My American Bad Boy

Alex and I were planning our night out when I received a text message from a random guy I sort of met. He was charming via text so I was excited to meet him! He had a VIP table at Bubble so we were definitely going, but first we had to make our rounds before the destination. When we finally arrived the VIP vallet were already expecting us so in we walked. First off, Bubble is a champagne lounge and expensive but we love to go.

After getting inside he apparently saw me and came up and kissed me on the cheek and grabbed my hand. He lead us to the VIP table next to the DJ booth, awesome! It was sort of awkward conversation to start but after a few red bull and vodkas it started to flow. He is really cute, sort of a European look/American bad boy. So tall = perfect because I’m 5’7 and LOVE to wear heels!

Towards the end of the night Alex had other plans and disappeared, so my drunk self was stuck with my American bad boy. After calling/texting Alex a 1,000,000 times my American bad boy said I could stay with him and he would take me home in the morning. My drunk self agreed. The vallet pulled around his fancy car and away we went. We arrived at his house and he took me to his room, (which was beautifully decorated). We started kissing and one thing lead to another…and another…and another, all night.

It was such a great night but I was still embarrassed. I thought, what guy in his right mind would ever want to hang out with a woman that gave it up the first night? Did this make me slut or just a normal sexually active woman? Whatever it labeled me it made me happy.

Stay tuned you guys on my “American bad boy” this is going to be a long chapter with way juicier details. This is just the tip of the iceberg.



2 thoughts on “My American Bad Boy

  1. A douchebag in a bar once told me, “If you want a boyfriend, don’t put out.” When it comes to some guys, he’s probably right, but why would I want to be with someone who judges someone negatively for doing something we both want?

    It made you happy, that’s what matters.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s