A night to remember – Part II

What do you get when you mix one City Girl, one Best Boy and his best friend and a guy that I dated for a month, Mr. Exec, at the same bar? Read on…

Best Boy arrived at Ceiba, and our party expanded to four. The jokes, drinks and good conversation kept flowing. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Exec's friend, Melinda, headed off to Chinatown to meet her cousin so Best Boy took her seat.

The three of us ordered food, and when the meals came, both Mr. Exec and Best Boy shared their dishes with me. It felt like I was on a date…with both of them! But, somewhat surprisingly, it wasn't weird. It felt completely natural!

Mr. Exec was cocky and controlling, but in a way that I found sexy. (I do have a type!) Best Boy had a calm and kind presence that drew in everyone around him, including me. As I looked from one to the other, I thought to myself that if you combined these two guys, you would have the perfect man! (If only it could be that simple, right?)

As I nibbled on my fish tacos, I couldn't resist stirring the pot a little.

Me: So…have you guys ever had a threesome?

Best Boy didn't know how much of a racy side I had so he blushed and didn't say a word. Mr. Exec smiled a mischievous grin and tilted his head to give Best Boy the opportunity to respond. Best Boy looked hesitant to speak.

Me [to Best Boy]: It's not that big a deal. But, if you don't tell me, Mr. Exec will. [I giggle.]

Best Boy [after a lengthy pause]: Yes.

Me: DP [Double Penetration]? Pig roast [in which a girl is giving a blow job to one guy, while the other has sex with her doggy-style]?

Best Boy: Yes.

Me: Both?

Best Boy: Yes.

Me [smiling]: Interesting.

My friend, Autumn, was in the neighborhood so she stopped by Ceiba for a drink. The laughter, fun and pig roast references continued. I made some comment that wasn't related to anything sexual, but ended with the word, "back." Autumn responded with a smile and giggle.

Best Boy looked a bit confused since he didn't realize how easy it was for us to turn almost anything into a double entendre. Part of what made Best Boy so endearing was the fact that he seemed sweeter and shier than Mr. Exec. Best Boy was clearly the better man, but I couldn't deny the fact that Mr. Exec possessed something intangible that I found incredibly sexy. I had thought about the possibility that Mr. Exec and I could be friends, but now, I wasn't sure what I was feeling or what I wanted.

Melinda, her cousins and several friends came back to the bar. As there were now eight of us in the group, there were several different conversations going on at once. It also gave me some time to talk to each person one-on-one. Mr. Exec asked about my health, indicating that he hoped that I had been feeling better. Best Boy offered to drive me home, apologizing for the fact that I had been caught in the rain on my trip to Ceiba. And, Autumn whispered to me that she thought that both Mr. Exec and Best Boy liked me.

Me [to Autumn]: Really?!? You think so?

Autumn [nodding]: Totally.

An hour later, the other girls had left, and it was just me Best Boy and Mr. Exec again. We had one last drink before asking for the check. Best Boy and I both pulled out our credit cards, but Mr. Exec insisted on paying for the bill. It felt like a bit of a pissing contest, and it shouldn't shock anyone that Mr. Exec won. Best Boy and I thanked him, and we headed out of the restaurant.

Mr. Exec's car was right out front. He said goodbye to Best Boy first, and then I went to hug him goodbye.

Mr. Exec: May I give you a ride home?

Me: Umm…Best Boy already offered to.

Mr. Exec: Oh. He did? [Turns to face Best Boy.] You're giving her a ride home? [Best Boy nods. Awkward pause.]

Have a good night then.

Me: Thanks.

Best Boy drove me home and kissed me at the door. I kissed back for a minute, but then I stopped. He was handsome and nice, but I didn't know if I felt a spark with him.

Me: Thanks for a fun night!

Best Boy: Well, I would like to take you out to dinner just the two of us one night.

Me [smiling]: I'd like that. Will you text me to let me know that you got home okay?

Best Boy: Of course. Good night.

Best Boy turned and walked toward his car. I walked inside my building. Before I had even gotten to the elevator, I sent a text to Mr. Exec.

A night to remember

Was I being punked?

While in the cab en route to meet Best Boy at Ceiba, he called to inform me that his best friend and the guy that I had dated for a month, Mr. Exec, was at the bar…at Ceiba!

What are the odds of that? Who else does this kind of stuff happen to?

I exhaled and ran through the pros and cons to myself before telling Best Boy:

That’s not a problem for me. Is it a problem for you?

[I restrained myself from asking if Best Boy and Mr. Exec had planned this. I also held back from letting Best Boy know that I didn’t exactly care to be at a bar with the two of them. I didn’t want to sound like I had any unresolved feelings for Mr. Exec when I didn’t.]

