and woman #35 is..............................

My phone rings at 6:00 tonight. I don't recognize the name or number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Steve!" She sounds familiar. Is it Kelly?

I never say, "who is this?" on the phone. Finding out myself is much more fun. And I never guess. What if it's a girl, and I guess wrong?

"How's it going?" I say.

"Oh, gosh, I just got done showing a house, and it's been so hot today - I am TOTALLY ready for drinks tonight!"

Ahh, it's Kelly, all right. And she's a real estate agent! Yet another girl who is probably out-earning me. Maybe I ought to hook up with one of these chicks and just retire!

"Yeah, I'm having a rough week myself."

"So listen," she says. "I know we were just supposed to have drinks tonight, but I am STARVING. Would it be ok if we got dinner too?"

I don't know what it was, but I suddenly felt really good about this girl. She had an easy confidence about her. She was....cool!

"Absolutely not," I say.

"uhhh...." she says.

"HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHH!"

"You jerk," she laughs.

"Hey, you asked me!" I say.

"So where are you taking me, JERK!" she says, still laughing.

"How about McGillicuddy's? They have good burgers there."

"OK!"

I picked her up about an hour later. I didn't show it, but I got weak in the knees when she answered the door.

Let's see if I can describe her: Long, wavy blonde hair (think Faith Hill), perfect teeth and smile (remember - Christina Applegate?), crystal blue eyes. Her jeans were perfect - not too tight, not too loose, and her ass is to DIE for. Round and firm - a "bubble ass". And she was wearing a black midriff-exposing shirt. I love it when an ample-chested girl wears a cutoff shirt, and the bottom of the shirt just kind of hangs out there, away from her body, reminding you how big her boobs are...

In addition to all this, I got hit with a wave of flowery perfume when she opened the door, so all my senses were pretty much reeling. She was putting on an earring as she let me in. Her head was tilted to the side, and she looked up at me as she put the earring in...what a picture. It wasn't quite Lila in the hotel room, but it was not shabby.

"I'll be ready in a second," she says, smiling. "JERK!" What, is this my pet name now?

So she puts on a pair of open-back sneakers (another turn-on for me; what, is she reading my blog?) and we head out.

My initial impression of Kelly was exactly right. She was very easygoing and fun all night long. She told funny stories, laughed a lot, and generally seemed to have no hangups whatsoever.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that she is so uninhibited, that she might be willing to do the "Wild Mambo" with me tonight. Why the hell not?

After about 3 hours at the bar, I figure, what the hell? I am way overstocked on girls right now. HOT girls. If I get shot down, so what? So I turn to her and decide to go for the "hard close," as the sales guys call it.

"You wanna get outta here," I say. I'm not smiling anymore.

She looked at me for a second. "OK," she says. She's not smiling either.

COULD THIS BE IT? COULD KELLY BE #35??!! It's looking good!

I get on the road, and start heading to my house.

"Can we go to my place, please?"

"Absolutely not," I say, smiling.

So we get there, and I kind of follow her to the door, and she unlocks it and holds it for me. As soon as we get inside, she kicks her sneakers off. It may seem insignificant, but when a girl takes her shoes off in front of me, I always feel like I have a good shot. She's feeling comfortable!

She throws her keys on the counter and says, "You wanta drink?"

"No." I put my hand around her back and pull her to me. Her perfume hits me like a wave. Her breath is hot against my face. She looks surprised for a second. Then she looks my face up and down and licks her lips.

Then she kisses me.

Pretty soon we are into a hard-core makeout session: neck kissing, lip biting, tongues in mouths, etc. So I go for the next step (tit squeezing), and she pushes my hand away.

I really hate extended makeouts. If you are kissing for more than, say, 10 minutes, chances are that's as far as you are getting that night. And with my sex drive, I get "blue balls" really easily.

So, after about 10 minutes, I am ready to excuse myself to go to the can, just to break the monotony, when......

SHE TAKES MY HAND AND PUTS IT IN HER LAP!

Holy shit!!! It's back on!!!!

So I start rubbing her, really gently.

Guys always make the mistake of rubbing too hard down there, especially when the girl has clothes on: They act like they are sanding a two-by-four! I think of it like I'm petting a kitten. Which I am, in a way, right?

Now I can feel her getting REALLY warm. And I am ready to close the deal. So I go for her boob again, under the shirt this time, and SHE PUSHES MY HAND AWAY AGAIN!

Jesus Christ! WTF!!!!

Hey honey, in case you didn't notice, I'm already on third base here, so why not let me steal second!

"What is it," I say.

"I'm married," she says, almost conversationally.

HOLY FUCKING SHITTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't care that she's married. I've slept with married women before. As far as I am concerned, if things are that bad that she is out screwing someone else, it's not much of a marriage anyway. What bothers me is:

A) She doesn't wear a ring, so she might be lying, in which case she's a freak and/or a psycho;
B) She didn't tell me until now; and
C) She waited until the worst possible moment to do so. To me, that is just strange.

"Goodbye, Kelly," I say, and start getting up. Wonder if Lila is home, I am thinking...

"WAIT Steve, WAIT!! Please let me explain!"

I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, she is 27, and she got married at 23. They broke up and reconciled twice. She dumped him last summer and they have been living apart ever since. She never filed for divorce and always thought they'd get back together again.

"But I'm thinking it's time to move on," she says.

"Good luck with that," I say. This chick has baggage, and she hides it well, but it's still baggage, and that usually means no sex - just talking.

"When can I see you again? JERK!" she says, punching my arm. I look at her, and the smile is back. She is happy! She is having a good time...maybe she just needs to tie up some loose ends. And after seeing that smile, I still, despite the weirdness, have a very good feeling about this 27-year-old real estate agent.

"When?" I say. "Hmmmm." I pull out my BlackBerry. "2006 is wide open!"

"Shut up!" She pulls out her own BlackBerry. "How about drinks Friday night?"

"No," I say. "How about massages, hot tub and dinner on Friday?"

"OOOOOOOOOO! Ok, cool!"

Well, it's going to cost me money - HUGE money - but Friday night might be the night. And I hope so, too, because all this whacking is giving me carpal tunnel syndrome.

I am starting to feel like I am pushing the envelope too much: Too many girls, too many dates, too many chances to get caught. I might have to make some hard decisions soon....