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So I promised you another story about Tiger. Hold onto your Cowboy hat – cause here goes:
Well, tme to go to Church!
I really don’t remember giving Tiger my phone number, but I must have when I was under his spell as I received a call from him about a month after I first met him.
Turns out he wasn’t all that mad at me for leaving him at the bar. He most likely doesn’t even remember the entire evening. We were both partaking too much with what the bartender had to offer. Tiger gets a little crazier than anyone I’ve met. I’ll have more stories on how much he likes to indulge. But for that evening, he just remembers the boat ride, dinner, dancing and of course the unforgettable make-out session we had in the side bar.
To be honest, I haven’t forgotten about it either. It was that good. A young man, with a firm (but short) body, jeans that were so tight you saw everything he had to offer, . . . a HUGE . . . belt buckle (what did you think I was going to say?) cowboy hat and boots. (Oh yeah, the boots. Boots always have me turned on.) Bulging biceps, strong hands and of course soft lips that made me tingle. Can you picture this guy on a romance novel cover?
During the upcoming phone relationship we have he sent me a picture of him with no shirt on, bronze, broad chest, glistening with sweat, and flexing his muscles while roofing a house. I almost got into a car accident when I received the picture. PSA – Public Service Announcement: Don’t text or receive hot pictures while driving!
I don’t think I’ll ever forget or want to forget our first make out session. I’ll be in my assigned seat at the nursing home cafeteria yelling out my story as my table mates can’t hear as they chew their soft dinner. They may have even turned off their hearing aids just so they don’t have to hear this story once again. I don’t care – I’ll tell this story as loud as I can to whoever wants or doesn't want to hear just to relive my younger years.
“Hey there sexy lady, this is ahhh, ughmm . . . . . . . . . . Tiger. How you doing? I wanted to talk to you a little bit. I was uhhh think’n . . . . . . about you . . . . . . . . . . . . . and our ummm night together. Ummmm yeah, . . . . . . give me a call if I like, yeah, I mean if you like. HA HA! OK. Talk to you later.”
Oh yeah, this is the little Tiger I know. His words come out so slowly as if he’s just figuring out how to talk. He’s as thick as two short planks. I can’t believe he’s calling me. I start to laugh but then get a small thrill run up my spine and want to call him back.
What stops me? Should I write a list?
· He’s 15 years younger than me
· He’s 5’4”
· He lives with his parents
· He has a reputation in the neighborhood of being a rough kid, likes to get into bar fights and drinks too much
· Dumber than an box of rocks – (but I do find out later he’s not as dumb as he gives off)
After you read this list you are probably wondering why I get a small thrill that he’s calling. Should I remind you of the first description of him in paragraph 4? Sometimes, I can be shallow and just want a good time.
The next call I receive from him is when I’m on a “Girls’ Weekend” up north. I was stumbling out of the bar after consuming approximately four cherry bombs, thanks to Bella, and a number of beers. We all pile into the car and my phone rings.
“Cheetahtort! Your phone is ringing! Here let me answer!” screams Bella as we are driving with all the windows down as some of us are smoking.
“Yellow – this is Cheetahtort’s phone. Who’s calling?” Bella answers.
“Hey there sexy lady!” Tiger drawls.
“Well, yes, I am a sexy lady, thank you – but this isn’t Cheetahtort, this is Bella. Again, who’s calling?”
“I bet you are sexy. HA HA! Um, . . . yeah, I was looking for . . . Cheetahtort. Did I get the wrong number? If I can’t find her, should I call you again?”
“I’m only going to ask this one more time! Who’s calling!?”
“Ahhh, yeah, . . . right, I’m sorry, this is Tiger looking for a sexy lady, named Cheetahtort.”
Bella puts the phone to her chest and screams out in the small Nissan Sentra “Ahhh, Cheetahtort! – who’s Tiger??? Girls, someone’s holding out on us! Cheetahtort has a Tiger calling her!”