Me: Should I still have the cab drop me off at Ceiba?

[We had vacillated between meeting at Oya or Ceiba. I figured that he would suggest we now meet at Oya instead. But, he surprisingly didn’t.]

Best Boy: Yes, if you’re fine being around Mr. Exec…

Me: Of course I am.

[What I really wanted to say: Are you fucking kidding me? This is going to be really awkward! When last Mr. Exec and I talked, I told him off for not being there for me after my concussion.]

Best Boy: Good. I’m just looking to relax and have some drinks without any drama.

Me: That works for me. And, there shouldn’t be any drama.

As I hung up the telephone, I realized that there would only be drama if I brought it to the table — or the bar, as the case might be. And, I didn’t need to do that. Mr. Exec and I were never serious. We had our problems, but I had never shed a tear over him and had said my piece. I was bound to run into Mr. Exec around DC again sooner or later since my world and this city are smaller than small. And, if Best Boy and I hit it off, I didn’t want us to have to sneak around Mr. Exec’s back. Why did this have to be a big deal then?

I walked through Ceiba’s glass doors, noticing Mr. Exec and his friend, Melinda, at the bar. I had met Melinda when Mr. Exec brought her to my Blog Party, and she’s a total sweetheart. I exhaled and felt a bit better. I reminded myself that I could do this without being affected. After heading to the bathroom to try to dry off from the effects of the downpour, I went over to the bar.

Me: Hi! Great to see you both! How are you?

Mr. Exec smiled, although his eyes conveyed a sense of surprise at seeing me. We exchanged pleasantries, and Mr. Exec moved to the chair to his left. I had expected him to let Melinda sit in the middle, but he didn’t, kindly pulling out the chair between him and Melinda for me. I thanked him and commented:

So…I guess Best Boy should be joining us soon, too.

Mr. Exec: I just talked to him and he’s on his way.

Me: I know. He asked me to meet him here for drinks.

Mr. Exec: Oh! [Pause.] He invited you here?

Me: Yeah. Just to grab a drink. Small town, huh? [We laugh with just a touch of discomfort.]

I sat down and for the next 30 minutes, Mr. Exec, Melinda and I had a really nice conversation. There wasn’t any awkwardness, and there was a lot of laughter. I was reminded of how easy it had been to talk to Mr. Exec on our first date.

As I turned my head to face Mr. Exec, I couldn’t help but be drawn in to his blue-green eyes. His personality was magnetic, but I didn’t look at him in the same way that I had when we were dating a mere six weeks ago. I looked at him in a new light now, and I wondered if it would be possible for us to be friends.

I also wondered how the evening would change when Best Boy arrived. I guess I would find that out soon enough.

To be continued…

A new chapter…maybe

Improv Boy was out of the picture, and I found my lineup in May to be rather thin. I needed to remedy that quickly! When Best Boy texted me about meeting for drinks on Friday night, I happily said yes.

"Who's Best Boy?" you might be wondering.

Umm…Best Boy is Mr. Exec's best friend. Yeah. Now, friends and family members of ex-boyfriends are typically off-limits, but I didn't really consider Mr. Exec an ex-boyfriend. I'm sensing your skepticism through my computer screen so let me build my case:

Mr. Exec and I hadn't slept together. We had only gone out a handful of times. We didn't form an emotional connection and weren't friends. And, back in early April, Mr. Exec was the guy who failed to follow through on his offer to help me out after my concussion. Given all of those things, I felt like the "Friends and Family Rule" didn't apply in this instance so I made plans to go to Happy Hour with Best Boy.

I had met Best Boy last year at the same charity event where I had met Mr. Exec. Best Boy is 6'4" and light skinned with full lips and a muscular body that's not too thick. He's definitely good-looking, but his personality is what makes him stand out in a crowd.

"Why is that?" you might be asking.

Well, Best Boy has a laid-back attitude and is friendly to everyone he meets. He smiles more than any guy I know, and if there's a problem in the room, he tries to calmly and peacefully resolve it in a way that makes those around him happy. Like Mr. Exec, he's also an entrepreneur, but he approaches his business endeavors without a sense of cockiness or entitlement. While Mr. Exec is a belligerent bull in a china shop, Best Boy favors making connections with others and rolling with things.

Best Boy is also the master of Facebook Pokes. (Yes, you read that correctly.) When most guys poke me on Facebook, I remove the notification from my homepage without responding. But, with Best Boy, his incessant poking became a fun game. Our pokes led to us emailing on Facebook, which then led to an exchange of text messages. (He was one of the guys who was texting me while I was at the baseball game with Improv Boy.)

