Chapter 172: Coffee or Why Jimmy's Got Game
They got coffee after. Well, they went to a coffee shop, but
all three of them got cold drinks. Tim's thinking that even after drinking the
whole bottle of water he brought with him, refilling it, drinking that, and
spending a good ten minutes just letting cold water run over him, that he's
still a few quarts low on his hydration.
"So, Abby got a Groupon for that?" Tony asked as
he sat down, heavily, looking like he was fairly sure he was never, ever going
to move again.
"Yeah, back before she got pregnant. The original idea
was to do it with him. But pregnant means she shouldn't get her temperature
over 102, and it's 105 in there."
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"We'd go do yoga day once a month or so; Breena usually
comes, too." Jimmy got out his phone and showed them a shot of him and
Abby posing at the last place, then flicked to the shot of the girls together,
and one of the three of them. "This was last time. Haven't done Bikram in
years, but that was fun. After McSciuto's on the outside, we'll have to do that
again."
"I'm volunteering for babysitting duty right here and
now," Tony says, face serious.
"You really hated that, didn't you?" Jimmy says,
shaking his head. He'd had a really good time, and managed to go two full hours
without thinking about anything Trisomy or Jon related.
"Jimmy, parts of me I didn't know existed hurt on a
cellular level right now. Each and every single nerve in both thighs are
screaming at me."
"You didn't have to go quite that gung ho on it. Part
of the idea is patience and easing into the poses," Jimmy answers.
Tony took a sip of his shake, shaking his head, obviously
Jimmy's never spent any time with anyone who was ever serious about competitive
athletics. Ease into it. Tony sighs and changes the topic a little. "So…
Abby and Breena can do that?"
"Some of it," Tim replies. She's not as into it as
Jimmy is, and he's got no idea how devoted to yoga Breena is.
"Breena's really bendy," Jimmy says with a fairly
dirty smile on his face.
Tim grins. "So's Abby."
"Huh." Tony appears to be grasping some of the
reason why you might want your spouse to be into yoga, even if you're under the
impression that it's some sort of torture.
"Ziva's pretty flexible, too, right?" Jimmy asks.
"Oh, yeah. She likes… pilates. So, why did you start
doing it?" Tony asks Tim. They both know Jimmy started in college after he
was diagnosed with diabetes.
"Found out on my honeymoon that there are some benefits
to being flexible."
Jimmy sits there, nodding, looking really smug.
"Like what kind of benefits?" At the beginning of
the class Jamie had gone over the "benefits" of yoga, and Tony's
pretty damn sure neither McGee or Palmer would be looking that smug if they
were thinking about blood pressure, stress relief, or better posture.
"Have sex when you get home, see how it feels,"
Tim says with a smile.
"McGee, I hurt all over. The last thing I want to do
when I get home is move."
"Then don't. Lay back and let her do you. It'll be
worth it."
Tony stares at him, eyes slightly narrowed, while Jimmy nods
and grins, saying, "The looser you start off, the more you can ramp the
tension up, the harder you'll come."
Tim turns to Jimmy quickly. "Wait, Abby said she read
that. Did you tell her that?"
"Yeah. She might have read it, too. I gave her some of
my books five-six years ago. She finally test that out on you?"
"Uh huh."
"Good?" Jimmy asks.
"I'm doing yoga, and kept doing it even when she was
sleeping every possible minute instead of doing it with me. Yeah, it's
good."
"How did you even learn stuff like this?" Tony
asks.
Jimmy shrugs. "Cosmo. Back when I was dating
Melissa," he sees that Tim and Tony don't know who that is, so he
clarifies, "in college, I saw one of hers, read something on Tantric sex,
decided that was worth looking into further, and well, fifteen years later, I'm
pretty good at yoga."
"I thought you started yoga after you got sick,"
Tony says.
"I did. I was dating her after I got sick. Look, Breena
was with us when I said that, and it is true that I got interested in it and
started doing it about eight months after I was diagnosed with diabetes. Just,
diabetes wasn't precisely the motivating factor for why I started or why I kept
doing it."
"You like tantric sex?" Tim asks. He's familiar
with the idea, but hasn't felt any need to try it out, too much religion-y
stuff to be really attractive to him.
