Mr. Confetti Man 07

Mr. Confetti Man

#7

Well, Conchita and Karen were off basking in the glow of their newly formed relationship, doubtless bathing their brains in a naturally generated mixture of more than two "feel-good" neruro-transmitters. My observations over the years have led me to the belief that, when girls fall for each other, they fall hard, QED!

Speaking of hard, my dilemma now was what to do with the "-on" part of hard that I now frequently have, the two main solvers my problem being engaged in their own "gynecological research", so to speak.

Deidre has been unavailable, Drexel now working steadily on days, hence being himself available at home to sweat up the sheets with her on a regular basis. With all that sex, I would ordinarily worry that she would get pregnant except for the fact that DD told me she couldn't get pregnant. On top of that, good old Drexel was a fan of anal sex which would reduce the chances anyway. That's one thing Deidre liked about me--NO ANAL!

Mina had soared away farther into the rarified atmosphere of big-ticket commercial real estate and was just too damn busy for anything but "The Deal". I texted her a few times but it took her two days to respond and it was always "BZ, Sry". Man, I miss her boobs!

That left me with my newest lover, Desi, which is not to say that I was "merely" left with Desi. On the contrary, she was as stimulating and passionate a sex partner as ever I had. But, and I hope you can relate, having filet mignon for dinner every day can pall, no matter how good it is. Nevertheless, Desi was exceptional whenever we did have sex.

She would often show up unannounced, as she did that first time she "seduced" me. I wouldn't know what day, but it was usually around 5:00PM, sometimes 8:00PM, if she had worked a 12 hour shift. The routine was pretty much the same: we would undress each other, she would get my dick stiff with a blow job, then jump into bed for some "69", both cum--sometimes actually fucking--and then sleep until it was time for a midnight snack. We would eat, and then sleep the night through until she had to saddle up for work. I know it is anathema for a single guy such as I am, but I had on hand some underwear, socks, and a spare set of clean scrubs to change into. Most of the time she would bring them on her own but the spares were there if she needed them.

One night, after the Conchita/Karen hook-up, Desi showed up at 8:00PM looking particularly tired. We went to the bedroom and got naked but she seemed too fatigued to make sex pleasurable for both of us. She was lying on the bed, on her tummy, head resting on her arms, very quiet...not asleep...just quiet. I thought a massage might help her.

I started at the bottom and worked my way up. A famous author one time postulated that the secret of having a good relationship with a woman was:"Rub Her Feet". Good advice, I can tell you. I started at Desi's feet, alternating from one foot to the other with a firm massage. I worked my up to her calves, again alternating between them; then up the backs of her thighs.

I skipped rubbing her butt because I didn't want to get anywhere near stimulating what was between her legs; however, rubbing the taut small of her back produced sighs of relief. Her mid back and shoulders were likewise tense and she expressed even more pleasure at my ministrations. By the time I got to her neck, she was asleep. I could tell because she wasn't "AAAHHHA-ing more" and her breathing was soft and regular. I laid next to her, pulled a single sheet over us and went to sleep myself.

Now, my GrandMa, aka GM, because GP, GrandPa always said she was the General Manager of the universe, anyway...GM use to bitch at GP like hell because he was getting up so many times in the middle of the night to pee, which interrupted her sleep. It is, apparently, the bane of many, if not most older men but GM got on him about it mercilessly.

When GP would say that GM was just plain old grouchy, she would say, "Who wouldn't be if they can't get a good night's sleep because 'someone' keeps waking them up all the time in the middle of the night!"

That's the long way around to say that guys my age sometimes just need to get up in the middle of the night to pee, too, just not a bunch of times...not old farts. Well, I did wake up with the urge to pee but I also saw that Desi was also awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed staring at the far wall. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and sped to the bathroom and back again.

"What up, Desi?" I asked. "Can't sleep?"

"It was a tough day at the hospital today," Desi began to explain, "a little baby died and it was very sad. It was only a few hours after he was born...twelve hours, or so. The mother was a drug addict who fled the hospital after her anesthetic wore off. The baby was born drug addicted. Who knows where she went...but the baby died. It was all so very, very sad"

"Yes.. that IS sad...Tragic, in fact. I can see how that would upset you, especially seeing all that happen first hand, " I said kissing her cheek, "I wish I could take the hurt away for you."

