go buy more condoms and a toothbrush for himself.

I brushed my teeth, cleaned up the hotel room some, and laid back in bed.

He finally came back and we had more of the same sex.

Where I just felt awful the whole time.

And I finally figured out why.

I felt like I knew virtually nothing about Roger where he knew every important thing about me.

We eventually went to get breakfast before he had to drive back home.

From that moment on, it was an awkward conversation path between Roger and I.

We would go get drinks somewhere where he’d say all of the sweet-talking things that I wanted to hear.

We’d sleep together.

He’d leave.

And then wouldn’t talk to me for a few days.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Eventually, I never heard from Roger again.

Because one time we went to get drinks and I didn’t want to go to a hotel room for sex and to be left.

And I haven’t heard from him since.

Which I’ve found I’m really okay with because I didn’t know virtually anything about him.

The Moral of the Story

A rebel is someone who goes against the grain.

My rebel was against the grain for me.

Because while I had feelings for a short amount of time, I eventually had no feelings because I knew nothing about him.

It was like having a one night stand that kept happening.

Think like the movie Groundhog’s Day.

A Closing Note to Roger

I really hope that somewhere along the way you find someone who appreciates everything that you do.

I don’t know what that everything is.

But I guarantee that somewhere along the way someone is going to love everything that you do.

Even if it is buy her drinks, have sex, and leave.