Best Boy asked me out for drinks, and we decided to meet at the bar at Ceiba. (I love that restaurant!)

Best Boy and I originally planned to meet at 7pm. But, I asked if we could move drinks to 8pm so that I could grab a power nap. He replied that he wanted me to feel rested and relaxed so 8pm was perfect.

As I was getting ready, I was texting with my friend, Autumn. I wondered if this was a date or a get-together between friends. It felt more like a date since he asked me out on a Friday night. But, I hadn't seen Best Boy in seven months so it might just have been a Happy Hour between friends.

Me to Autumn [knowing what a control freak Mr. Exec is]: I wonder if Mr. Exec knows we're going out. Or, if he orchestrated this for Best Boy to try to talk to me? Or, if he's going to show up?

Autumn: I don't know. I doubt it, though.

Me: Yeah, that would just be unnecessary drama. I'm going to have fun whatever happens, though.

As I was heading out the door, I noticed that it was raining and grabbed a small umbrella. When I got outside, though, I realized that it was pouring! It was that type of torrential rain that sprays sideways so there was no way for me not to get drenched. I usually like to walk to Ceiba, but when I found an empty cab, I nabbed it as quickly as I could.

When I got inside the cab, I noticed just how wet I was. The bottom of my jeans was soaked, and the back of my hair was drenched so that 80% of my hair looked perfect and 20% hung wet and shapeless. I just exhaled and laughed to myself. What could I do?

My phone vibrated with a call from Best Boy as I started to drip dry. Best Boy was just leaving his office and worried that he might be late given the storm.

Me: No problem. You were the one who was cool when I asked to meet later so whenever you get there is perfect. Just drive safely. It's nasty outside.

Best Boy: I know. It looks like Armageddon. [We laugh.] So, are you at Ceiba yet?

Me: No, I'm in a cab on H.

Best Boy: So…I just got off the phone with Mr. Exec.

Me: Uh…huh.

Best Boy: I'm not sure if this matters, but he's at the bar.

Me: At Ceiba?

Best Boy: Yes.

Me: He's there…now?!?

Best Boy: Yes. Is that going to be a problem?

Was I being punked?

To be continued…

And a miss!

Improv Boy had just informed me that he didn’t want to come upstairs with me because he didn’t think we had a future together. I stood outside my building with a confused expression on my face. I kept waiting for the punch line.

Me: Did I miss something?

Improv Boy: Well, I really support your decision to adopt, but I don’t want to be a father again.

Me: Ooookay. Where is this coming from? [I had told him about my plans to adopt two weeks ago.]

Improv Boy: I’m the type of person who just has to let you know what I’m feeling.

Me: Is this a joke?

Improv Boy: No. I also don’t know that we have the best chemistry.

Me: I won’t disagree, but I was of the mindset to let things evolve naturally. [Pause.] Wait a minute, if you thought all these things, why did you rush into getting tested [for HIV/STDs]? And, why did you cancel your date with that other girl on Wednesday?

Improv Boy: Well, you know I’m a relationship guy so I like to focus on the girl that I’m dating. And, it was easy enough for me to get tested.

Me: Umm…k. You were the one who made a big deal about getting tested now, though, despite the fact that I wanted to wait to get to know each other better. If you felt this way, why didn’t you just tell me this earlier? We didn’t need to go to the game together. [Pause.] I introduced you to my friends tonight! This is embarrassing!

Improv Boy: This isn’t about them. No one needs to know anything. Oh, except you’ll blog about everything.

Me: I just wish you had told me sooner.

Improv Boy: When would you have rather I told you?

Me: Before you decided to buy tickets…when you came over for lunch today…at the game…

Improv Boy [interrupting]: You would have rather I told you at the game?

Me: Yeah, I would have. I would have just hung out with my friends then. [I neglect to mention that two other guys had texted me during the game.]

Improv Boy: You wouldn’t have liked that. That would have made it more embarrassing for you, I’m sure. Besides, I didn’t realize until we were heading home.

Me: In the cab? This makes no sense!

Improv Boy: I’m being honest with you and asking you to respect my feelings. I had hoped that you would be able to do that.

Throughout our conversation, several neighbors walked past us, saying hello and stopping so that I could pet their dogs.

Me: Can we just talk about this upstairs?

Improv Boy: I don’t feel comfortable going upstairs with you.

Me: Are you kidding me? [This came from a guy who stayed over my place after our first date.]

Improv Boy: No. I can’t fake my feelings and it wouldn’t be right.

Me: Even just to talk? Not have sex.

