Part 13: Lessons in How to Get Laid

There are two things that I have learned from using the online dating site for the past two weeks. One, it's good to be a chick on there. I was so stunned and flattered by the number of messages that I received in the first day let alone the full two weeks. I would look forward to checking my inbox every day. Two, 95% of those messages are from dudes like Chad. I read through each message, but most were more or less asking to meet up later that night. Many of them at least had enough class, I suppose, to not specifically write "for sex" in the message, but why else would you ask a stranger whose picture you've seen on the internet to meet without a little written back and forth first if it weren't for casual one-night-only sex? I mean, fuck, it's not like my profile was screaming "I'm a horny bitch who needs your dick tonight". Sure, Dave put in the little bit about getting frisky, but I thought that was more to be playful and allude to the whole friends with benefits thing that I was looking for.

Probably the most common message I got went something like this:

Hey. I like your profile. When do you want to meet up tonight?

Really, guy? Did you even read my profile? Probably not. Did it say message me for meet-up times? Nope. Yes I wasn't looking to fall in love with anyone, but I was trying to build some sort of friendship. Is that too much to ask?

I did manage to get a few responses from people who seemed interested in chatting for a while in the attempt to cultivate a mental connection before having a physical one. I responded to those people and some of them seemed to be rather promising so far. I was excited and hopeful that some of them would work out.

I felt oddly nervous waiting at the airport for Jon. It had only been about a month since I had last seen him, but I felt like it was the first day of school. I had even spent an hour choosing what to wear to pick him up. That's just absurd. I sat on a bench in the line of sight of the gate he said he'd be exiting from. I rocked back and forth, anxiously, twiddling my thumbs and trying to control the large grin on my face. I must've looked like an absolute fool. I sat there for what felt like hours, in my own little world, so much that I didn't notice a pair of large dirty sneakers approach me.

"That's a pretty sweet Mankind impression you've got there."

I snapped my head up and my grin became a permanent fixture on my face as I stared at him in front of me. He smiled back, genuinely, and thumped himself down next to me on the bench, letting his bag lean against his knee. He yawned and stretched his arms upward.

"Are you tired? Do you want to go take a nap at my apartment before we grab some food?" I asked.

"Nah," he replied, wrapping an arm around my neck and wrenching it in. The gesture threw me off balance and I slumped against him in an uncomfortable position where my head was over his heart.
"I slept a little on the plane, so I'm good. We have a lot of work to do anyway, if we want to get you laid tonight." Even he couldn't say that with a straight face.

I blushed in response. "Oh, we're still doing that?"

"Hell yeah. Unless you really don't want to? I promise it'll be fun. I mean, come on, it's me."

"Well you are Mr. Funtimes." I tried to look up at him through his headlock on me. "Yeah yeah, I'll play along. So what did you have in mind, exactly?"

He released me from his hold and a sly grin crept onto his face.

"And his left nut was hanging out of his trunks for like two minutes!"

"That's just ridiculous," I replied, laughing. We had been having a nice little lunch at a sandwich shop in the mall that we had gone straight to from the airport. I had offered to stop back at my place for him to drop his luggage off and change clothes, if he had wanted to, but he refused.

I loved listening to him telling me about his road stories. Goofy ribs that he, Seth, and Roman would play on each other, crazy mishaps in the ring or backstage, and stories about overzealous fans. He was such a good storyteller that I could listen to him for hours. In between his stories, I filled him in on how the internet search for a sex buddy was going. He seemed glad that I had a few bright prospects, but still insisted on bringing me out that night.

When we had finished eating, he checked his phone for a moment before putting it back in his pocket and standing up. I followed suit and took our trash to the bin. He grabbed my wrist when I was done at the bin and led me through the crowds of people. I had been to this mall many times before, but I wasn't quite sure where he was bringing me. He walked through the sea of people fluidly, like he knew exactly where he was going. I assumed he must've been looking at a map of it on his phone moments ago. He finally slowed down and stopped in front of a store. He slowly turned around and looked at me, grinning.

"Please, no. Don't make me go in there."

The store was called Haute Bodies. It specialized in overpriced "trendy" clothing and was clearly not meant for someone like me.

"No! It's so douchey!" I pleaded, but it was no use.

"Lesson one. Stop being so judgmental. If you find something to hate about anyone who approaches you, or if you refuse to pursue anyone yourself because they look a certain way or are drinking something that you don't like, you're never going to succeed at getting stuck real good."

"You're so classy, professor," I said as I rolled my eyes.