"Oh, Drummond! You are such a kind man," she managed a weak smile, "thank you for the massage. I really needed that tonight. Somehow having sex didn't seem right tonight. Your back rub was exactly the thing I needed."

"I sensed that, Desi, you just your usually perky self," I put my arm around her, "let's snuggle and get some real sleep, O.K.?"

We laid ourselves down again, snuggling up, Desi's head on my chest but she was still restive, squirming and repositioning herself.

"Drummond? I want to have a baby now!" Desi exclaimed suddenly.

That made my blood run cold. I can understand her feelings, especially in light of the day's events, but there was no way--loving Desi or not--that I was ready to have the responsibility of a child in my life. I needed to deflect her train of thought!

"Desi! Aren't you forgetting something?" I tried to keep it light, "you need to get pregnant first and then there's something like a nine month wait. I don't think we can manage that all tonight!"

"You're being silly, Drummond," Desi said as she gave me a comic punch in the arm, "what I meant is that 'now' I want to get pregnant and have a baby...sometime. Maybe not 'now', tonight, and maybe not even with you-- though, I'd love that...because I love YOU...but sometime before I'm old and too set in my ways to deal with motherhood."

Well there was sweet and sour in her statement, all mixed together. I was relieved that it was an open-ended goal, not an immediate project. And it was sweet of her to say that she loved me...that's the first time I heard her say it that way. But I was also sure that I was not ready for a commitment like the one she was hinting at. I had just experienced being loved by two women and loving them back. That was sweet and sour, too...and painful in its own way.

"My sweet Desi," I said quietly, "we have nothing but time to work this all out. Let's enjoy the day which right now, means catching some ZZZZ's so you can be fresh for your patients in the morning."

I gave her a kiss and we both shortly fell asleep in each other's arms. My last thought was, "I think it would be better if I had my own supply of condoms...I mean, just for safety's sake!"

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I hadn't heard from Deidre for weeks I didn't want to call or text her because I didn't want to get in trouble with Drexel if he spied on her phone. So I just let slide, though I miss the giggly, jiggley, happy sex with her. I am after all her "Confetti Man". I wondered whether her sex with Drexel was any near as much fun than sex with me...Drexel's predilection for anal, of course, being a factor.

I was in the Coffee place one afternoon and saw Deidre sitting at a table with a man. The only word I can think of to describe him is "Lummox", a large, clumsy, stupid looking man. He was all of 6'4", (1.9m) and probably 240lbs (110kg-ish). He looked like an American footballer. Now you must remember that Deidre is 5'1" (1.6m) and 130lbs (59kg), so they made an interesting pair. I only hoped that Deidre had sex sitting him; the converse was too scary to contemplate.

The amazing thing was that I saw what looked to me to be a pronounced "baby bump". Miracle of Miracles, Deidre had gotten pregnant--I presumed by Drexel, but one never knows. I doubt it could have been me...or could it have? I did the math in my head and OOOPS, maybe!

I started to walk over to their table when I got a subtle shake of the head accompanied by a slight frown. I got the picture. Saying "Hi" would be impolitic. I gave her a smile anyway and she surreptitiously smiled back.

My coffee shop "Mojo" hadn't been working as far as meeting new women is concerned. Neither had my shopping mall women's store gambit. I found meeting women jogging in the park creeped them out; just like the laundromat ploy. "Well," I told myself, "somebody will turn up."

The first words out of my mouth as I left the Coffee place were, "What the FUCK! Dammit!"

This was only an appropriate reaction to what I was seeing. The parking patrol person--it is very non-PC to call them "Meter Maids"--was ticketing my car. I rushed over and pleaded that I had just been inside the Coffee bar a couple of minutes but my protests fell on deaf ears. She continued to process the citation in her little hand-held gizmo. It printed out a thermal paper copy of the ticket and at the same time transmitted all the data to the Traffic Division. No way for me to wriggle out of it..dammit!

I read the name tag on her spiffy...yeah...meter maid's uniform. I said, "Officer Gloria ____, is How much will the ticket be?"

She pressed a couple of buttons on her ticket gizmo and said, "It looks like a $65 ticket. This is a red zone, as you can see, and it is very dangerous to park in a red zone Mister...ah..." she looked at her hand held again, "Mister...How do I pronounce this...Zaglogsh Kozteranscky?"