Improv Boy: No.

Me: So, we’re just going to keep doing this outside my building as my neighbors keep walking by?

Improv Boy: Yes. No one is paying attention.

Me: It’s definitely distracting, though. I still don’t understand how you won’t even come upstairs. I wish you had told me this at a different time.

Improv Boy: I’m asking you to respect me and what I’m saying.

Me: I respect what you’re saying. I just don’t respect when you decided to say it. It just doesn’t make sense.

Improv Boy: When would you have rather I told you?

Me: Either before we went to the game or tomorrow morning.

Improv Boy: You would have rather I told you after spending the night at your place? I don’t believe that!

Me: Yes, I would’ve. I’m like a guy in that regard. We had a plan, and I would’ve preferred if you had followed through with the plan.

Improv Boy: I’m not like that. I could never be disrespectful like that.

Me: But, you’re disrespectful enough to break up with me in front of my building as my neighbors keep walking by?

The conversation continued like that for another five minutes. The more he talked, the more confused I was. I wasn’t sad as much as I was shocked. When it was clear that nothing was to be gained from talking more, we parted ways.

That didn’t mean that the story was over, though. Whose blog did you think you were reading ;)? xoxo

A swing…

As my group left Nationals Park, some of my friends expressed interest in going to a bar.

Improv Boy: Do you want to join them?

Me: I could probably last for one drink, but that’s it. I’d rather go home. [Winking.] It’s your call, though.

Improv Boy [putting his arm around me]: Let’s go home then.

A friend, Samantha, asked if she could share a cab with us since we live in the same neighborhood. We found a cab quickly, and it was a nice, white Town Car with plush seats. Samantha and I got in the back, and Improv Boy sat in the front. The cab driver was friendly and deftly navigated his way through the streets as though he was Mario Andretti.

Me: You rock, Mr. Cab Driver! I need to get your card.

[I noticed a Pakistani flag in the window of the cab and smiled to myself. I wrote my college admissions essay about Benazir Bhutto, but I figured that now wasn’t the time to get into a discussion about world politics.]

Improv Boy [to the cab driver]: There’s a lot of traffic. Why is that?

Cab Driver: There was a game tonight.

Improv Boy: Football?

Cab Driver: No. Baseball.

Improv Boy: Oh, the Redskins were playing?

Cab Driver: No, the Nationals.

Improv Boy: Who were they playing? The Cowboys?

Cab Driver: No, the Marlins.

I had been rolling my eyes during the entire interaction, and finally had to speak up:

Hey. Be nice. He’s trying to get us home as quickly as possible so don’t mess with him.

What I really wanted to say:

Stop being such an asshole to the cab driver! You know damn well what was going on inside the stadium and why there’s so much traffic. You were at the freaking game! You’re not in improv class right now, and the cab driver probably thinks you’re making fun of him! That’s not cool so please just shut up!

For the rest of the ride home, Samantha and I talked about local sushi places. When we arrived in front of my place, Improv Boy offered to pay and wouldn’t even let Samantha contribute to the tip. After we said goodbye to Samantha, I said:

That was really nice of you! Thanks!

As we approached the front door to my building, Improv Boy commented:

So…I don’t think I’m going to come upstairs.

Me [confused]: Are you joking?

Improv Boy: No.

Me: Is something wrong?

Improv Boy: No. [Pause.] I just don’t think we have a future together.

To be continued…

Take me out to the ballgame

As I arrived at Nationals Park, I smiled as I recognized some of the men working security. (I used to be a regular at Washington Wizards games, and many of the guys also worked at the Verizon Center.) I exchanged a few pleasantries with two of the men who remembered me, and a thought crossed my mind:

Could I give up dating black men indefinitely to pursue my relationship with Improv Boy, a white guy?

For many, that wouldn’t be an issue. But, I’m different. I know and respect my type.

My phone vibrated with a text from Improv Boy, indicating that he, too, had just arrived at the park. I texted him my location and noticed him before he noticed me. I tried not to show my surprise at his attire. Improv Boy was wearing:

A soft denim Washington Nationals baseball cap;
A Hawaiian-style shirt from Old Navy; and
High-waisted, baggy, light denim jeans with red stitching and a couple of holes in the legs that were not put there by the jeans company.

I realize that I might sound like a snob, and that’s not my intention. It wasn’t about how much money he spent on his clothes or that he was wearing jeans and a shirt. (We were at a baseball game, after all.) But rather, it seemed like Improv Boy didn’t care much about his appearance. He had mentioned to me before that he’s a “minimalist.” But, there’s a difference between being a minimalist and looking like you just came from a keg party.