For about 45 seconds all you could hear in the car was cat calls! Pun intended. I thought only men acted like this.
“Ooooooo Cheetahtort has a MAN or should I say a BIG Cat calling her!” Lauren says while trying her hardest not to run over a deer on our way home.
“A tiger. Grrrrrrrr, Roaaaaarrrrrrr,” says Maddie as she raises her hand up like claws.
“Hey kitten; you have a Tiger on the phone, that’s puuuurrrrfect! One cat calling another cat!” says Coco.
Wow! With friends like these who needs friends?
As I’m laughing, I grab a hold of the phone. “Yeah, Tiger, I’ll call you back,” and hang up. I think I might have heard some laughing on the other end and a “wait” as I hit end.
“What the hell Cheetahtort? Who the hell is Tiger?” someone yells, I’m not sure as I stare at my phone in awe.
Maddie is quietly laughing in the back waiting to hear how I explain Tiger.
I explain the whole first “Tiger” meeting to them on our way home.
They are all on pins and needles until the point I say ‘I drive away’.
“Cheetahtort – who cares if he’s young! You need to get yourself a ‘Frank’”. A Frank is a name of a great husband of a good friend of Maddie’s who happens to be a lot younger.
They all seem to agree, so I decide to call him back. This starts our phone relationship. Since he lives a good distance away, that’s all we have for quite a while. Text messages, phone conversations and pictures. Did I send pictures back? Yes, but just one. Curious? Ask. J
I must confess there was one Saturday that Tiger called me early and said he’s in the neighborhood and wanted to see if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee with him. I give an excuse that I’m up at a friend’s house many miles away as I was too scared to see him. When we were ending our conversation he says he was going to walk up to the coffee shop. When I hang up I struggle to get some pants and a shirt on, get into my car and do a drive-by where he’s going to be walking.
Sure enough I see my little Tiger strutting down the sidewalk with his tight jeans, cowboy boots, no cowboy hat, but a bit of a scruff on his chin.
Damn . . . . he’s sexy.
I wipe the drool off my chin and do a couple more drive-bys. After my third drive-by, yes third, I take a real look at myself in the rear view mirror and decide I’m a scary stalker and go home. Again, sometimes I get in my way. Why didn’t I stop to pick him up and enjoy the afternoon with him? Still to this day I can’t answer that.
He calls me later that night to tell me he saw a white car driving by a couple times and asking me if it was me checking him out. This man has confidence and boy oh boy, was I busted!
After awhile of not seeing each other, our phone relationship ends . . . until . . . I go back to his small town of Siren for the 4th of July.
Siren is a town where when you first enter the establishments, the girls look at you with the stink eye thinking ‘who are they and what are they doing in our bar?’ ‘They better not be interested in my man!’ It’s a place where the men have been with all the women and want fresh meat. Everyone knows each others’ business and everyone just wants to drink, smoke and get laid.
I like going there because overall, no one knows me and I can do what I want without having to explain anything to anybody.
This July 4th weekend, we are all sitting by the lake and reminiscing with Carly, Maddie, and Bethany. We are laughing at what happened last year.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if I ran into him again this year?” I say wishing it would happen.
“I think you will as I see him every once in awhile. He has quite the reputation down here.” says Carly.
I start to get excited for what the night might give. I make sure to look the best I can. I put on a cute short black skirt and a white tank, high heels and the hottest undergarments I have.
You never know what might happen. . .
We get to town and go to the Legion right away for a couple of cocktails. I love going out in this town as I feel it’s a vacation town, where everyone left their inhabitations at home. Maddie, Bethany and I step out for a smoke and there are a lot of people making their way to Hungry Hippo.
“Cheetahtort, isn’t that Tiger?” asks Bethany as we watch a group of people walk by.
I look the direction Bethany is pointing and I don’t have to look too long to notice the tiny dude walking away from me with everything I want for the evening.