He just smiled at me and continued on inside the store, dragging me along. As soon as we stepped over the threshold, my nose was assaulted with the stench of all sorts of body sprays mixed together. It was like walking into a wall of musk. I could barely hear Jon, let alone hear myself think amidst the blaring Top 40 music playing in the store. I could not figure out how the employees managed to work here without hearing loss or insanity.

Jon stopped to look around for a moment before leading me into a section toward the back of the store. Everything in this section looked so tiny and clingy. I'd never be able to wear crap like this. What the hell was he thinking? I lifted one of the tags and glanced at it.

"Clubwear?" I asked.

"Yeah. Think of it as fancy skank dresses," he answered.

"Dude, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like this. I mean, look at me."

"Well, bitch, you're wearing it tonight. Just trust me on this."

"Really. I should trust you when it comes to women's fashion?"

"Nope. You should trust me when it comes to skank fashion. I'm an expert." He turned toward me and flashed a cheesy smile.

"You're the worst," I said, smiling and shaking my head.

He poked around some of the racks before facing me. He pulled me against his body, holding my head into his chest, and pulled on the back of my shirt to check the size on the tag. He made a noise and let me go.

"Couldn't you have just asked me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I could have," he replied. "But I like to do things the hard way." He continued to search through the racks, seemingly looking for something very specific.

"Can I help you look for anything in particular?" A very pretty young woman approached us, smiling, although I could tell it was the strained smile of someone who works in retail. I was about to answer her when Jon suddenly spoke.

"Oh no, honey," he answered her in an offensively stereotypical gay male voice. The color dropped out of my face and my eyes widened. "I'm just helping give my girlfriend here a fabulous makeover!"

The woman smiled at him and turned to look at me. "Aren't gay best friends the greatest?" she whispered to me like it was a secret.

"Oh. Yes. They're wonderful," I said in a monotone voice. She gave us a small bow and went to go assist other customers.

I grabbed his t-shirt by the shoulder and pulled his face down to mine. "What the fuck was that?" I said through gritted teeth.

He chuckled to himself and said, "Would you rather have that chick help you find a skanky outfit or me?" I grunted in response. He finally pulled a black dress off the rack and nodded his approval. "Okay, let's go have you try this on."

I stared at the dress in my hands as I stood in one of the dressing rooms. It was in a back section, separated from the rest of the store, so I'd at least have some privacy when I opened the door to let him see. I didn't trust myself to like the way I looked in it, no matter what, so I assumed that I'd have to let him have final approval and I'd just go with it. I got undressed and started to put the dress on. The fabric was slightly stretchy, so there was at least some give to it as I scooted it up my body. I was right; it was definitely clingy, as it snuggly hugged my hips and butt. Once I had it all the way up and my arms through the straps, I looked at myself in the mirror. It had a deep V cut that went all the way down to my navel and was covered by a sheer fabric so it was "modest", but you could still pretty much see everything. The bottom of the dress sat at around the middle of my thighs and had two small cutouts on the hips. I looked utterly raunchy.

"Hey Jon, you out there?" I called out. He answered, so I opened the door a crack. "Could you stick your hands in here and pull up the zipper for me? I can't quite reach it. This dress is just so damn tight."

I felt his hands on my back zipping up the dress, but then I heard the door click closed. I turned around startled, to see him standing behind me in the tiny dressing room.

"You're not supposed to be in here!" I loudly whispered.

"Eh, it's not like anyone noticed."

"That's not the point," I started before he put his finger against my lips.

He moved his finger from my mouth to my collarbone, lightly tracing down the V-cut of the dress all the way down one side and back up the other. "You look so damn fuckable in this dress. I might not need to do anything else to help you." I laughed, knowing that it had been my brain that had caused my problems before, not my choice in outfit. "Turn around and let me see the back."

I pivoted and faced the back wall. He let out a low whistle. "Really?" I asked with doubt in my voice.

"Really. So much in fact," he moved forward so that he was pressing my body against the wall with his own, "that I think I need to do something about it right now."

"Here? In public? We can't do that. What if we're caught?" I exclaimed in a whisper.

"Why not here? Don't worry, we won't be caught. They expect people to have sex in here. Why do you think the obnoxious music is so damn loud?"

"You are so full of crap," I replied. He grabbed my ass through the dress and I had to stifle a small moan. "We, uh, still really shouldn't. You know…hygiene…and stuff."

"You don't sound entirely convinced of your argument, Miss Lana."