When Abigail, our mutual friend, saw Improv Boy, she asked:

What’s up with the Blossom jeans?

I tried to stifle my laughter, but I just couldn’t. Yes, Improv Boy was wearing jeans straight out of the ’90s television show, Blossom. As Joey Lawrence would say, “Whoa!“

The pre-game activities were a bit of sensory overload for me. Add sensory overload to my already heightened senses – thanks, Post-Concussion Syndrome – and I was sick within three minutes of entering the park. I let Improv Boy know that he could enjoy beers and live music with the group, but he insisted on walking me to our seats and lovingly holding my head. He stayed just like that for 20 minutes, refusing to get up even though he was starving and needed to go to the bathroom.

Maybe I could handle the Blossom jeans, after all?

With each inning, I began to feel better. Improv Boy continued to take care of me and was kind to my friends, buying them a round of drinks. Improv Boy also gave me space so I could socialize. Quite a few people in the group commented that they could tell how much Improv Boy liked me by how well he treated me. That was nice to hear, even though deep down, I already knew that!

At certain points during the game, Improv Boy and I relaxed and talked while we watched the Nationals hold their own. We discussed going to the beach later in the summer, watching World Cup and NFL games together, and a few naughty items that were on our to-do list ;)! That part of the evening was fun and easy.

But, some of the evening was rather awkward. During the game, Improv Boy sat between Abigail and me. Four of my girlfriends were seated in front of us. In the first inning, Improv Boy asked us:

So…how do you play this game?

[One girlfriend and I look at him with a confused expression on our faces.]

Where do you kick the ball?

I realized that he was joking and rolled my eyes at him. I also made a comment that he might not want to say that in front of a group of girls who know their sports.

But, that didn’t stop him from repeating that bit again in the fourth inning…and the eighth…to the same audience! I let him know that it wasn’t funny the first time.

I also noticed that every 10 minutes or so, he would say something to the group to try to get their attention or make them laugh. That worked about 20% of the time. The rest of the time, I saw the girls in the row in front of me, rolling their eyes and biting their tongues.

Improv Boy was so much fun to be around at the Happy Hour at Clyde’s, but tonight, it felt like he was trying too hard. I wondered which side of his personality was the more dominant. If I’m dating a guy, I’d like him to be able to join me in a variety of social settings without having to worry that he’ll annoy people.

As the game ended, Improv Boy and I moved to the bar to watch the fireworks over Nationals Park. He put one arm around my waist and massaged my neck with his other hand. We chatted to one of my friends about the meal that I made for him. Improv Boy complimented my cooking and said that he would gladly make the next dinner for us.

There were some ups and downs to the evening, but the night seemed to end on a high note. Little did I know that there would be more fireworks in store for me – outside of the park.

To be continued…

Feeling safe

Improv Boy and I never talked about whether we were a couple, but we definitely interacted as though we were in a relationship. The dynamic between us felt good and easy so I just tried to roll with it. Whatever was meant to be would be anyway, right?

During one conversation, I told Improv Boy that I had been meditating, when I decided to contact him out of the blue. (He had emailed me regularly back in March, but I wasn’t interested in him so I stopped replying.) I then learned that Improv Boy had thought that I was incredibly rude for not responding to his initial email.

Improv Boy: Girls don’t appreciate how tough it is for us guys. It takes a lot of courage to ask a girl out. And, I did that, and you didn’t even write back. That’s why I wrote the second email, saying that it would be terribly rude of me to have mistakenly sent an email to the wrong person. [He pulls up the email that he had sent me on his iPhone.]

Me: I don’t get it.

Improv Boy: That was my way of saying that YOU were rude.

Me: Oh, really? [I view that behavior as passive-aggressive, but I also respect from where he was coming. I hadn’t been responsive to his emails.]

Improv Boy: When you emailed me after a month about meeting up at Clyde’s, I called Jen [an ex-girlfriend with whom he’s still close friends] to ask if she thought I should go. I didn’t know if I should give you a chance since you had acted so rudely toward me at first. And, I didn’t want to be at a bar with all of your lawyer friends. [I laughed out loud since very few of my close friends are attorneys, which he now knows.] But, Jen convinced me that if I felt enough of a connection to ask you out in the first place, I should meet you for a drink.

Me [kissing him]: Well, I’m glad that you did. [We kiss again.] Really glad.

We smiled and giggled to each other about how everything had transpired. Improv Boy also informed me that he had plans to go out with another girl that week, but that he had canceled the date because of me. That made me smile since I had done the same exact thing with Mr. Attorney.

Improv Boy: I’m traditional, and I prefer to date just one person at a time.

