“So You Wouldn’t Eat My Antelope?” “No, I Would.”
Sorry for the gap in posting; I was doing really important stuff. While I was gone, my old nemesis Joe the Plumber gave a nonsensical speech to a group of teabaggers, the nation engaged in a vigorous (sort of) debate about sex-positive feminism, and I got bronchitis or something.
Say, if you’d like to see more updates in this spaces, why not e-mail me and tell me about your recent exploits? I am currently seeking CTGML stories that feature (1) makeup sex between couples, and (2) guys as the protagonist, especially gay guys (but straight guys too). But raunchy stories from straight women, like the subject of today’s story, are always appreciated.
Blonde vixen “Debby” is a political blogger who lives in Tallahassee, Florida. Every so often she visits her grandfather “John” and his wife, who live in Tahoe — she’s an expert skier. One weekend this winter, she went up there for a short ski vacation. On one of her first nights in town, she and John went out to a restaurant that featured lots of unusual game, like buffalo, antelope, and elk. She was still wearing ski clothes from her day outside, but likes to go for a look more glamorous than the natural/sporty vibe most ladies project there (or so she claims — I don’t know anything about the topic; I am frightened of skiing, and don’t have any relations that do any leisure activities more glamorous than copy-editing), so she was wearing black Under Armour leggings and a tight black ski jacket by Salomon, with heavy black eyeliner.
As she and her grandpa were ordering a bottle of wine, she noticed their “hot young server.” He had “classic male” good looks, and he looked admiringly back at her. Debby ordered the antelope. She asked for medium rare; grandpa made the interaction weird by saying “She’s a meat eater, she likes blood on her plate!” But when the antelope showed up, it was dry and overdone, and she had to send it back.
The replacement piece of antelope, when Seth the waiter brought it, was “fabulous.” This time he and them ended up getting into a conversation. He revealed that he’s from the same state the she is, and that he was in the process of applying to law school, and that he was a skier rather than a snowboarder. Debby’s grandfather approved of these facts. (He is prejudiced against snowboarders, on the ground that they tear up the snow too much, or something.) He seemed impressed by the guy and, noticing the sparks flying between him and Debby, “conveys that he thinks I should get on it.”
He helped out with this by supplying a pretext, saying something along the lines of “my granddaughter has this blog, she’s doing a story on snowboard clothing.” She wasn’t doing any such thing. I didn’t understand why he brought snowboarding into it when all three of them were skiers, and according to Debby, “it didn’t really make any sense.” She can’t remember how on earth he introduced this topic in the first place. Anyhow, he suggested they meet up so she could interview Seth. “Are you available tomorrow?”, he asked. Meanwhile, she and Seth were looking each other in they eyes, and he looked, in her words, like he “can’t believe this is being handed to him.” She was pretty pleased about it, too. (It sounds like kind of unusual behavior on John’s part, but again, what do I know? Both my grandfathers drank themselves to death before I was born.)
Seth said “No, I’m not available.” and John asked “What about tonight?”, and handed him her name and number on a piece of paper. When they walked out of the restaurant shortly afterwards, news of the little romance was already being bruited about among the staff. The bartender called out “hey, don’t forget to call Ben!” Debby was in a relaxed mood, having “been drinking all day with cougars” that she’d met on the slopes, and she was “laughing her ass off” about the situation.
She called Seth a couple of hours later, saying she would be at this bar the Dusty Boot later that evening, and did he want to meet for a drink. He did. He texted her a while later, saying “I’m at the Dusty Boot.” She had changed into dark gray BDG jeans from Urban Outfitters, white cowboy boots, a loose black tank top, and a cardigan also from Urban Outfitters.
A bunch of her new Tahoe friends were at the bar, and had a good time. She and Seth drank tequila with lime and talked about “kayaks” and “ice climbing.” He told her about how he got fed on the job by eating people’s sendbacks, and explained his policy as “I would eat anybody’s food I would make out with.” “So you ate that burned-up piece of antelope?” He said no, he didn’t eat the burned antelope. (What a ridiculous sentence to have to type.)
“So you wouldn’t eat my antelope?”
“No, I would.”
Having gotten that out of the way, they kept talking for a while; he said “do you wanna go make out in the bathroom?”, and she said “no, I wanna go play in the snow.” They went to her car and got a flask of tequila. They ran around until they found a “snow-enclosed gondola,” got inside and started “making out furiously.” “Before I knew it, my pants were down, and I was like ‘What am I doing, no.'” That sounds uncomfortable, but also, she revealed to me at this point that when she stays with the old folks, she has a 12 p.m. curfew. What the heck? So they both started walking back to her condo entrance.
Instead of separating, though, they went into the locker rooms that the building has for people to store their ski equipment, where they again started “makin’ out like crazy.” Debby didn’t feel she could afford to get into trouble, so she came up with a plan. She said “I have to leave and come back.” Seth said “I’ll wait for you.” She went upstairs, found her grandpa, and said “okay, I came back, I’m gonna go back out,” all petulant-like. John was amenable to this, only saying “don’t stay out too long.”
She went back down to the locker room and found Seth, and they resumed “makin’ out all hard.” Finally, the clothes came off, and “we did it up against a locker. It was really hot.” One might think this would be difficult, especially since she’s short, but she claimed they did not suffer from any logistical difficulties. Then they said goodbye, she went upstairs to bed, and she hasn’t seen him again.
EDITED TO ADD that I share your confusion about this story, readers. Debby is in her 20s and doesn’t need a curfew. On the other hand, when I visit my parents, I can’t even go to CVS without briefing them on where I’m going, how long I’ll be gone, and how I won’t wreck the car on the way home. That is what family members are like. On the other hand, if her grandfather is of a protective bent, why pimp out her and her juicy antelope to a virile young man? Debby’s grandfather sounds like a weirdo.