The End of a Fucking Era

I think last night was the housemate's attempt at getting me drunk for the purpose of fucking me. Why I have no idea; if he really wanted to fuck me he could just say so. Of course, being so open about what one wants isn't always so easy, now is it? Drummer called the housemate asking him to come over and hang out, stating that they'd bought some mudslide, and that ex-Housemate #2's new girlfriend would be over as well. (Side note: the ex-housemate got laid a few nights ago, hooking up with some girl he works with. Apparently they're "together" now.) Housemate declined and said he thought he'd spend this Friday night with me — so I immediately figured he had planned something to do. By the end of their conversation Housemate had mudslide on the brain and we went down to a nearby liquor store and picked up a bottle of TGIFriday's premixed mudslide. I hadn't tried this stuff before, and has some doubts about it due to the housemate describing it as "chocolate milk mixed with coffee and liquor". I'm lactose intolerant and haven't had chocolate milk in years and now even plain milk just tastes nasty; but, I was willing to give it a try.

Not remembering what chocolate milk tastes like, I couldn't confirm the housemate's description of mudslide. To me, however, it tasted like drinking flavoured fake creamer without mixing it with any coffee: rich, syrupy, with a lingering tinge of alcohol on your tongue. (Now, let's not ask just how it is I know what flavoured creamer tastes like raw...) Plus this particular pre-made drink came with only about 10% alcohol. I know I haven't been drinking long, but my pre-21 predictions were true: having come from a family of alcoholics, it takes more than a shot or even a couple of beers to get me drunk. And this stuff was not doing it, especially since I just didn't want to drink it. And so I spent the evening lounging on the couch with the housemate, watching Spike TV and not doing anything. He didn't want to watch any movies we had, play any video games, or walk to the park nearby and hangout there. Tell me, doesn't that sound like an attempt at getting me drunk for the purpose of fucking? Cuz it sure as hell doesn't sound like an exciting Friday night, that's for sure.

I think the sexual aspects of my relationship with the housemate have dwindled, due to either lack of use or of caring. The last couple of times we had sex just left me wanting — after the encounter I'd actually gone immediately to my trusty vibe to pull out a few decent orgasms. That was a big indicator to me about the usefulness of having sex with him. I tend to average in the mid-teens for orgasms during a normal round of sex, and with him I really had to concentrate to get one or two. That just isn't right; it was sex for the point of sex on a level I haven't had to deal with for a long time. And I know exactly what it means: time to find a new fuckbuddy. Which is too bad, as the housemate certainly has some skills in bed. But I think he's forgotten them, or decided simply to not apply them to sex with me. ::sigh:: Oh well, it was bound to happen eventually. Maybe if I can find a guy who can manage to kiss me appropriately I'll be good for a while.