Me: Yeah, me too.

[Now, in the past, that wouldn’t have been the case. But, I was in a much different place now.]

The following day, Improv Boy texted me from the doctor’s office to let me know that he was getting tested for HIV/STDs. He also wrote me the following:

My doctor told me I’m not allowed to date lawyers. He married one. He said I should run!

Normally, the commitment-phobe in me would have been concerned that he talked about me with his doctor and used the word, “marriage,” even in jest. But, I decided not to read too much into any of that and just wrote, “lol,” in response. We were dating. He had a good heart. That’s all that mattered.

The following day, we had planned to go to see a Washington Nationals game with friends. The weather was perfect for a baseball game, as is often the case in DC in May. Improv Boy had bought our tickets in advance and offered to drop mine off since we would be arriving at the game separately.

Me: I don’t mind waiting in front of the stadium for you.

Improv Boy: Why should you have to wait, though? I’m happy to drop your ticket off at your place so you can just go the seats when you arrive.

I smiled, thinking how nice it was to be dating such a caring guy. When he arrived at my place, we began to make out in the foyer…then the living room…and then the kitchen. (That was definitely becoming a pattern for us.) I was packing him up the rest of the Chicken Parmigiana for lunch, when he said:

If the game is too much for you [given that I have Post-Concussion Syndrome], just say the word and we can leave.

Me [smiling again at his kindness]: I should be fine.

Improv Boy: I hope you are, but if you’re not, we can leave at any time and just come home and have sex.

I paused before responding since he knew that I wanted to wait a few more weeks before adding sex into the mix.

Me: Well, it’s not the 29th yet.

Improv Boy [smiling like a giddy school boy]: But I got tested yesterday!

Me: It’s not like you have the results yet, though…

Improv Boy [interrupting me]: But, I will on Monday!

Me: We can talk about it then. See you tonight and thanks for the tickets.

I decided to let the sex issue go for a few days and just focus on this evening. I had a feeling that it was going to be a great night!

The LayaSpot

Lotus Blooms' customers request that the boutique carry Fun Factory's LAYAspot more than any other massage toy! The toy was also featured on Oprah as a "must have" product in the Beginner's Guide to Erotica. Many online sources swear by the Laya Spot, but does the toy meet with my approval?

What's good about the Laya Spot?

It's a Fun Factory product! As I mentioned in my review of the fabulous Smart Balls Teneo Duo, Fun Factory is a German sex toy company known for its aesthetically pleasing and top performing products! If you purchase a Fun Factory toy, you can take comfort in the fact that the item is high quality, and free of toxic ingredients and allergens.

The Laya Spot is waterproof. You can bring this toy into the shower, bath or hot tub for added versatility. The product has seven different speeds and three different pulsations.


Press and hold the positive sign (+) in the middle of the toy to turn it on and increase as desired. After the seventh press of the positive sign, you can continue to press it to change from constant vibrations to varying, pulsating rhythms. To decrease the intensity or return to constant vibrations, press the negative sign (-). The toy takes only two (2) AAA batteries, and yet, it feels powerful in your hand.

The Laya Spot is made of silky smooth elastomer. It's soft to the touch and compatible with any kind of lubricant.

What didn't I like about the Laya Spot?

  1. The shape. Fun Factory claims that the design is ergonomically friendly. I found it awkward and uncomfortable. The tip of the Laya Spot is bulbous and doesn't maximize sensations. I tried the toy on two separate occasions. It was difficult to hold if I was on my stomach — so much so that the bottom of the Laya Spot kept detaching, thereby turning the toy off. On my back, the product didn't rest on comfortably. No matter how I positioned the toy, it wasn't pleasurable for more than a few minutes.
  2. Its limitations. The Laya Spot is for external, clitoral use only. It's not meant for vaginal or anal use. There are toys that aren't designed for internal use, but still can be used with caution inside your pussy or anus. The Laya just isn't one of them. If your man enjoys light vibrations on his balls or perineum during oral sex or a hand job, then you can try using the Laya Spot in that capacity. Beyond that, though, you and your partner are out of luck.
  3. Bad vibrations. In my hand, the toy felt powerful. But, in practice, I remembered that the toy only holds two AAA batteries. The product did not deliver – even on its highest vibrations. (One reviewer claimed that the Laya Spot has 2/3 of the power of the Hitachi Magic Wand. I'm rolling my eyes at that statement!) Try though I did, it was impossible for me to enjoy the Laya Spot.

Who might enjoy the Laya Spot?

  • A first-time toy user;
  • A woman post-childbirth or illness;
  • A couple bringing a toy into the bedroom for the first time; or
  • A person who only uses sex toys in the water.