“Ooooo, you know it – that’s Tiger!” I say getting some nervous energy.
I wanted to see him again, but all of a sudden I was nervous. What if he looks at me and regrets our night? What if he realizes how old I am? What if he doesn’t even want to talk to me?
Who cares? Right? That’s what I go with, I just want to have fun with or without him.
We finish our drinks at the Legion and make our way to the Hungry Hippo to hear the band.
We grab a couple beers and/or red bulls and vodka and walk out to where the band is playing. It’s packed with a full-range of people. Young beautiful and not-so-beautiful people; older people that you wonder if they are up way past their bedtimes; the drunks; the trailer park trash, the kids getting in on fake ID’s, and the normal, like me and my friends, of course J.
It doesn’t take but 3 seconds before Neal screams “TIGER! GET OVER HERE – CHEETAHTORT HAS BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU ALL NIGHT!”
Thanks Neil, I think and shake my head in embarrassment. I truly wanted to strangle him to brink of death, let him breathe just so I could do it again.
I run up to Neil “Shut up!” I look at him so irritated!
He laughs and says it again, maybe even louder, just to piss me off.
Tiger hears his name, looks over, sees me, smiles, puts his hand through his hair, and walks over to me.
It’s almost like he’s walking in slow motion; looking like he stepped out of a romance novel cover once again with the wind machine blowing his hair back.
As he gets closer, his smile widens. He’s finally by my side. But Neal grabs him, pulls him away from me and starts telling Tiger that all Cheetahtort has on her mind is Tiger. I wanted to slap him. Well, maybe more than that; stab, strangle, suffocate and bury were also on my mind.
This doesn’t faze Tiger as he slowly steps away from Neal and walks back over to me. He doesn’t say anything but smiles up to me.
I smile back with my flushed face and thank God that it is dark out so he can’t see how embarrassed I am.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I say shyly smiling to him.
“Don’t worry, I remember how Neal is. Don’t give it a second thought.”
He takes a gulp of his beer, swallows and says “I was . . . hoping I was going to see you tonight.”
“You were?”
“You bet – I was going to call you to ask if you were gonna come, but I thought maybe you forgot about me.”
“How could I forget Tiger?”
“HAHA – You’re right. You know, I’m kind of a big deal,” he says in his cocky funny way.
We talk for awhile, and then he excuses himself to see the friends he came with.
Addison, a friend of mine that has a cabin down there, comes up to me with a devilish smile, “Cheetahtort, Tiger huh? You gonna make out?”
“What? I don’t know. He left to talk with his friends,” I say laughing.
She then introduces me to a couple of her neighbors. They start to tell me they know his family. They are a good family in the neighborhood, but he has quite the reputation. While listening to them, I feel a warm strong hand on my arm.
I turn to see that Tiger is back with a beer for me.
Ahh, he’s back – but he also has a beer! Bonus!
“Sorry about that. I wanted to tell my friends that you actually showed up and that I was going to be with you,” Tiger says while handing me the beer.
I take a big gulp of the beer he brought. I didn’t realize I needed that as much as I did. I smiled down to him, give a small laugh and then get more nervous than I thought was possible.
What did he mean he was going to be with me tonight? I may have put my sexiest undergarments on – but was I really ready for this? It’s been so long! Did I really want this? Yes – I think. Could I really entertain him for the evening? Yes – are you kidding me? What are we going to talk about? Maybe we don’t need to talk. . . Oooo, I like the sound of that.
Maddie and Bethany come over to say hi. He’s so kind to them. He remembers them from our first meeting. They don’t stay too long as they can tell the two of us want to be alone in this crowded bar.
“I keep thinking about our kiss and how we didn’t get to finish,” he says confidently and rises on his toes to give me a kiss.
It was a sweet soft kiss like I remembered and I want more. That shy woman from the time before was gone. I want more. I need more. I deserve more.
