Dieting Makes Cathy Crazy

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Dieting Makes Cathy Crazy Page 7

by Sally Redwood


  “Is that all?”

  “For now.”

  “Okay.”

  She makes our drinks. My confidence is fading fast. There’s a long pause between me and the man of my dreams. I watch him carefully to see if he checks her out.

  What’s wrong with me? It’s none of my business if he does. I have no right to be jealous. But I don’t think it’s too much to have his undivided attention. I am planning on sleeping with this man after all.

  But maybe that’s an awful idea. Am I emotionally equipped enough to go through with this? Probably not. Would that stop me? Probably not.

  I glance across the room and notice Zoe talking to her coworker again. Maybe she’s contemplating breaking her rule tonight. And maybe I should walk away without breaking my own.

  The bartender hands us our drinks. She smiles like the happiest emoji as the sexy man pays for our drinks and slides her a twenty-dollar tip. Either he’s being nice or he wants to fuck her.

  The cynical side of me leans towards the latter. What was I thinking coming over here in the first place? He can have any woman in this whole place. He only bought me a drink to be nice.

  “Thanks for the drink. But…I need to catch up with my friend.”

  “Oh. Well, it was nice to meet you.”

  He definitely isn’t into me. If he wanted me to stick around, he’d say so. He almost seems in a hurry to send me away. Maybe he’s just anxious to get back to the bartender, or maybe I’m over analyzing this shit, like I tend to do with everything else.

  But this was fun. I just hit on this random guy. I did something outside the box. Now it’s time for me to go back to Zoe. At least we can have a good laugh about it.

  I pick up my drink and wave goodbye at him. I don’t need this third martini, but I’m going to down it like water. And I don’t need to stick around this irresistible man but my feet won’t budge.

  “Um …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I hate when people do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Just tell me what’s on your mind, beautiful?”

  Beautiful. Does he really think I’m beautiful? I wonder how much he’s had to drink already. Apparently more than me. I sip the martini.

  “I’ll hang out with you for a second, if that’s alright. My friend seems a little occupied at the moment.”

  He smiles. “Well, that makes me happy, I didn’t want you to go.”

  I motion my head towards the bartender at the other end of the bar.

  “I’m pretty sure somebody would have kept you company.”

  “Sorry. But I like my women natural. No plastic parts.”

  I’m pretty sure that I’m far more natural than what he has in mind. There’s not an ounce of silicone in my body. My tits and my ass are real. And the same goes for my cellulite, stretch marks, and love handles.

  This guy is probably used to dating perfect 10s. But maybe he’s feeling a little more adventurous tonight. Damn, I hope so. And maybe I won’t look so bad in the dark, under the sheets…

  He drinks his whiskey. His mouth is so sexy. I could just stare at his lips all night. At this point, it doesn’t matter what he says—I would probably nod my head in agreement.

  “I haven’t been out in a long time.”

  “Really?”

  “No. I work a lot. Even on the weekends. Not because I have to but because… Oh shit. I’m probably boring you.”

  “I’ll let you know when I’m bored.”

  He flashes a big smile that makes me feel like kissing him. Everything he does is so fucking tempting. I could lose myself in those hazel eyes. As a matter of fact, it’s too late. That ship has sailed.

  I glance down at his shiny black helmet. Then, I look back up at his handsome face. I wish I could stop staring at him. No I don’t. I’m loving every second of this.

  “So, you ride a motorcycle?”

  He nods.

  “Your insurance must be through the roof. Those things are very dangerous.”

  “Sometimes you need a little danger just to know you’re alive.”

  “I don’t know about all of that.”

  He takes a long drink.

  “You ever been on a bike before?”

  “No. Never. Like I said, I think it’s too dangerous.”

  “You should try it sometime. There’s nothing like the thrill of it. When you feel the roar of that engine between your legs, you’re gonna love it.”

  “I don’t even know anybody with a motorcycle.”

  “You know me.”

  “We just met.”

  “That’s okay. We’re getting to know each other.”

  “True. So are you single? Married? You have a girlfriend? What’s your situation?”

  He laughs.

  “What?”

  “You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  The only reason why I care about his relationship status is because I want to know what I’m walking into. As much as I’m attracted to him, I draw the line at married men. But if he doesn’t have a wife, I’m game.

  I just don’t want to be a home wrecker. Although I doubt I’d be wrecking anybody’s home with my vanilla sex. He’d probably go rushing back into his wife’s arms the moment we’re through.

  “I’m divorced.”

  “Oh.”

  There must be something in the air. This is the second divorced guy I’ve met tonight. Now, I brace myself for stories about his ex-wife being a conniving bitch, and how he can barely afford child support.

  This isn’t what I signed up for. I just want some fun. Why can’t I attract that? Maybe I need to be more spontaneous like Zoe. And to think, that’s exactly what I thought I was doing.

  But unlike the Uber driver, the handsome stranger holding a glass of whiskey is a man I couldn’t refuse. I just hope he doesn’t get all weird on me. I might need a fourth martini for that.

