He Couldn't Keep His Hands Off Me

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He Couldn't Keep His Hands Off Me
04.26.07 (9:26 am)   [edit]
Last night I went to the fish tank for a special 'volunteers only' event with "The Photojournalist". We met at a Starbucks a while back. He's a European mutt of sorts but primarily Turkish and Russian. English is not his first language, and sometimes understanding him was sort of a challenge. Sum him up in one word: EAGER He called me more than 5 times yesterday afternoon to let me know traffic was crazy and that he was rushing to meet me. It was sweet but after the third time, I was ready to say "Dude, I get it, I'll wait for you." "Photojournalist guy" seemed really really really smitten with me. I'm so "beautiful, sexy, intelligent, funny, blah blah blah." It was sweet and sexy but hearing it over and over and over again got old. We drove down in his Navigator. (I say this because it's important later.) In the car less than 15 minutes and he tries to go for a kiss at a redlight. (Definitely premature.) He gets cheek. I tell him to sloooooow down. He's been in Atlanta for two months and hadn't been to the fish tank. He also said he loves taking nature photography. (I figured he'd take some rockin' pics.) He took a lot of pics. After about an hour of showing him the galleries, he'd keep trying to grope me. I told him that although this wasn't my job-job, I still needed to keep a professional appearance and he needed to back off. Apparently, some of that was lost in translation. We go into the penguin exhibit. There are lots of people around. Going into the penuin exhibit involves crawling into a dark area and popping your head up in the middle of the exhibit to take pictures. It's, um, shall we say, cozy? He takes his pics and I duck down ahead of him to crawl out of the secluded private area. (Bad idea on my end - literally) He tried to reach up my skirt while I'm crawling out. I felt like I was 13 years old and being pawed by my high school boyfriend. Don't get me wrong. Photojournalist guy was hot. Sexy. But all of this attention was, shall we say, premature? Extremely premature. We went out to the seal lions. Now this guy hadn't been there before, but he sure enough found the secluded area back there and started to maul me again. (Now had my libido not been revving on overdrive for a week or more, I might not have let him get within twelve inches of me. But he did this thing to my neck that made my knees weak, so I indulged for a moment.) He smelled so good and the accent did make me cave for that moment... Until he said that he wanted to (blank) me right there. Uh, no. A kiss on the neck does not grant one access to 'the promised land'. I said that I was out of there. I went up to the ballroom for the wrap-up and sat on the floor in front of the Belugas. (Marina the Beluga was flirting with me for quite some time.) Photojournalist followed me to the ballroom but didn't know where I was sitting. When it was over, I found him and he whispered that he wanted me to go take off my panties in the bathroom. He was making my high school boyfriend that had been nicknamed the Octopus look like a chaste soul. I told him again that he was not going to get anywhere with me. At all. There's been someone else in my past that didn't seem to get the picture that to get anywhere with me, you gotta get to know me. Anyway, we leave the fish tank. Parking garage. Crowded. He behaved himself, opening the door while I climbed (literally) into his Navigator. We had parked up fairly high in the parking deck. We had to drive up to the top to go back down. I'd never been up there before. It was GORGEOUS. The view was amazing. Of course he noticed this. I told him that the backlog getting out of the garage was going to be crazy, so let's just stop and enjoy the view. He thought that meant I'd give him head and started unzipping his fly. I came mighty close to hopping out of the car and going back into the fish tank to get someone to drive me back to my car. I told him (for the hundredth time) that he needed to keep his hands, mouth and other appendages to himself and clothed. He said he couldn't help it that I was so sexy. I said that may be, but I don't behave that way with someone I don't know very well. So he seemed to retreat. Drove me back to my car. Kissed me on my cheek - deliberately - and said that he had a fabulous time and gave the whole "I'm a beautiful, intelligent, sexy and very desirable blah blah blah speech." I wanted to go home and take a shower. I get home and he calls and says that he wants to see me tonight. I laughed and told him that I'd had enough of him. The funniest part was - we were reviewing the pictures he took while sitting in the ballroom - the pictures sucked. Composition was off, lighting was horrible. Makes me wonder if he's really a photojournalist.
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