"I would be more certain if your hands weren't so large, Mr. Ambrose." He squeezed again and then slid the dress up over my bottom. I heard him lower his zipper and felt his warm length when it pressed against one of my cheeks. "A-ha! We can't because you don't have a-" I heard the sound of foil being torn. "-condom. You're evil." I pressed my forehead against the wall in defeat.

"I'm the devil, bitch, and you love it."

He bit my ear hard as he pulled my panties to the side and entered my pussy. I gasped slightly, as I wasn't quite warmed up for him yet. He went slowly at first, kissing the back of my neck and occasionally dotting them with tiny bites. As I became more aroused, he picked up the pace of his thrusts, but made sure not to go too hard in case someone came around and could hear us. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and wrenched my head back so that I could look into his eyes. That familiar lustful look was painted on his face and it made my stomach clench. I had missed this feeling. Whatever the source of it was, it clearly hadn't been there with Chad, but hopefully I could find it while out tonight.

He bit my lower lip and I craned my neck out so that our lips touched in a full kiss. He tugged harder on my hair and a quiet moan slipped out into his mouth. He pulled away from the kiss and brought his face to my ear.

"You are so fucking filthy. Getting fucked in a public place, like a good little slut. You naughty girl. I should spank you later to teach you a lesson." My mouth was open and my face contorted in ecstasy as he spoke. He took the hand that had held my hair and hooked two fingers into my mouth. "Do you like it? Do you love when I fuck your tight pussy?" I nodded while gasping out a few yeahs in response. "Do you want me to make you cum?"

"Yes please…" I moaned.

He suddenly pulled his dick out of me and pulled my dress back down over my ass.

"Wait…what?" I breathed out hard, still frustrated and horny.

"That was just a primer for later. I gotta get you all hot and bothered so that your pussy overrides your brain when you will undoubtedly try to over-think things."

I hit him in the arm several times and he laughed at me as he removed the condom and zipped himself back up. "Get changed so we can get out of here." He snuck back outside of the fitting room and I switched back into my street clothes. Once I was out of the dress, I opened up the door a crack and threw it at Jon, shooting him a look.

Once I was dressed and ready, we headed to the counter. We both went to pull out our wallets, but he was faster and handed the young woman his credit card.

"No, Jon, don't. Let me pay for it," I insisted, a hint of frustration in my voice.

"Nah, I got this. My treat," he replied. I opened my mouth to argue with him about it, but he held his hand up to stop me. "Will you let me be nice for once?" he said, cocking his head to the side. I pursed my lips and sighed. I never really liked when a guy paid for stuff, but on the bright side, it would make my bank account happy and it really was a nice gesture. A tiny smile formed on my face.

Once we pulled out of the parking garage for the mall, he directed me to our next destination. It was a beauty salon. He left to go walk around the city for a bit while I had my hair washed and set into some large curlers. I actually really enjoyed the final look once my hair was dry. My hair hung around my neck in big soft curls. It was quite feminine and although I wouldn't want to spend the time doing it every day, I thought it looked pretty good on me. It was something to keep in mind if I ever had a formal event to go to.

Once my hair was all set, another woman dealt with my make-up. I told her to go easy on it, that I'd prefer a natural look, but she insisted that the man who had booked the appointment had given her specific instructions on the look I was to receive. How much bloody planning did he put into this? I think I may have gotten into a relationship with a madman. I cringed, thinking of what I'd end up looking like by the end of this.

As the cosmetologist was finishing up, I saw Jon enter the salon, do a quick search for me, and smile brightly when he did finally spot me. Damn it. That's the sort of stuff that makes me feel funny inside. The kind of funny that I hadn't felt in a long time and really didn't want to feel again. He approached the two of us and took a look at her work. She turned to acknowledge him and he gave her the thumbs up. I assumed I must look pretty good, then. Or Jon's just an asshole and I look like a clown hooker.

"You do good work, miss," he nodded in approval as he turned to go pay yet again. I looked over into the large salon mirror and smiled at my reflection. I don't normally consider myself very ladylike, but I looked soft and feminine and, dare I say it, beautiful. He'd better let me pay for breakfast in the morning.

We headed back to the apartment for some food and for me to finish getting ready to go out. I had made sure not to make something messy for dinner and risk ruining the make-up. I turned around to get changed and when I turned back around to slide on my black flats, Jon was wearing a pair of clean black slacks and a navy blue button-up shirt. He looked downright dashing. It was kind of weird.