  “It’s been three years.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.” No, I’m not sorry, actually. It’s her loss. And hopefully my gain. Hopefully.

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t messy or anything. It’s not like we had kids.”

  “That would have made things more complicated for sure.”

  “We just had different goals in life, just sad that we found that out a few years in to tying the knot… Stop me if I’m talking too much about it.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “How about you? What’s your situation?”

  “I’m single. Very single.”

  “You expect me to believe that? A woman as beautiful as you.”

  The blood rushes to my cheeks. He just called me beautiful again. And I can tell he meant it by the way his hazel eyes softened. Oh God. I’m about to melt.

  “Well, I broke up with my ex about five months ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “Exactly five months ago. He wanted burgers and I didn’t. Go figure?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You say the most random stuff, but I kinda like it.”

  “You do?”

  He nods.

  “You seem like the kind of woman who’s a deep thinker.”

  “Sometimes, I’ve been accused of overthinking things.”

  “Happens to the best of us.”

  “It happens to me all the time.”

  He smiles.

  “Maybe you should loosen up a little.”

  “I think I’ve been pretty loose tonight already. I don’t usually approach men in bars.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I know when people say they don’t usually do something, they’re most likely lying. But I’m not.”

  “That makes me feel special.”

  “I’m sure women hit on you all the time.”

  He smiles. “Women are getting a little more aggressive these days. But I don’t mind. A girl should go for what she wants.”

/>   “You think so?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’ve been conditioned by society to do the exact opposite.”

  “You know what I say?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Fuck society. You only live once.”

  And in my case, you only live for a few more months. No matter what I do to get my mind off of my diagnosis, there’s no escaping it. I take a long drink of gin.

  I’m probably a few sips away from being totally drunk. But I can still hold a conversation. It’s probably the greasy food in my digestive track that’s shielding me from utter fucking oblivion. Aahhh…grease.

  There’s a pause. Not an awkward one. But it’s clearly a pause. I see this as my opening to cut to the chase. I’ve found out everything I need to know.

  He’s handsome as fuck. He smells good. He doesn’t sound like an idiot. In fact, he’s actually smart. He thinks I’m beautiful. That’s more than enough for me.

  “Hey, um…do you wanna take me home?”

  His hazel eyes are wide.

  “When I said a woman should go for what she wants, you took that to another level.”

  Fuck. Is this his way of saying no. Am I being too direct? Should I have batted my eyelashes and rubbed my boobs against his arm instead? I’m so bad at this that it’s almost laughable.

  Here I am, throwing myself at this perfect stranger, and he’s not even jumping at the chance. I feel like such a fool. Where the hell is that bartender? I desperately need a refill.

  Speaking of desperate…I have never felt more pitiful in my life. But the bright side is that I don’t have much longer on this planet so I won’t have to suffer the embarrassment for long. And with any luck, I’ll never run into this guy again.

  He touches my hand and looks deep into my eyes. This must be the ol’ let her down easy approach. Okay. Maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world. At least I tried.

  “Actually, I…”

  “Look…”

  “Actually, I would love to take you home. It’s just…”

  Did he just say what I think he said? Is that a yes? I wasn’t expecting this at all. I’m so nervous all of the sudden. Am I really ready? I think so. How could I not be?

  “I was wondering if you could at least tell me your name first.”

  “Oh. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m Cathy.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Cathy. I’m Angelo.”

  He wraps his strong arm around me. I’m in heaven. Is this about to happen? God, I hope so.

  Chapter Nine

  Angelo and I walk out of the bar together. The air is cool. Within seconds, there are chill bumps up and down my arms. He smiles at me knowingly. Oh that smile!

  “Here.”

  Without asking, he just takes off his jacket and puts it on me. I feel warm again, instantly. His touch. The martinis. It’s a perfect combination. And this is the longest I’ve gone without thinking about…

  He holds my hand. His fingers are big and rough. These are the kinds of hands that can fix anything…even my broken vagina. For all I know it might be in disrepair. It’s been so long since any man has come near it.

  I wonder if this is typical behavior. Holding hands? Offering a jacket? I thought one night stands were totally transactional. This affection is a pleasant surprise. But I try not to read too much into it. He might be like this all the time.

  I look up at him, wondering a zillion things. Am I really about to go home with a man whose last name I don’t even know? Is Angelo really his first name? These are unchartered waters to say the least.

  We approach a black and silver motorcycle parked at the curb. I pause and shake my head.

  “I’m not getting on that thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Remember, I told you how I feel about motorcycles.”

  “How else are you going to get to my place?”

  “Um, there’s always Uber. Or Lyft. I like Uber better.”

  He laughs. “Come on.”

  He pulls me close to him. My heart is beating so fast that I think paramedics should be on standby. He looks deep into my eyes.

  “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. You’re with me.”

  And just like that, he leans in for a kiss. The second our lips touch, it’s electric. I swear. And he really knows how to work his tongue. My panties are so wet I wonder if I peed on myself. I think I could cum just like this.

