Discussing the Past

I have some time here before we go out tonight…I have been shopping for a while (kids are really expensive…REALLY expensive) and Munchkin is napping happily on the couch next to me. And I want to talk about another thing I forgot to mention from a couple days ago.

If I could get a little familiar for a second…I think the mood for the following conversation with The Boy has to be set. I had just finished giving him a blow job, which is incidentally one of my very favorite things and something which I will write at length about some day (I seem to promise that a lot…) So we were in the brief time that he was catching his breath and recovering, and I was unbelievably wound up and waiting for him to be ready to go again so that I could get my rocks off…

So while we were laying there (it is kind of a weird dynamic…one person is just absolutely aching to get on to the fucking while the other one is kind of in afterglow) and I asked “How many girls have you slept with?” And literally, the question was halfway out of my mouth and I wished I could have taken it back.

Why? Because it is pretty obvious what follows that…and it was not a question that I really wanted to answer right then and there. So, as expected, he answered with a number that was probably pretty average for a good looking, charming 28 year old guy. And the number itself was not a problem, other than it being WAY less than the answer to the follow-up question from him “How about you?”

Now, I am not a slut. But I do like sex, and I have always liked sex, and I have had a lot of it. I consider a slut to be someone who sleeps with lots of people because of a lack of self esteem that causes a need for validation by sleeping around. I recognize that this is not a universal definition, and that there are a lot of people that would consider me a slut just because of the number of people I have been with. But every person I have ever had sex with has been someone that I had some connection to and genuine like for. I am not sure that makes sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to me.

Back to my story…I am not ashamed or embarrassed of anything I have ever done, and The Boy knows that I am…ahem…not a virgin…because I have told him. Nothing to hide, and nothing I don’t feel I can tell him.

But still, the number itself, which I do know and could recreate in list form exactly, is pretty large. Not large like “432” large, but the number of guys I have been with is larger than The Boy’s number by a factor of about 3.

So yes, once I asked the question I immediately wished that I still had his dick in my mouth and couldn’t have said anything…lol. But then he asked me, and I will admit that I hesitated for a second but then I figured “What the fuck, if he has a problem with it, then I don’t know him like I think I do.” So I told him…I guess in hindsight I could have trimmed the number a bit, but what is the point in that? As Popeye says, I yam what I yam.

I think I sensed some surprise from him….he knows a lot of it, but he is also four and a half years older than me and might have figured that his head start would give him more of a chance;-) He gave me a momentarily disturbing “Really?” but that was kind of about it. And then he said “Well then, I better up my game if I am gonna impress you.”

After that he rolled over on top of me, and as he entered me, I very clearly thought “No you don’t. I am already pretty impressed.”