"Meh." Jimmy wiggles his hand to indicate it was
so-so. "Tried it, but never got into it much. Don't get me wrong, the
positions are interesting, and the increased strength and flexibility are very
good things, plus it was the first thing I ran into that really got into the
idea of sex as an art, which I really did like, but I don't believe in Chakras,
and don't feel any need to try and meditate during sex, I mean, I like to be
paying attention to the sex when I'm having sex, so that part of it wasn't
doing anything for me."
"Sex as an art?" Tony asks.
"Sure," Jimmy's nodding away at this. "I
can't paint, write, or sculpt to save my life, but I'm a damn good lay. And I
got that way because I studied and practiced. You weren't just born great at
basketball, right?"
"I was born good at basketball."
"And then you really worked at it to get a whole lot
better?"
"Yep."
"Well, on raw talent alone, I'm good at sex. And, in
some ways almost dying was a very good thing for me, because it helped me
figure out what was important to me and what and who I wanted to be. But I was
also twenty, so basically, what I really wanted to do was have a ton of sex.
And look, I was built like Tim, kind of tall and scrawny—"
"Hey!"
"Tim, you look a lot better than you did this time last
year, and a ton better than this time two years ago, but you've got a ways to
go."
"No I don't. I'm healthy. I look fine. I get enough
exercise to keep me quick and limber and eat well enough to keep me trim. I do
not need to be so cut that you can use me as muscular anatomy display."
Jimmy just sort of shrugs. "Anyway, I knew I was always
going to be kind of goofy and a little awkward, and that I was never going to
be broad shouldered or classically handsome, so I'd never be really hot at
getting a woman in the first place, but I also figured that if I got great at
sex, and looked really good naked, the chances of a girl deciding to sleep with
me a second time would raise dramatically. And having sex a whole lot with one
girl would work perfectly for my goal of getting laid a lot. So I read up and
practiced. And suddenly, I was getting laid a whole lot more. Especially in
college and my early twenties when the rest of the guys my age were still
clueless. I've been shot down left, right, and any other direction you can
imagine, but since I decided sex was worth studying and learning how to get
good at, no girl I've been with has refused a second date."
"None of them?" Tim's kicking himself for not
having figured that out on his own. Once Jimmy said it, it was blindingly
obvious, but that was an idea that never crossed his mind. Yeah, he did eventually
get good, but he was a hell of a lot closer to thirty than twenty, and really
it wasn't until he started dating Abby again that he had the opportunity to
really learn another person well enough to jump from good to great.
"None. Not saying I've never been dumped, but date one
has always lead to dates two, three, four and on."
"So, you really did dump Lee?" Tony asks. Sure, he
heard about it. And yes, Lee was using Palmer, but even with all of that, he
never really believed that Jimmy ended it.
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| 'It was great sex.' |
Tony takes another drink of his shake and just stares at
Jimmy for a long minute, like he's really not sure he wants to ask this or not,
but finally he does. "Okay, so how do you get good at sex if you don't
have any pickup skills? Isn't step one find a woman to do it with you?"
"Nah. Don't get me wrong, you can read until your eyes
fall out and you're never going to figure it out without a girl around, but
still, step one isn't grab the first available girl. Step one was learn anatomy
and some basic technique. Step two was read things girls write for
themselves—"
"I told you that!" Tim says to Tony. "He saw
me reading Ms and couldn't figure out why I'd do that."
"I told you that if you wanted to get to know more
about women, you needed to get to know some women," Tony says.
"I'm close to my mom, sister, grandmother, my best
friend was a girl, and one of my partners was a girl. I wanted to know about
the stuff they wouldn't tell me."
Jimmy nods in agreement with that. "Women will not tell
you that you can't find a clit, even with a flashlight and GPS. They won't tell
you your technique sucks. They really won't tell you how they like to be kissed
or touched. They expect you to magically know that stuff. What they will do is
complain to each other about the fact that you suck at sex. And if you read
them complaining, you start to pick up some tips real fast. And if you want
expert level tips, go find erotica written for girls, by girls, preferably
lesbians, and pay attention. Then, once you've got that set, you go find a real
girl, and you start playing, and you pay even more attention to how she
responds to what you're doing. I have had women compliment me because I can
actually figure out when what I'm doing isn't working, like it's some sort of
magic trick, and it's really not difficult, you've just got to get your brain
doing the thinking. But especially in college, that made me the wizard of
sex."