The Laya Spot retails for $65.90. I just can't justify recommending that you spend that much for this product. There are other smaller massage toys that are more economical and versatile. There are also stellar products that can satisfy newbies, couples, long-time toy users and women with vaginal pain issues.

Personally, I'd give the Laya Spot One Squeal. If you're a sex toy beginner or water lover, then I'll go up to Two Squeals. But, imagine those squeals as very wimpy.

Buh baya, Laya! xoxo

* Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the Laya Spot free of charge in exchange for my honest review of the product.

City Girl's Squeals of Approval Chart:

1 Squeal: Bad. This toy is not worth your money. Do not pass go! Do not pay $2, let alone $200.
2 Squeals: Slightly Sub-Par. You won't hate this toy, but you won't necessarily like it either.
3 Squeals: Average/Good. This toy might not be the most innovative or satisfying, but it serves its purpose.
4 Squeals: Very good. A strong sex toy with minimal negatives that will be part of your regular line-up.
5 Squeals: Great. No toy does it better!

Giving things a chance

I had just realized that I had been mistakenly texting my high school boyfriend, Boston Christian, all afternoon, instead of the guy that I was currently dating, Improv Boy. Boston Christian had played along in a manner that was mostly funny, a tad embarrassing and rather surprising given the fact that he was married. I also didn’t know what to say to Improv Boy about the day’s events, as he was standing in front of me.

As my cheeks reddened, I laughed out loud numerous times. When I explained the story to Improv Boy, he chuckled uncomfortably. Throughout the evening, I wanted to bring up how humorous I found the situation, but I didn’t. It was clear to me that Improv Boy wasn’t as entertained as I was.

When Improv Boy headed to the bathroom, I quickly texted Boston Christian.

Me: Omg!!! Rofl!!! I started dating a guy named Christian. Just realized when you wrote about a game because he’s over. So funny and so sorry! Xoxo

Boston Christian: I had a feeling… =)

I wanted to text more with Christian, but I knew that my attention should be focused on my date. I put my phone away and went back to the kitchen. While dinner was cooking in the oven, Improv Boy and I alternated between enjoying our drinks (Italian Chianti for him and diet pepsi for me) and making out. I hadn’t cooked in a while and I wasn’t sure if this recipe was a winner. But, when dinner was served, he complimented my cooking several times and even went back for seconds!

Me: I hadn’t realized how much I had missed cooking until tonight. Hopefully, I can make more meals for you in the near future.

Improv Boy: I’d like that. And, you know I love to cook so I’ll help you.

Me [smiling]: That would be nice.

We sat very close to each other as we were eating, brushing each other’s legs and kissing between bites. He then looked at me and said:

Guess what I’m doing on Thursday?

Me: I don’t know. What?

Improv Boy: Going to the doctor to get tested [for HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases]!

Me: Really?

Improv Boy: Yep!

I smiled and thanked him, but I really wanted to say, “Whooooaaa! It’s way too soon for that!”

Our first one-on-one date was April 29th. When the topic of sex came up that evening, I let him know that I didn’t want to have sex until we had been together for at least a month (May 29th). And, he made an appointment to get tested on May 6th! Yes, I had a crush on him, but it just seemed premature to decide if we were in an exclusive relationship. We had only dated eight days and were still getting to know each other!

My normal reaction would have been to run or at least to retreat a bit. But, I decided to approach this situation differently. I exhaled. I would know soon enough if Improv Boy and I were a match, and I didn’t have to have sex with him if I wasn’t ready. Plus, after dating several guys who didn’t take the HIV/STD testing issue as seriously as I did, it was refreshing to find someone who felt the same way and took the initiative to get tested.

After dinner, we moved to the couch to watch a movie and resume making out. The subject then turned to more serious matters.

Improv Boy: So, I’ve noticed your Medical Alert bracelet.

Me: Yeah, I figured you did.

Improv Boy: I know you have some health stuff you’re dealing with. I used to be an EMT so I want to be able to know how to help you if you need it. Mind telling me about your conditions?

Me [taking a deep breath]: Sure.

We talked for about 15 minutes about my health issues and how he might be of assistance to me. I made sure to mention what I learned from my conversation with “Buckeyes” Boy. (I hadn’t realized until “Buckeyes” Boy had pointed it out last year that I take for granted that my new boyfriends just automatically understand what to do when my conditions act up.)

After the movie ended, Improv Boy and I also decided to go to a baseball game that Friday evening with some friends of mine. Abigail, my friend who does comedy with Improv Boy, would be there, too.

