Posts Tagged ‘finding the man of your dreams’
by hannah
July 1st, 2010
From Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Spring Season (CHAPTER 12: POST-EJACULATORY REMORSE)
Mr. Smyth and I have sunk into the big black velvet C-shaped cushions that make up our private booth in a private corner of the Asian restaurant we’re at. The large floor-to-ceiling red curtains have cut us off from the rest of the world, and Mr. Smyth keeps saying things like: “We should see each other more often than this.”
I keep smooching on him, wondering why I was ever worried about my future, or about whether I did the right thing by not returning the couple voicemails The Ex left me after the incident in the elevator.
The conversation has gone from the incessantly bad L.A. traffic that led to my accident, to that being why we should all work at home and ride more bicycles, to why I never pursued my passion for fashion design, to how enlightening Mr. Smyth’s trip to India was a couple of years ago. I go from laughing about how a small tribe of kids robbed him of all his rupees at a restaurant in Delhi to pouring my heart out over how my dad convinced me into a “stable” yet completely unfulfilling career. I let him order all the tapas because I trust he knows what I want, and he lets me feed him because he finds it endearing that I hold my chopsticks with two hands.
Mr. Smyth lifts the large decanter off the table and pours more red wine into our glasses. He replaces the decanter and puts his hand back with the other one…between my thighs.
I lift my glass off the table. “You know, David, here I am warming your hands…and I don’t even really know what you do for a living.” I gingerly take a sip. “All you’ve ever said is that you’re an ‘independent contractor.’ For all I know, that could mean you’re a hit man. You just came back from some family reunion in New York, after all.”
“Ahhh, except hit men don’t have family reunions in Manhattan—they have them in more low-key areas like upstate New York.” Mr. Smyth runs his hands leisurely over my freshly shaven legs. “I have no family in upstate New York.” And then he leans in to whisper in my ear: “But I do have an alias.”…
by hannah
June 29th, 2010
I’ve never had sex in an airplane. One of my boyfriends once masturbated sitting next to me on a flight; apparently I was sleeping and missed it. Another time, when I was flying an airplane (yes, I used to fly airplanes) I gave the guy I was seeing a hand job. Don’t freak, I was being safe; the sky was clear, the plane was on autopilot, and he didn’t take long… But no sex.
I always wondered how people got way with it… Unless you were on some private chartered jet wasn’t it too obvious? But the biggest problem, I’d never had the fortune of sitting next to anyone I was attracted to. I’d had plenty of great conversations with interesting people, but none I ever felt compelled to shag until this one flight from Denver to LA.
It was late, and there wasn’t a lot of people standing in line to get on the B777. I noticed a tall, young, well-built blond and immediately thought: I won’t get to sit next to him. Because that seemed to be my other plight, if there was a hot guy I noticed getting on a plane, I never got to sit by him. This time turned out different…
by hannah
June 22nd, 2010
As a general rule: No, you should never “settle” when it comes to finding a lover, partner, boyfriend, or husband. You want someone that can satisfy you, is compatible with you, and that you’re attracted. But I totally understand where 37% of you are coming from, because at the opposite end of the settling spectrum is idealism, which can be just as destructive as settling as far as I’m concerned.
Let me give you an example. But first, a little background. In the Sex, Life, & Hannah series, Hannah has an older sister, Holly, who’s a bit of an intimidating force to be reckoned with (at least in Hannah’s mind). She ran off with their dad’s boss when she was 18, and then he croaked, and then…well let’s just say that Holly’s idea of settling has only to do with estate settlements.
In real life, I have a younger sister, Maggie, who’s a bit of a tortured artist. She’s a pianist, music composer, and likes to dress (and look up to) Elvira. She also has very rigid ideas about the “type” of guy she will date…
