Having traveled throughout the United States, I managed to have some good experiences in a lot of different cities; sometimes with the same number.   While it’s not prudent to fuck a co-worker, a lot of times it’s inevitable.  Especially when they are great in the sack.

#38 was based in Los Angeles, but he had to come to Chicago a lot for work.  That’s where I first met him.  While we hasn’t my type per se, we had some great chemistry and therefore, when I finally got aquainted with dick, was very happy.    And the fact that he had to come to Chicago every few months made me happier.  And more satisfied.

He had a house in Los Angeles so whenever I’d come home for a visit, I’d also make a stop chez-#38.  Or two stops.  Or more, depending on how long I was staying in town.   His house was small but cute and we fucked in every room.  Unfortunately, condoms don’t work well in water, so the Jacuzzi was just a way to take a break from the action.   But that’s what the rest of the house is for.

It was a total fluke that we both found ourselves in Clearwater, Florida the same week.   I wasn’t that into seeing him though, as I was still pretty messed up about my first love, #40.  But I had needs and we did have a good time together, so when we went swimming and he put his hand in my bikini, I got out of the pool and followed him to his room.

I kind of lost interest after that trip.  I was going to move to New York and wanted to start a new life, sans attachments.   #38 was disappointed.  He liked me more than I liked him.   Besides, I thought the location trifecta was enough.  Now if he had invited me to the Cayman Islands, it would have been another thing altogether.

Moral of the story, good sex can easily cross state lines.