Tim laughs at that. Back in college and grad school his
brain generally wasn't involved in sex at all. It was certainly very interested
in it, but tended to check out once the actual sex happened.
"So, you're what, sitting in your girl's room, and you
just pick up her Cosmo and read it?" Tony asks.
"Yeah, pretty much. I'd finished my homework, she was
still working on hers, I hadn't brought anything else to read, and it's Cosmo,
so it's got a three-quarters naked women on the cover next to a headline that
reads something like 117 Tips to Make Him Come So Hard His Ears Melt—"
"Those things are always so overrated," Tim adds.
"They really are. I don't think any of the girls who
write those things have ever had sex with an actual man."
Tony's just looking at them like they're both some sort of
strange insect and he's not sure if he wants to study them or run away
shrieking.
But Jimmy just continues on, "So, I was all in favor of
coming so hard my ears melted, so I got reading. And yeah, dumb tips, a girl
tries to rub my dick between her wrists like she's starting a fire, especially
without lube, and I'm getting the hell out of there."
"What?!" Tony says, stunned, holding his wrists in
front of him, about two inches apart, staring in stupefaction.
"Really dumb tips," Tim says as he nods. "You
know, the 117 Ways to Make Her Come So Hard Her Ears Melt things they have in
Maxim or Men's Health might be just as bad." Tim's seen Tony's copies of
those magazines, but never been bored enough to read one.
"Nope." Tony's pretty certain about that.
"Nope? You know for sure?" Jimmy asks. Last time
he read a Maxim he was in college, and like the Cosmo he thought there were
lots of sexy pictures and not much worth reading inside.
"Ziva reads Maxim as well, and she's let me know which
ones are good and which aren't."
"Ah. Well, anyway, I'm reading her Cosmo, enjoying the
pictures, seriously that thing's like soft porn, laughing really hard at the
suggestions, and a few pages later I found the stuff on Tantric sex, and that
actually looked good, but it was only three pages long, so off to the library I
went, and a few inter-library loans and two weeks later, I had some stuff worth
reading, and a girlfriend who was actually pretty interested in seeing what we
could do with it."
"Twenty-year-old-you walks up to the counter at the
library and asks them to put sex books on hold for you?" Tim asks.
Twenty-year-old Tim McGee would have spontaneously combusted if he tried to ask
for help finding sex books.
"Twenty-year-old-me was bound and determined to get
great at sex. Plus the girl at the counter was a freshman and really cute, so I
practiced my flirting technique. She still thought I was a dork, and probably a
pervert, but I got the books I was looking for. And then I had a whole lot of
fun with them. I wasn't flexible or strong enough for a lot of the stuff in
there, so next semester I signed up for the yoga gym class and have been doing
it regularly since." Jimmy drinks some of his iced tea and stretches.
"I should probably be getting home soon."
Tim checks his watch, it's a little after one. "Yeah.
Bootcamp tomorrow?"
"See you then." Jimmy stood and headed off.
Tony took another sip of his shake. "I am so glad I'm
not doing that tomorrow. I'm going home, filling the bathtub with cold water
and ice, and not moving for a week."
"If you're hurting that bad, your body may be telling
you more exercise is in order."
"What it's telling me is that I'm forty-eight and
trying to become a pretzel is a bad plan. I don't feel like this after jogging
or sparring."
"It was for a good cause. He didn't check his phone
once the whole time we were out."
"I know. And I could see he was really smiling when we
were talking. After I get back from my honeymoon, we'll bring Ziva and Breena
and do it again."
"Good."
"Why couldn't you two be basketball fans? You know,
normal guys do things like go to a game."
"This is better for you."
"Yeah." Tony got up very slowly and began limping
toward the door.
"Did you really hurt yourself?" Tim asked, yeah,
he's sore; he knows he did something that's not part of his usual routine, but
he's not aching.
"I hope not."
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