"I'm sorry? But that's not my name, Officer...er...Gloria," I was as confused as she was about "my" name, "are you sure that's correct?"

She ran the both the vehicle license plate number and VIN (Vehicle Identification Number) through her hand-held again and nodded to me in the affirmative. She even showed me the LCD screen. Yep, "Zaglogsh Kozteranscky " it was. I scratched my head and she smiled with a little giggle.

I looked again at my car and suddenly realized that it wasn't my car! It was an identical SUV, the same make, model and color as mine but it wasn't mine. I looked two spaces down and, sure enough there was my car! I walked over to my car and checked the parking meter...WHEW...I still had 9 minutes remaining.

I walked back to Officer Gloria, totally abashed. "Officer Gloria, I am so sorry if I said anything that might be construed as untoward or critical of your profession, intelligence, or habitus. If I did, it was totally uncalled for. There is my car down there, almost a duplicate of this car here...Mr. Kozteranscky 's car. Forgive me for my tantrum, please!"

She looked at me and gave me a big smile, "I appreciate your apology but it is totally not necessary. You have been a perfect gentleman and believe me, whatever it was you said I would have remembered it if it was insulting."

She looked at my car, and checked her little computer, and continued, "Mister...Drummond___, if you're going to stay around, you're going to need to plunk a few more coins in your meter. I can see that you only have 4 minutes left, now!"

"Officer Gloria," I said with a smile of my own, "that means I have only 4 minutes to talk you into having coffee with me after your shift...no 3 minutes now...so, I do need a quick answer. 'The Grind' at 5:00pm?"

"Drummond, if I may call you that, it is against the law to attempt to bribe or fraternize with an officer while on duty," she paused for effect, "but at 6:01PM, I will be off duty and at 'The Grind' and you can 'fraternize' your head off should you happen to see me there...you've got 2 minutes now...!"

I gave her a military salute and trotted over to my car. As I got in, she whizzed by me in her little scooter and waved.

It was only a coffee date but I put on a nice blue dress shirt, khaki slacks, and black dress loafers. I certainly didn't want to look like a flake for Officer Gloria. She showed up in a blue dress shirt, khaki pants and black low heeled...well...police shoes. We looked at each other and laughed.

I ordered up coffee for both of us..she took hers black and so did I.

As we waited, I extended my hand, "Gloria, if I may, we have already met but let's make this official. I'm Drummond___, but you know that already, don't you. You've probably already run me through your records system. Really, that firecracker thing when I was 13 years old was just a prank. I didn't do any time!"

Gloria laughed out loud at that and said, "But you didn't tell me about the beer bust in the park when you were 17...did you...the rule is: If a witness is found to be false in one statement, the credibility of entirety of their testimony may be questioned, thus subject to impeachment. I think I have that right."

"Ouch!" I replied, "is it actually Officer and law student Gloria that I am addressing here? That was very good!"

"Yes, I am a law student, Drummond," she said, "and I need the Parking Enforcement gig to get me through law school. I do three nights a week at law school and the rest I spend studying so, if I might say so, you are lucky I showed up tonight. I have a 'torts' exam coming up and I really should be home studying."

"I am doubly flattered then, Gloria, that you would take the time to have coffee with me," I said in all sincerity, "I know what a grind that can be and how much you have riding on it. My compliments!"

Gloria gave me a "subject changing" look as our coffee arrived. She said, "Drummond, I think you an interesting man. There is something about you that intrigues me but I haven't quite put my finger on it yet. But I want to be plain about something, I am not in the market for a man. In fact, I will be honest with you, my sexual orientation is lesbian. So, if you have any designs on having sex with me, I will disabuse you of that notion now and we can part ways...no hard feelings."

That was a big damper, but to counter act it I went on a bit of a rant, "Point taken, Gloria, and since we are in a 'cards on the table' mode, I can't say that it wasn't on my mind...you are an exceptionally good looking woman...and now I've found out an exceptionally smart woman, as well. But I'm not always 'on the make'. I like to meet new friends too...friends who are friends, not sex objects... men and women. And, I know this sounds chiche' too, but two of my dearest friends, whom I love deeply, are lesbians in a committed relationship. So, please don't mistake this as me merely trying to 'score'. I would just like to get to know you. If there's nothing else, that's fine with me...getting to know you is the satisfaction enough for me!"