Improv Boy: Will the game be too much for you? [I have Post-Concussion Syndrome so loud noises and crowds can be very disorienting.]

Me: It might be, but it’s worth a try, right?

Improv Boy: Okay. I’ll buy the tickets.

We retired to the bedroom for me to tuck him in. As our arms and lips locked, I felt happy and safe. Yes, we had gotten close very quickly, and I didn’t know what the future would hold for us. But, I decided to give my relationship with Improv Boy a chance. He seemed worth it.

Texting fun

I had a little crush on Improv Boy, and it felt good. We were in that blissful early phase of a relationship. I couldn't help but smile when I was with him, and I couldn't stop thinking about him when we were apart.

As much as we were seeing each other, I still wanted to wait to have sex with him. (When I have a crush on a guy, I can tend to rush into the physical side of the relationship. I didn't want to do that this time.) I suggested that we wait until a month after our first one-on-one date. I even sent him a Google Invite for May 29th with the event title: When the magic will happen. I hoped that would reaffirm my point in a way that was at least somewhat light and endearing.

He laughed at the invite, but commented that we wouldn't still be together if we didn't have sex before then. I reiterated my desire for us to get tested before we decided to have sex, and thankfully, he didn't seem averse to that. I figured that I would broach that matter again in two weeks. Maybe I didn't need to wait the whole month, right?

When I awoke Tuesday morning, I decided that I would actually cook dinner for Improv Boy that evening. I selected an easy menu of Chicken Parmigiana with Angel Hair and bought all the ingredients, a bottle of wine and cupcakes for dessert. I also had to purchase a casserole dish. I really don't cook often!

I texted Improv Boy to say that I would be cooking that evening, joking that I would be making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As the day progressed, I got a migraine that would not go away. That normally wouldn't be a problem, but for the fact that my migraine medicine is so strong that I can only take it twice a week. Unfortunately, I had to hold out for at least another 24 hours before my next dose.

I wanted to give Improv Boy a heads up that I might not be feeling my best so I sent him a text:

Me: 3rd migraine in 5 days. But, definitely, definitely, definitely want to see you, cook for you and cook with you ;).

Improv Boy: I'm sorry for your pain, but I like the sound of all that kitchen activity. Where are you?

Me: My couch

[I was able to relax a bit since I had already started the preparation. All that was left to do was put the dish in the oven and boil the pasta when he arrived.]

Improv Boy: Probably the best place for you to be with a migraine. Do you need anything?

Me: I'm good — thanks! And, there might be a few things you can do for me after wine, pb&j, and dessert ;).

Improv Boy: I hope that your head feels better by dinner. What kind of wine do you prefer with your pb&j?

For me it depends on the varietal of the jelly. A Concord grape gets a cabernet sauvignon, strawberry goes with champagne, a nice zinfandel for black currant, etc. And after refreshments, you were thinking of a nice drive around the neighborhoods? Warm bath? Foot massage?

[I was beaming at this point because he was so incredibly sweet!]

Me: I asked the wine guy downstairs what bottle would go with pb&j and he chose an Italian Chianti. But, if you want to bring something else, please do so.

Lol about afterward. I do have a bathtub product for couples to review :-D.

Improv Boy: I didn't even think of Chianti! Good choice! Perhaps we'll just let you have the wine and I can show you my appreciation.

I smiled, laugh out loud, and got up to set the table. Since Improv Boy was always very punctual, I figured that he had sent his last text right before heading over to my place. Just as I expected, there was a knock on my door at exactly 6:30. I couldn't contain how happy I was to see him, and we proceeded to make out in the foyer…and the living room…and the kitchen. Our lips finally parted enough so that I could begin baking the entrée.

Improv Boy: How was your day?

Me: Better now.

Improv Boy: What was wrong?

Me: I have another migraine. I told you that, though.

My phone vibrated to indicate that a text had come in. I opened the message to see the following:

I hope you are feeling better. I'm off to my game, but I will be thinking of the job left undone at your place ;).

Me [smiling]: Did you send this before you got here?

Improv Boy: Send what?

Me: A text about me feeling better.

Improv Boy: No.

[Long pause.]

Me: Did you get my texts this afternoon about wine and pb&j and bathtime fun?

Improv Boy: No.

I looked at Improv Boy and then my phone, completely confused. And then, I did that again. As I started to put the pieces together, my eyes got wide, my jaw dropped open, and my face became flushed.

Improv Boy had the same first name as my high school boyfriend, Boston Christian. I had been texting Boston Christian – now married and definitely not Improv Boy – all afternoon. And, Boston Christian had played along.

Me: Oh. My. God.

To be continued…