A good job?

Evening gents

This weeks blog starts last Thursday night. My boss and I go out for dinner with 2 of her friends, a boy and a girl. I am miserable as it feels an awful lot like a double date. a) the other bloke is wet and has become 'best mates' with the other girl b) my boss looks at me and smiles like she likes me far too often. One good thing that has come of this is that I am playing the 'you make far more money than I do so you pay for everything because they are your friends' card. Free sushi and what turns out to be some proper weird, but good (you be the judge), nosh. The other guy buuggers off after dinner around 9, leaving me with the two girls. Head to a bar and nail some gin. I feel trapped and the only way to make it better is by drinking. Start chatting to a really ugly girl at the bar. I don't care. I am trying to prove a point to my boss that I am single. She doesn't really get the hint and laughs at me for hitting on this fat black girl. This makes me drink more (on her credit card). Next bar. More drinks, get stuck into a good looking middle aged woman in front of my boss. She's loving it, and is touching my chest whilst giggling. My boss sees and pretends to ignore it. So I carry on. The woman goes to the toilet, but the other two want to go. Move on to a bar with a dance floor. Decent. See the bird I fingered three weeks before in there. Start chatting, going well. She claims she never saved my number and so I give it to her again. Tell her to text me, knowing full well she won't, and I won't text her, and the next time I see her I will be hammered and will hit on her again. Try to take her round back for a cheeky kiss (and maybe a digit?) but she's off with her mate.

This night is a bit hazy to me, as it's now 3am. Boss' mate is meant to be staying too, but ends up getting her little sister (a year older than me) to come pick us up. Obviously plough out some shit chat on her from the back seat with my boss next to me and her mate in the front.

Along the lines of: 'so Alex, you around all summer?'
'yeah I am'
'which bars do you tend to go to?'
she giggles 'I tend to hang out in bar 86'
'That place is cool, but the girls aren't anything special...'

My boss gives me a really shocked look and turns and punches me on the arm. I go quiet. But I will be seeing the sister again in bar 86. Get to mine a few minutes later and get in. Go to the toilet and get back and my boss is naked on my bed.

Now boys, I know what you're thinking. And after a chat with Bruce on Saturday, I'm thinking the same. She features far too much in this blog. She does. But what happens next is pretty funny:

'Eat my pussy'
I do.
'Put a finger in my ass hole'
I do.
'Suck your finger'
Wow. Ok. Err, I suck the other finger and not the one that's been in her pooper.
'Put your cock in my mouth'
I do. She reaches round and puts a finger up my arse. I've had this before, so not the weirdest experience of my life. (made all the more amusing as I had a massive dump earlier and doubt I wiped properly) She takes her finger out and stops sucking me off. She heads even further round. My boss starts licking my arse hole. Yep. She is giving me a rim job. And she doesn't stop for a good 15 minutes. How I will be able to take her seriously in the work place the next day I don't know.

I don't know how many of you have had a rim job before, but it feels a little like constantly dabbing your bum with toilet tissue which you've wetted with warm water, try it, see if you like it. I am going to admit this: I kind of did.

In my drunk state I decide to return the favour, and spend the next 30 seconds doing so before I spend 10 minutes stabbing wildly at her arse hole with my penis. I pass out.

Wake up the next morning and my mouth literally tastes like bum. Work goes badly on my hangover, and even worse when I get caught watching the England game at my desk. "I wouldn't mind if England were actually a good team, but they aren't so get back to work" A double blow from the head of department.

Due to a severe lack of funding and sever hangover, Friday night is shit and I can't be arsed. Go to bed. Wake up the next day and go on a run and head over to the lake to sunbathe in the afternoon. It's about 36 degrees so I really get my burn on. I actually have work to do as I completely failed to do it the day before and the deadline is Monday morning so spend early evening doing it. After a facebook message from Bruce telling me to skype him, I decide to give him a call on my company phone. No bills, no worries! We discuss my options for the evenings entertainment: a) I could go to a pool party with my boss or b) I could chance it and go into town on my own and hope the rugby guys are out.

Bruce gives me some top rate advice: I'm bored of reading about your boss; go into town. (If you haven't read Bruce's blog from this week (http://inappropriate-lessons.blogspot.com/) I suggest you do, it sums him up nicely). If it's better for the blog, it's better for you, it's better for me, no one loses out on this option. I head out around 8 determined to get a story or two from the evening. Get to the bar where all the rugby guys drink-there are two in there, who have been in there since 2 in the afternoon. Turns out they are mates with some quite fit birds. I get myself introduced, this is the best possible scenario: they have just got there, and are sober, I have had 2 pints, so am finding some form, all their mates are hammered and so they don't want to know. I'm interesting to them, so like a pack of hyenas stalking an injured baby zebra, they gather round me. 3 quite fit girls, gathered round me, hanging on my every word giggling at all the right moments. When does this ever happen to me? Suddenly, disaster. In walks the 30 year old I growled out and went for a ridiculously awkward drink with the week before.