"You look so sharp and classy," I said as I moved toward him and smoothed out his collar with my hands. "It's very deceitful. I can't say I don't like it, but I already sort of miss the jeans."

"Yeah, I know, but these places usually have some sort of dress code. I always have to have something nice to wear on me in case the boss insists on us looking formal for some reason, so here you go." I wasn't entirely paying attention to him as I ran my finger down the buttons on his shirt. He really did look amazing, even if I usually preferred the more casual look. "Alright, first things, first. We're going to stop down at the bar so you can show off," he said. That snapped me back to reality quick.

"No way! Going to a nightclub full of strangers is one thing, but everyone knows me down there and I look too embarrassing!"

"Okay, here's your second lesson. Confidence really is everything. As much as guys don't really want to admit that. Whenever those girly magazines like Cosmo mention projecting confidence as a way to "snag a man", they're being right for once. So if you can go downstairs, take off that coat, and order a drink without feeling ashamed, you should have no problem doing the same thing later."

I nodded. He was actually making sense.

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that I want to throw back a couple drinks before we go to the overpriced bar," he added, laughing. I grabbed my purse and he pushed me out the door.

I hesitantly stepped through the door of the bar, my head angled down as to avoid eye contact. It didn't look very busy, but a lot of the regular Wednesday customers were strewn around the room and seated at the bar. David spotted me almost immediately.

"Hey guys, I didn't expect to see you here tonight! I thought you were going to some club or something."

"We are, but he made me stop here first."

I sighed and took my coat off, handing it to Jon behind me. Dave's eyes widened as he crossed his arms and stared. When Larry saw his reaction, he turned and looked at me as well. After a few moments, the entire room was staring. I cleared my throat and tried to hide my embarrassment as I walked to the bar to have a seat. Jerkface stayed back at the door, waiting and watching.

"I would like a Heineken and a rum and coke, please." I tried to maintain an air of coolness while I ordered, but it was very hard to not break out a smile in response to Dave's goofy grin.

"Yes ma'am!" he said with an eyebrow wiggle. I hid my face in my hands, trying so hard not to laugh. I suddenly felt a hand on my lower back.

"Hey miss, I haven't seen you around here before. Would you mind if I bought you a drink and maybe we could get to know each other?" I looked up at Larry, my lips quivering, barely holding on to the fit of giggles that were ready to burst through. "Oh, it's you, Lana!" he exclaimed with fake surprise. I punched him in the arm and gave up on holding back.

"You're all jerks!" I said as I laughed with him. The drinks were placed in front of me and that's when Jon came to stand next to me. He drank down his beer in one long motion, slammed the bottle back down, and let out a noise that sounded part satisfied and part agitated. He tossed a twenty toward David and I grabbed for it, but Dave snatched it up before I could. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders when I glared at him.

"I don't think the chick should have to pay on the first date," he said.

"Ha ha, well the joke's on you cause this isn't a date," I shot back. I noticed Dave try to discreetly wink at Jon, so I turned to look up at him and noticed his impish grin. "Wait, does this count as a date?"

He cracked his knuckles and glanced down at me. "You'd better finish the drink up while the night is young." He handed me my coat and went to wait outside while I guzzled down my drink.

I placed the glass in front of me and stood up, adjusting the bottom hem of the dress. As I walked toward the exit, I turned back to Dave and pointed at him. "I'm blaming you if this night goes down in flames, sir!"

Once I got outside, Jon took one last drag of the cigarette he was working on and stubbed it out on the ground. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, let me grab my keys," I said while I reach into my purse.

He placed his hand on mine to stop me. "We don't need the car. There's a place just a few blocks from here and that is where we will be going."

"You really thought a lot about this."

"Of course I did. I'm your bang coach tonight."

We walked for about a block before he stopped and reached into his pocket. "I almost forgot about this." He pulled out a thin silver chain and clasped it around my neck. I grabbed at the small charm on it. It was a silver oval with a gold J written on it.

I looked up at him without lifting my head. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's not expensive or anything, so don't worry. I saw it while you were having your hair done."

"A J, though?"

"So the dudes you end up banging always know that they're just borrowing you from me for the night."

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. "But those random skanks aren't borrowing you from me?" He responded by pointing to his ear. I hadn't noticed that he had changed out his usual earring to a tiny gold L stud. "Touché, coach," I said with a sheepish smile as he wrapped his arm around my waist and we continued on our way.

This chapter was originally longer, but I split it from the next chapter because it was getting awfully long. The second half is close to done, so I should have it up by Monday at the latest.