“Tiger, let’s go over here.” I say pulling him by the hand to a corner of the bar where there is a chair. I needed to be on an equal level as him. Bending over was going to get tiring. There was only one chair – but we didn’t care. I sat down. He straddled me, held my face and started to continue where we left off a year before. It was just as nice as and a little better than last time. Why? Maybe because we both felt like we knew each other a little more.
We are there for the rest of the evening. I look over to my friends and they are pointing and laughing at me. I find out later that they were all wondering where we went and were hysterical with laughter when they saw him on my lap. I guess he looked like a little child in his Mom’s arms, but we weren’t doing what mother and son would do.
Maddie walked over to us.
“Hey guys, we are thinking we would go back to the cabin and sit around the bonfire. What do you think? Tiger, you can come with us if you’d like?
“Do you want to come back with us?” I ask.
Uh-huh,” was his only reply as he kisses my neck. “I want to be with you. I’m coming home with you this time. Cheetahtort, I’m not letting you go.”
“Tiger, I’m not promising anything!”
“Cheetahtort, I don’t care! I just want to be with you!” he says with authority.
Oh yeah – I like this! But knowing that he wanted more. Hey, I’m not stupid.
“Maddie, do you have a condom?” I say quietly to her so Tiger can’t hear.
“No! I don’t! What the hell? Are you going to have sex tonight?”
“I don’t know, I just want to be careful, in case that happens,” I say not recognizing myself.
I run over to Bethany. She doesn’t either but she is so surprised by my question that all I see is her dropped jaw.
I run over to Addison. “Addison, do you happen to have a condom?” I yelled this question as the band ended their song and went suddenly quiet. I got so embarrassed especially when I realize the straight-laced neighbors that I just met might have heard me.
“HAHA!” Addison laughs. “Cheetahtort – for Tiger???”
“You bet! It might happen!” I say with all the confidence in the world – but really inside I’m scared to death.
“You go girl! But I’m sorry – I don’t have one. Go check out the bathroom!” Addison says while shaking her head and laughing at me.
I run to the ladies room. You’d think at this type of bar they would have condoms! You’d think they have a variety of condoms. You know the ones with ticklers and stuff – but NO!
As I’m leaving the ladies room, I notice Tiger waiting for me.
“Whatcha doing?” he says while taking a hold of my hand.
“Looking for a condom, do you have one?”
“What? I thought nothing was going to happen?” he says surprised but happy.
“I’m not promising anything; I just want to be prepared,” I say trying to make him understand that this still could possibly not happen. I don’t want to get his hopes up.
The poor guy, I’m giving him such mixed signals. Yes! No! Maybe?
We slowly walk out of the bar because it’s so crowded and pass by his brothers and sisters. I think I might have received a couple shocking looks from them. They might have been thinking . . . What on earth? How old is she? What is she doing with him? What is he doing with her? There goes our Tiger making more mistakes. . .
I got a little self-conscious, looked over to Tiger and he was proudly walking me through the crowd, obviously not being concerned with all the looks, but maybe focusing on what might actually happen tonight. He’s so confused.
His hand in mine and his confidence made me feel a little better and my head started to rise.
“Come on Cheetahtort and Tiger, we’re leaving!” says Carly.
I’m relieved, as I know that Tiger is welcome in their home.
We pile into the truck and drive back to their cabin. Tiger is holding my hand and trying to keep up with the badgering we are receiving that we are now together (for the night). I notice that he doesn’t care. He’s so laid back and this is like water off a duck’s back. Again, this makes me feel better.
We get back to the cabin. While the men gather the wood for the bonfire, the women are in the bathroom with me.
“What are you doing Cheetahtort!? Are you ready for this? He’s HOT! You haven’t done this for so long. You know you don’t have to do this. Are you sure? Do you really want to? He’s a nice guy. You can say no.” This is the barrage of questions and comments I get from the ladies.
We go out to the beautiful bonfire that the men started.
