Tashina Savage's diary

He liked to have sex more than I do. Which is rare I'll admit, and I really couldn't believe I had met a guy that can go as many times in a row as he wants to.

"You're tired," He said, after the third go around on evening.

"I'm not tired, but some parts of me are," I laughed.

I attempted to change his mind through oral gestures and his moans signified his approval while his fingers laced between strands of my hair, slightly pulling.

"You'll be down there for awhile," he said. "Three times, remember?"As if he needed to remind me.

My determination was stronger than my aching jaw, and getting the job done is necessary once I get it started. Besides, I kept telling myself, he may try to put it in your butt.

I sound as if sex is a chore. It's not. He just really, really liked it. I couldn't walk past him without him grabbing my ass. When we were in public, he'd stand behind me, pulling me closer to him by my hips. Once he suggested going to a movie.

"I think you should wear a skirt," he said, "And no panties. When was the last time you let a guy you were seeing feel you up in the movies?"

"I was 15," I told him, and thought of days when I went to the movies just for getting felt up.

"I watched my friends have sex in the movies once, when we were in junior high," he propped his feet up on the couch and smiled, showing his perfect straight teeth. "Crystal wore a mini skirt. We were in the back row and she basically sat on his lap. I remember looking over at one point and thought to myself, 'My God, Mike's cock is huge!' and I don't think I've ever really seen one that has compared. I was really depressed to be average that day."

"You had time to grow," I said, in reassurance, but in retrospect it was probably a bad idea. He was ready to have sex again.

He watched CSI, a lot. Not New York or Miami, only Las Vegas. "Grissom is the man," he constantly reminded me. Other TV included the Sci Fi Channel, which I hardly ever tune into; Nip/Tuck, which is perfectly fine by me and a confession that he used to watch the Gilmore Girls.

"Lorelai is hot," he said in defense, and while I've never watched a single epsiode of the Gilmore Girls, he watched America's Next Top Model with me and offered to DVR anything I was afraid I'd miss. These are the things that are important to me. This is why I would have sex with him whenever he wanted.

One night he told me I reminded him of Bridget Jones.

"Someone you know?" I asked.

"No, the character from that movie."

"Why would you think that?"

"I thought she was incredibly charming in an ungraceful way. Plus, you manage to get yourself into embarrassing situations like her."

"I don't care for vodka though," I tell him.

Half asleep in his bed one morning, I listened to him take a shower. His bed was the best I'd ever slept in. His pillows, wonderful. "Courtesy of the Holiday Inn," he snorted, when I mentioned it.

I threw his thick comforter off of me, and rolled over onto my stomach, my butt in the air. The sun was barely streaming through the windows and I lightly moaned in comfort as my breasts brushed against his soft sheets. My ears picked up on the doorknob to his bedroom door rattling. Thinking it was him, I raised up slightly. A tall thin guy, walked into the room and before I have a chance to cover myself, I managed to meet his brother, naked.

"Don't mind me," he said. "I'm just getting a phone book. Didn't realize he had company." I threw my arms over my tits and grabbed the covers for security.

"You should probably tell him to lock the door. It was great meeting you this way, though." He waved me off, but yelled into the bathroom, "Stole your phonebook. Met your girl. Great, uh smile."

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces. I just hoped his family would love me.

Tashina Savage loves revisiting old relationships because it helps her appreciate the new ones. You can share your experiences with her at sundaysgirl@gmail.com.