My friends from rugby don't know I know her, so they introduce me. If looks could kill. She has decided she isn't happy with me for not texting her. She is also hammered, so gets rid of my hyenas like a lioness claiming the prize by saying to the girls (who turn out to be her friends): "this guy's an ass hole". What a twat. Anyway, I waste no time and start hitting on her. If she's going to ruin me, I am at least getting something out of it. Give her some chat, she goes to the toilet. Tell my mate that I took her home 2 weeks ago and growled her out. He laughs and counts the guys who've taken her home: 4/9 in the room. Easy pickings. Give her more chat. Suddenly she gets really upset and claims she has lost her really valuable necklace. I don't bother helping her look for it, and instead take the opportunity to laugh at her with her mate Julie, one of the hyenas. Julie has massive cans, a decent enough face and seems like she knows what to do with a penis. The 30 year old finds her necklace, and I celebrate with her by doing shots. The following 5 minutes are fairly funny:

"I'm so happy you found your necklace"
Thanks...I'm really attracted to you, and it's not just because of your accent
Why else is it?
I dunno, I just really enjoyed making out with you last time
You know I don't do kissing in public
Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.

YES!! Last week Lauren in NY said no, this week, I'm being offered it on a plate! I head upstairs, see her disappear into the toilet. Start to casually move in. Get a tap on the shoulder. Bouncer's seen me, shit. Tell him she was just showing me around the upstairs part of the bar, and run away. She comes down 2 minutes later:

"where were you?"
"Got caught by the bouncer"
he's downstairs now, let's try again.
Start wondering up the stairs with her. Finally my moment has arrived. Hear a shout from the bottom of the stairs, it's my barman friend, Dan.

"But Dan, come on!"
"no way, I know exactly what you were going to do!"
What? go to the toilet?
No. Come down here and I'll give you free shots if you don't fuck her in the bathroom

A fair trade? I take him up on the deal. This really annoys the girl and she hits me and storms out, again calling me an arse hole. I don't follow her as now I see Julie from the other side the bar, and she's drunk. I head over.

"Hey Peter, can you dance?"
"I have been known to partake in a Tango"
We don't Tango in America. We grind.

Sold. I head off with her to the next bar. Nail some shots and she grinds the fuck out of me on the dance floor.

We walk in and they are playing an up tempo dance song. It turns out I am terrible at grinding. I can't seem to get the rhythm right. Her hips are moving too fast! Nightmare! I've never felt so white! Ahh a slower song. She goes for the long, hard, deep grind. This is more my scene. I grind her like there's no tomorrow. Literally as if I was in the final of the world grinding championships, up against Jeff (a natural grinder) and needed to bring my A game. Grinding is awesome as a) it is dirty b) as their back is to you, you don't need to talk to them c) you can't see their face and d) it doesn't matter if you break sweat as it is considered 'sexy'.

I give her my usual chat of 'I don't do kissing in public' But go back on my word 20 seconds later and find myself pulling her.

The bar closes and I'm all over the place. Ask her if she wants to come back to mine. She says she wants to drink more (insult?) so we move on. I'm literally so drunk I can barely stand, I must be tired from the grinding. She tries to kiss me in the next bar, but I barely recognise her. Her lift shows up, and she leaves. I completely didn't get her number. Terrible. I text the 30 year old: I can't believe you went home without me. No reply. I ring her. No answer. I ring her again. Answer! Bingo.

"What do you mean you don't want me to come over?"
"I'm too tired, come over next week"
"But I still have your bracelet and want to return it"
"bring it next week"

I trudge home.

Meant to be coaching 8 year olds how to play rugby the next day at 11. I wake up at 12:30 and miss it. Their coach, mentor and hero lets them down. I don't really feel that guilty as I'm in serious pain. It's 38 degrees so I give in to my boss and go lay by her pool and burn myself to shit.

I have no real plans for this week, apart from I know I'm going out Thursday with some people from work (not my boss).

Friday is pay day. What shall I do? What would be best for the blog? (Next week's blog may be the last for 2 weeks, as my parents are coming and I am going to see my grandparents for the 4th of July weekend, and you probably won't want to hear about that)

Options:

Friday: Drinks around here with some of the rugby boys? Head into Philly on my own to see what mischief I can cause (if I am doing it for the blog, I might man up and actually cause some, but this is a risky option) Head up to NY and go out with Jaron?

Saturday: Pretty much the same, but NY does sound appealing.

I want to put the final blog for 2 weeks in your hands. Answers in a facebook message or an email please.

My lesson from this week: try things you don't think you'll ever like, as you never know. Even if you don't, you can say you have. Alas now, all of you will be able to get me at I have never with: I have never had a rim job off my boss.

Happy Hunting

Peter.