Maddie brought her Ipod and started to play some music. We sat around the bonfire telling stories until, one by one, people started to drop out.
First it was Carly, then Bethany, then Maddie and finally, Neal.
We were alone.
We were sitting in opposite seats across the fire.
“Let’s take a look at Neal’s boat,” says Tiger.
“Sure,” I say as I get up and walk over to him.
He takes my hand and we walk onto the dock and into the boat.
We sit in the back of the boat and talk. I say talk, but I’m really not sure that happened.
We kissed, touched, kissed, smiled, laughed, played, got nervous, and STOPPED!
He might have had to pull up his pants for us to walk back to the bonfire. I’m just saying.
We sit near the bonfire, but not close enough. He grabs my hand and says, “Cheetahtort, come here.”
I get up and sit on his lap.
We sit there listening to Journey. We soon find out that this is one of our favorite bands. Who doesn’t love “Faithfully”?
The stars and moon are shining, the fire blazing, loons are calling and we are kissing.
If this guy were my age, taller, not a drunk, stuck around . . . (I’ll tell you more stories), didn’t live with his parents, this would have been the perfect night. But, I put all these things out of my mind and enjoy.)
After hours of this, we knew we needed to go to bed and walked into the cabin.
Our bed (my bed) was the pull-out couch. Maddie was in the other couch in the same room. We tried to pull out the couch without waking her but were laughing like crazy. Once the bed was out we jumped in.
We got under the covers, took off our clothes, got close, and . . . .
Well . . . I’ll let you decide what happened. J But remember I’m a good girl. Good girl gone bad? Or good girl staying the course?
I got up early and realized I had a little koala bear hugging me, his eucalyptus tree. His legs and arms were surrounding me. I raised my head and saw Maddie looking over and trying to hide her laugh.
“What is this?” I ask laughing back to her and looking at this naked man holding me and not letting me go!
“I think you have a little man attached to you.” she laughs and puts her hands behind her head, lying on the nearby couch.
“I’m so sorry if we woke you. We had some trouble with the bed.”
“I didn’t hear a thing! But I do see Tiger’s ass right now?”
“Oh I thank God you didn’t hear us but yes, isn’t his ass lovely?”
“Why? Was there something to hear? And yeah I can say I don’t mind seeing that in the morning,” she says laughing and pulling the covers over her head.
“Nope,” I say dismissing the entire conversation.
Tiger stirs, grabs tighter, brings me closer and says, “I don’t want to wake up. I had a great dream.”
Maddie and I look at each other and burst into laughter.
About a half hour later and maybe a couple feels later, we get ready to leave.
Bethany agrees to drive Tiger home.
We grab something to drink. I grab a Mt. Dew and guzzle it as I’m so dehydrated.
I’m sitting in the back of the car with Tiger next to me and Maddie next to him.
Because I’ve had too many Red Bulls the night before and now a Mt. Dew my heart starts to go crazy. I get nervous and put my head down as I can’t see anymore. Tiger gets a bit nervous for me.
“What the hell Cheetahtort? Are you OK?”
“Oh goodness, I’m fine.” I say not completely sure I am. This has been happening a little too much lately, where I lose my breath, my heart starts racing and I can’t see straight. But I don’t want to freak anyone out so I say everything is fine.
He’s got a hold of my leg and rubbing it up and down and every once in a while taking a peek at me, wondering if I really am fine.
Overall, the conversation in the car is quiet. We are all tired from the night before.
When we finally make it to Tiger’s house, Tiger squeezes my knee and slowly gets out of the back seat but not before he quickly sneaks in a small kiss. I’m not sure anyone notices.
We watch him get out and walk to the front of the car, look around and then walk back to my window and says, “I could have sworn I left my truck here. Where the hell is my truck?”
“What’d you do with your truck Tiger?” everyone asks in unison.
He shrugs, looks at me and says . . .
“Well, time to go to Church!”
