A Year to Remember(44)

He instantly appeared uncomfortable. “I’m not really into the whole oral sex thing.”

“Me, you, or both?” I asked, suddenly dismayed about my prospects in receiving an orgasm tonight.

“Well obviously I wouldn’t turn down a blowjob. I mean, what guy wouldn’t want a girl to take him into her mouth?”

At least he didn’t seem uncomfortable talking about it with me. That was a good sign, right?

“But you won’t go down on a woman?”

He shuddered in disgust. “No.”

“Can I ask why not?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer my question as he sat up and turned away from me.

“I’ve done it a few times throughout the years. Every time I hoped I’d enjoy it, but no matter what, I found it unappealing. You know ... the whole smell and taste thing.”

“I don’t smell!”

“I’m sure you don’t, Sara. Maybe someday I’ll change my mind. Right now, I’m not into it.”

“If I can’t come from sex and you won’t go down on me, how am I supposed to have an orgasm?”

“It’s not important that you had an orgasm. The important thing is we shared intimacy. We connected, and it was beautiful. I love you, Sara.”

All my anger disappeared. He loved me! If he loved me, a short engagement would soon follow, leading to marriage before thirty. After all, he knew we were on a strict timeline!

“I love you, too.”

I didn’t love him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by not saying it back to him. I had only known him for such a short time and I’ve been dating other men, so how could I be in love with him? Now that we’re officially a couple, I was certain I’d fall in love with him.

After all, Caleb had all the qualities I sought in a husband. He exuded warmth and intelligence. So, he lacked sexual prowess in the sack. We could work on the problems in the bedroom.

Caleb and I shared goals. We both wanted to get married and start a family. We had grown up watching our parents’ relationships persevere through the hard times, not succumbing to adultery or divorce as many of our friends’ parents had. We both declared ourselves as moderate democrats, socially liberal, but economically conservative.

The sticking point could be the difference in our religions. Caleb had been brought up Catholic, but no longer associated himself with the church. In fact, he had said he hadn’t been to church since he moved out of his parents’ house more than ten years ago. I, on the other hand, considered myself to be a practicing Jew. While I didn’t currently spend my money to belong to a synagogue, I attended on the High Holidays like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur with my folks.

When I had hinted to Caleb about the potential for problems in our religions, he had always pointed out since I was more religious, my beliefs would prevail. As much as I loved someone, I couldn’t marry them if they denied me the right to raise my children Jewish. Besides, Jewish law states the children take the religion of the mother over the father. Our children would be born and raised Jewish.

Considering he had only said “I love you” and hadn’t proposed marriage, our religions hardly seemed relevant at this point in our relationship. If or when we got engaged, we would have to have a deeper conversation about our religious convictions as it pertains to our children.

Now, I just wanted to bask in the afterglow of those glorious words.

I love you.

Three little words with big meaning. They could change my world forever.

The rest of the night, Caleb and I cuddled in bed hugging and kissing. Luckily, he didn’t seem to want to have sex again. I needed to get some advice about how to approach him about what I needed in the lovemaking department.



I knew just the girls to ask.





CHAPTER 18




MAY 24, 2012

DETROIT, MICHIGAN



WEIGHT: 183

STATUS: COMMITTED



Once a month, I met with Missy and a few of her lesbian friends to play Drag Queen Bingo. The gift shop/coffee house was located in a city known for its acceptance of alternative lifestyles. Missy and I had discovered it a couple years ago one night, when we stumbled into the store to get out of the rain. A drag queen stood in front of the room holding a large microphone, while men and women sat at small tables with their smoothies and bingo cards.

Part comedian, the drag queen introduced herself as Martha and asked if we liked to be on the bottom or the top. My jaw hit the floor, but Missy had a quick tongue and told Martha she preferred to be in the middle. Martha invited us to sit and join the game. We’d been coming ever since, first just Missy and me, and then her lesbian friends Ashley, Caitlin, and Nina joined our monthly ritual.