  Oh God, this feels good. He wraps his arms around my waist. Oh no, I hope he doesn’t feel my love handles. How can I think about that right now? The most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on is making out with me!

  He pulls away and whispers in my ear.

  “Are you coming with me or what?”

  I smile wide. “Fuck it!”

  He hands me his helmet.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “How do I put this thing on?”

  “I got you.”

  He helps me squeeze my head into the plastic thing. I’m pretty sure I look like a creature from outer space. He grins at me. The way he looks right now, I’d fuck him with this helmet on.

  He gets on the bike and revs up the engine. “Climb on.”

  I slide onto the seat behind him.

  “Wrap your arms around me.”

  I obey him, holding his chest. He’s ripped. I can tell. I’ve never dated a man with a body like this or even had the courage to try.

  “Tighter! I don’t want you to fall!”

  I hold him closer. It feels so good. If I die tonight, it’ll all be worth it. And best of all, nobody will ever find out about Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. But I hope I don’t croak before I get in his pants. His butt feels amazing.

  The engine purrs. It does feel powerful between my legs, just the way Angelo described. It’s almost like a giant vibrator. Oh fuck! This is the second time I’ve been on the verge of a climax in the presence of this beautiful man.

  He speeds out of the parking lot. I scream. This is way too much stimulation. He shouts over the engine. “You okay?!”

  “I think so!”

  “Good girl, Cathy!”

  Good girl? Good girls don’t go home with strangers. Good girls don’t ride motorcycles. Good girls don’t get plastered at the bar. Tonight I’m anything but a good girl.

  The wind blows on my face through the open visor as he zooms down the street. There aren’t many cars out. It’s late. Who knows exactly what time it is? I lost track hours ago.

  I’m screaming like a little bitch every time he makes a turn. It feels like we’re going to dip into the cement. I’m pretty sure I’ve done major damage to his eardrums.

  A few minutes later, we pull up in front of a brownstone in the swanky part of town. There’s a ramp in the back that leads down in to a garage. The door is already opening as we reach it. We park and he helps me off the motorcycle and then helps me with the helmet. The moment he takes me by the hand, I am calm again. It’s a lovely garage…lots of tools…and two more bikes. It must be a hobby. He probably fixes and sells them.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  I nod.

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  What exactly does he mean? Is he implying that he might want to see me again after tonight? Probably not. Chances are, he’s just speaking in general terms.

  But the way my mind works makes me wonder. I guess this is yet another reason why I’ve never had a one night stand before. I prefer several dates … dinners at chain restaurants, goofy movies, stuff like that. Then, after I get to know the guy and he makes it clear that he’s ready to be monogamous, then that’s the time to reach for the condoms. But not a second sooner. Am I a prude? Am I too fussy? Should I take what I can get? Should I take my pussy off of its pedestal?

  I follow Angelo up a flight of stairs and at the top we enter a nice open space with a living room on the left and what seems to be a kitchen on the right. The chairs in the living room are
those leather ones with rivets. Fixing bikes seems to have been good to him. They must be fancy bikes.

  He stops suddenly and turns to face me with this weird expression on his face. I’m almost afraid to ask what’s wrong.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He smiles.

  “I just can’t believe that I got to go home with the hottest girl at the bar.”

  I try not to laugh. I’m about to give him some pussy no matter what. It’s not necessary for him to lie. Hottest girl at the bar…yeah right.

  “You see what you do to me …”

  He takes my hand and guides it down to the huge bulge in his crotch. Oh my God! His cock must be massive! I hope it’s not so big that it doesn’t fit. Only one way to find out.

  He pushes me against the wall and kisses me again. He’s all over. My lips. My neck. My cleavage. He starts to unbutton my shirt. Damn. We’re gonna do it right here on the floor. I don’t really care, I want him right now!

  He takes me by the hand and leads me up another flight of stairs. There’s another living room here, even nicer than the last one. It looks really well decorated, surprisingly so. I wasn’t expecting any of this. I was expecting a one-bedroom in the shitty part of town.

  But it’s not like I would have cared anyway. I would probably open my legs to Angelo surrounded by rats and hissing cockroaches. Well, maybe that’s a stretch…or maybe not.

  He pulls me closer to him. I can feel his erection between my thighs. Fuck! I’ve never wanted a man this bad before in all my life.

  His hands are all over me. Cuffing my ass and touching between my thighs. I moan and sigh. He’s grabbing me like one of those dudes in an erotica novel with no plot.

  “I … I’ve never done this before.”

  He looks at me.

  “Wait. You’re a virgin?”

  “That would be pretty sad. No, I’m not a virgin. But this is my first one night stand. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I hope it doesn’t ruin anything. Fuck.”

  He smiles. “I think it’s perfect.”

  “You do?”

  “I like how you just tell me what’s on your mind. I’m the same way.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  He runs his fingers through my hair.

  “You’re so beautiful, Cathy.”

  “You really think so?”

 

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