The Pasta Dinner Intervention Ambush...

I love pasta.
Adore Pasta.
LOVE pasta.
I can be (and have been) bribed for it.
Stormcloud used it to great effect over the years as a (not so) subtle way to get me over so I can fuck her senseless later.
So it was with a great delight that I accepted IFW's invitation for a pasta dinner with her family and a couple of close friends.

Cutting to a few days later, I enter her happily cluttered home, but the first thing that I notice is that the kids are gone, which struck me as odd.   Missing my child, I grow a bit of a fondness of the chaos the kids bring to ones home.
Some other friends (mostly hers) arrive and we sit down with a glass of wine while a lovely spaghetti dinner is served.
She can make a simple dinner seem elegant and knows my particular weakness for this specific dish.
We talk about gay, family, kids, and other issues with a great amount of ribaldry that only friends like these can have with one another.
When IFW's sat us down in the living room and took away my glasses, the laughter slowly died down.
Apparently, being the slow one of the group, I was the last to notice because I was busy rubbing the ears of one of their Boxers who suddenly wanted to be a lapdog.

Looking up made me take notice that there weren't many smiling faces anymore and IFW started with a sentence that floored me;

"You need to date again."

I sat there dumbfounded.

"You work too much, don't go out on dates, have too many responsibilities, and I think that's what is keeping you from finding someone, plus you probably need to get laid more too."

Let's break this down:
Okay, I do work 50-80 hours a week, but mostly to help my kid to through college (with a *60%* scholarship, thank you!).  I haven't told them why KM I broke up, nor did I mention Lauren.
But getting laid?  Oh Come on!

While listening to this little tirade that IFW is doing, I look at everyone's faces with looks of concern and I just have to laugh inside while they all took their turns in bemoaning my lack of a mate or, at least, a regular companion to share my bed with.

They have no clue.

While IF, IFW and Co., are the dearest of friends, I have never confided them about my other activities.
Again, I realized that I was slow on the uptake and she had stopped talking and was waiting on a response.

"Why, you're right! I need to get out more, in fact, I AM seeing someone new."
It was her turn to look astonished.
"You are? Already?"
"Well, it is nothing official, we're still feeling each other out, but its promising, so we will see."
"SEX?"
She can be called quite a few things, but "SHY" isn't one of them and she's one of the few people in the world that can take me off guard.

"To be honest, we haven't, but it's not like I've been leading a monastic life."


"Good, I'd like to meet her."

"I love you, but it's really none of your business.  When I decide to, we'll make our appearance to see if she can pass your inspection and not pass out from embarrassment.

After another couple of hours, we talk about the kids, (IF NEVER talks about the kids, but IFW will even talk about bowel movements) and things go to normal.
On cue, the kids are brought back by a next door neighbor and a merriment of insanity ensues. The baby cries, the kiddo runs around and the dogs do their best to cajole a morsel from one of the guests while playing with their returning playmate.

"If there is anything else, I'll be on my way to one of my many 'responsibilities.'"

With that, everyone comes up to me to give me a hug and a peck on the cheek.
IF walked me out to my car to let me out of the gate.
"You two are quite a couple."
"We have fun."
IF: man of few words.
As many times that is repeated throughout my life, I head back onto empty streets and as I approach an intersection, I pull over to a parking lot and reach for the phone and send a text message.

"are you sleep?"

"Hey baby!  Want some ass?"
LOL!
"Maybe."
"Well, my ass wants you. Come over."

Instead of turning right onto the freeway, I turn left.

Yeah, I need to get laid more.