Charles

Call me rude but, I didn't change his name. No anonymity here. I forgot his last name. There are way too many Charles' in the world for anyone to figure it out anyway. The fact that he looked like Forrest Gump should have been a big clue that this one was ... There are no words to describe. I met Charles on the internet. It was at least 12 years ago. We could never pick the right day or time to meet. We finally decided on a Friday night to meet at a local Hardees. I was so nervous. I described myself. I let him know that I was a plus sized queen. So there were no surprises there. He told me over the phone that he looked like Forrest Gump. So, thinking of Tom Hanks, I thought dark blue eyes. That's fine. As I sat anxiously in my car, I contemplated going into Hardees and getting a heart attack on a bun. As I glared hungrily into the establishment, there was a knock at my driver side window. It scared the hell out of me. When I turned, there was a lovely bouquet of red roses. Holding the roses, there was a tall guy who looked exactly like Forrest Gump. I rolled down the window and smiled so big. "Oh my god. was all I could mutter. I don't know if it was the roses or the fact that he REALLY looked like Forrest Gump that did this. After that night, we went out almost every night after that. He and I were like "peas and carrots". (Okay that was really bad, but it was funny. If you haven't seen "Forrest Gump" please rent it and come and re-read the story.) Charles and I also went to the same college but we never knew it. Charles was still in school. I was on a break. Okay, I was on a loooong break. Anyways, Charles went to school and he had a job. Every night, he wanted to be with me. This went on for five months. I started to get concerned because he didn't have me time. All he wanted to do was go to the movies and talk on the phone. I knew it was getting bad one night when we went to see Billy Madison and he kept falling asleep. We had to walk out of the movie because he was so tired. When we got out to the parking lot, we cuddled a bit and kissed. Up until that point, it was the quick peck on the lips. We never swapped spit. Did I mention that he wanted to become a priest? Or at least he was thinking about it? I didn't want to disrespect him by slipping him the tongue. I was waiting for him to make the first move. That came the next night. He invited me over to his place which he shared with the strangest old man. I don't know. Didn't ask how that happened. He invited me in to watch some TV while he studied. So I sat on the couch. He offered me some orange juice. I said, "Okay." Then he sat next to me and I knew instantly that something was up. I could feel him staring at me. Then I finally looked over. He moved in. I was thinking, "Please let him be a good kisser." The kiss was a bit open mouth, a little tongue. It was okay. He pulled back and looked at me as if to say, "I'm the shit." He came back in. So I relaxed a bit and he opened his mouth not a little but a LOT more and I swear he was trying to make me swallow his tongue. My body tensed up because I needed air. I guess he thought that he was doing something because he reached around and started caressing an extra "curve". I pulled back and tried to catch my breath. He just looked at me as if to say, "I got her breathless." Well, hello, if you hadn't tried to give me an extra serving of tongue, I would be fine. He reached for my glass of orange juice and took a swallow then gave me some. I figured that maybe he was just nervous. Maybe the third time is the charm. Well, I decided to make the first move. So I moved in and I started kissing him the way I wanted to be kissed. Well, you think that he'd copy or realize that I was showing him what I wanted. Nope! All of a sudden, he put his whole tongue in my mouth again and this time, I felt cold drool running down my chin. I pulled back and hugged him to catch my breath and wipe my chin with the sleeve of my sweater that I'm wearing as I type. I was mortified. So I made an excuse to leave. After that night, things were a bit weird for me. He kept calling me excessively. I explained to him that maybe we should give it a rest. A few years later, I sent him some roses with a cute little teddy bear for Valentine's Day just to show him that I was thinking about him. I called him to see if he received them. He said that he had and that he cut the roses out of the bears hand because it was "masculine" enough. Charles was an interesting experience. I can't say that he was my first love. But he did make 1994-1995 quite interesting.