||[Dec. 15th, 2006|12:50 am]
exploits of three kids in the city.
Mr. Right Then asked me to dinner unexpectedly. Because I had dressed particularly well for a hot coworker, he kept on telling me how beautiful I looked. Wearing a little black dress, shiny hair, and little makeup (save some fantastic fake eyelashes), I was inclined to agree. I was being a tease because I knew he was all about it and I just wanted to go home after working overtime, but o hay! I ended up driving home with him for a quickie. He was especially aggressive, and I felt one of my eyelashes slipping off as he was going down on me. In what I thought to be a slick move, I grabbed a pillow and covered my face with it, pretending like I was worried I was going to be too loud, and yanked off both eyelashes, stuffing them underneath my pile of clothes. Thinking myself clever, I tossed the pillow aside, and he moved on top of me.
"I think you lost your eyelashes," he noted.
I was so pissed! I hadn't been expecting to be getting hammered that night, or else I wouldn't have wasted 5 minutes of precious sleeping time gluing them on that morning.
At least my (engaged) coworker thought they were real.