"I am duly chastened, Drummond," Gloria said calmly, "it is refreshing to hear someone, as you say, 'lay their cards on the table'...I subscribe to that policy too, as you've found out. Tell, me Drummond, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a 'day trader', Gloria," I started out, "I was a Wall Street wonk for a few years, bailed out of that because of a number of reasons but the main one was it was constant pressure and I wanted to have a life. I've taken what I've learned and put it to use personally and make a fair living out of it, though some days it's the 'chicken' and some days the 'feathers'. But I do O.K....How about you? Tell me about yourself."

Gloria thought for a minute as she sipped her coffee, and said, "Well, Drummond, I'm not going to give you my whole biography but, I am one of three sisters in a family of lawyers. Both my father and my mother are lawyers. Actually, my mother is now a judge. I am the youngest. One of my sisters is a JAG in the Marine Corps, my other sister graduated from Medical School and is now interning at a major hospital in another city and I am, as you already know, doing the Parking Enforcement job to get myself through law school. I'm doing it on my own because I don't want any special consideration because of who my parents are. I'm busier than hell doing all of this, as you can imagine and I don't have a lot of time for extra-curricular activities, if you know what I mean--I'm too busy and too stressed."

I said to myself, "Methinks the lady doth protest too much". That's a line from a Shakespeare play. I sensed a lot of tension in the beautiful and smart Ms. Gloria.

I said to her, "Gloria, I can imagine the stress you must be under. I wouldn't blame you a bit if you think I'm not sincere, but believe me I am sincere. Let me offer you my phone number. If you need help with something, let me know what I can do. I promise I will do what I can. Just keep that in mind. Put my number for your cell. Call me if you want, that will give me your number. If you don't call, I will understand. As you said, 'no hard feelings' "

Gloria nodded, took my number that I'd written down, and put it into her wallet--she didn't carry a purse--and extended her hand. We parted with a handshake and a smile.

Now, I like smart women, but I don't like scheming women. I must admit, though, that Conchita's agile mind helped me put her and Karen together. I sensed that Gloria had a plan-- maybe not very good one, but a plot nevertheless.

Why flirt with me at the scene of the 'ticket' and then do a total shut down when we met for coffee? She was testing me. Lesbian, indeed! Her test was to see how I would react to her identifying herself as a lesbian. Would I just blow her off? Would I try "turn" her straight by my masculine charms? Or, at least try to persuade her that being bi-sexual was a lot of fun? Sheesh! I wonder who she borrowed the khakis and blue shirt from. I could tell the shoes were hers, she was wearing when she wrote the ticket. All of that kind of thing was bait for her plan.

How did I do? Well, I self-assessed my performance as both a defeat and a victory. Well, defeat? I wound up doing exactly what she expected: I terminated our "date" without making any "moves" on her.. Victory? I didn't completely "blow her off". She now had my number. If she didn't call it, I wouldn't be any the worse for the experience. It would be just a failed "sales call". But, if she did call, then I would know that she really was interested in me and all of her lesbian posing, was just a smoke screen. That was my bait. And, I was willing to wait; I would lose nothing by just waiting.

A week later, my cell phone buzzed and the screen told me it was an "unknown caller" and displayed the number. I usually don't answer those--span calls mostly--but my intuition told me it might be Gloria. I answered:

Me: Drummond here. Who is this?"

Her: Drummond! I'm just checking. You haven't called me."

Me: I'm sorry, who might this be?"

Her: It's Gloria, remember? I thought you might call me."

Me: Oh, hello Gloria. But how could I call you, I didn't have your number. I gave you my number but you didn't give me yours and I didn't ask for it. I'm sorry if there was a misunderstanding about that."

(There was no misunderstanding. That was just her opening gambit. Put me on the defensive.)

Her: Well, you could have found out my number, if you wanted to, I think.

Me: Oh? How might I have done that?

Her: You could have asked around.

Me: Asked whom? Asked around where?

Her: Well, that coffee place where I wrote the ticked, for one. They know me there.

Me: And how might I have know that? I only go there occasionally. How would I know that you are a regular?

Her: Yes, I guess that's right....You could have checked with the Police Department, Traffic Control, Parking Enforcement.