I dunno. How does having a dozen roses delivered to a girl on christmas day when she's halfway across the continent visiting family, before anyone but us knew about us. I was 17 and she was 16 and it was the first relationship for either of us.
Your most romantic experience...
- Thread starter An Officer
- Start date
I lol'ed.
Yeah, he is, thanks! And after reading all the nice comments in this thread (thanks everyone!) I'm beginning to think I should appreciate him a bit more.
(Why can't I just have sex dreams about people instead of this romantic crap ?)
Careful what you wish for. All my sex dreams are about people I find completely unattractive during my waking hours! Er ... not that I have many such dreams ...
And then there's nasty humor.
Thank you! I seek only to amuse. And if I can do with an anecdote from my personal life, so be it.
Well most romantic in terms for women was when I sent a dozen roses to a chick....one rose every hour for 12 hours. I paid alot for it, but it was cool. First they started at her work, then they continued when she got home. It was roses all day!
Most romantic in guy terms was this time I went out with a hot black chick. A few months before I went out with this African beauty I learned the electronic door code to the apartment building across the street from my work, 1-2-3-4-# A default code for sure, so try it on random buildings in NYC....
Anyway me and this chick went out in New York for some drinking and smootching. Then at the end of the night we were walking back to the train station and I suggested we go somewhere to smoke a joint. We wondered where to go, then I remembered the apartment building across from work. We went there, I used the code and presto!, we got in and went to the basement to smoke.
So we smoked and started kissing....then I grabbed her ass, and we were feeling each other up. Then I put my hand down her pants from behind, so my hand was on her nicely shaped ass. I started to let my fingers do the walking and I was soon making soup.
This was getting hot and heavy but I didn't think anything else would happen. But then all of a sudden she grabbed my hand, removed it from her ass, then unbuttoned her jeans and took down her jeans and panties, and turned around (with her back facing me)! I practically ripped my pants off and my guy was ready! So ready that you could've hung wet towels from it! She bent over and it was on! And to quote a poster above, she didn't even make me wear a rubber. Talk about romantic!
Oh man! That was a night! I've had chocolate fever ever since...
Most romantic in guy terms was this time I went out with a hot black chick. A few months before I went out with this African beauty I learned the electronic door code to the apartment building across the street from my work, 1-2-3-4-# A default code for sure, so try it on random buildings in NYC....
Anyway me and this chick went out in New York for some drinking and smootching. Then at the end of the night we were walking back to the train station and I suggested we go somewhere to smoke a joint. We wondered where to go, then I remembered the apartment building across from work. We went there, I used the code and presto!, we got in and went to the basement to smoke.
So we smoked and started kissing....then I grabbed her ass, and we were feeling each other up. Then I put my hand down her pants from behind, so my hand was on her nicely shaped ass. I started to let my fingers do the walking and I was soon making soup.
This was getting hot and heavy but I didn't think anything else would happen. But then all of a sudden she grabbed my hand, removed it from her ass, then unbuttoned her jeans and took down her jeans and panties, and turned around (with her back facing me)! I practically ripped my pants off and my guy was ready! So ready that you could've hung wet towels from it! She bent over and it was on! And to quote a poster above, she didn't even make me wear a rubber. Talk about romantic!
Oh man! That was a night! I've had chocolate fever ever since...
There are dozens of romantic experiences I could tell (and some I can't), but there's one in particular that comes to mind immediately. It's from when my last longterm girlfriend told me she loved me for the first time.
I had told her a week before, but I'd said that I didn't want her to say it back to me because I didn't want it to seem like she was just saying it because I had. Anyway, a week later, we've taken a hike up Mont Royal, and it's just utterly beautiful. It was fall, and the leaves were at their best shades of orange, yellow, and crimson. At one point, we were just looking out over the vista and I nudged a small rock lightly with my foot. It lazily tumbled down one precipice, rolled a couple of times, hesitated, then tumbled down another. We watched, amazed, as it continued to roll further and further, picking up speed along. Eventually, it left our sight range, but you could still hear it. This went on for several minutes, until the crashing sounds got fainter and the intervals between them got wider, then finally, silence.
I couldn't get over it. I just thought it was the coolest thing ever, and I kept going on and on about it, extremely excited, like a little schoolboy. Eventually, the moment kind of passed, and we walked back down to the base of the hill. It was there, still amongst the trees, that I once again exclaimed, "I can't believe that rock just kept going like that!", and she turned to me, half amused, and said, "I love you."
There's no way to do that story justice, but that's part of it's value. In fact, I can remember teasing her at the time for inadvertently making it one of those 'had to be there' stories that would be hard to tell in the future!
The other moment I'm thinking about is kind of a companion to the above, and is something I've told and shown before. The same girlfriend of mine was out of town one weekend, and she had asked me to go over to her apartment to do something or other. When I got there, I noticed she hadn't made her bed, so I thought I'd do that so she'd have something nice to come home to. However, right as I was about to, I noticed a laundry basket full of her socks, which gave me a different idea. She was so delighted when she saw it that she took a picture.
(Yeah, it's the same one I just posted in that rom-com thread.)
So those are the first two that come to mind for me. There are tons more, both subtle and grand (I have actually driven over 200km to make a surprise apology before), but those are two of my favourites. Also, as you can probably tell, I like my romance best served with a little whimsy.
I had told her a week before, but I'd said that I didn't want her to say it back to me because I didn't want it to seem like she was just saying it because I had. Anyway, a week later, we've taken a hike up Mont Royal, and it's just utterly beautiful. It was fall, and the leaves were at their best shades of orange, yellow, and crimson. At one point, we were just looking out over the vista and I nudged a small rock lightly with my foot. It lazily tumbled down one precipice, rolled a couple of times, hesitated, then tumbled down another. We watched, amazed, as it continued to roll further and further, picking up speed along. Eventually, it left our sight range, but you could still hear it. This went on for several minutes, until the crashing sounds got fainter and the intervals between them got wider, then finally, silence.
I couldn't get over it. I just thought it was the coolest thing ever, and I kept going on and on about it, extremely excited, like a little schoolboy. Eventually, the moment kind of passed, and we walked back down to the base of the hill. It was there, still amongst the trees, that I once again exclaimed, "I can't believe that rock just kept going like that!", and she turned to me, half amused, and said, "I love you."
There's no way to do that story justice, but that's part of it's value. In fact, I can remember teasing her at the time for inadvertently making it one of those 'had to be there' stories that would be hard to tell in the future!
The other moment I'm thinking about is kind of a companion to the above, and is something I've told and shown before. The same girlfriend of mine was out of town one weekend, and she had asked me to go over to her apartment to do something or other. When I got there, I noticed she hadn't made her bed, so I thought I'd do that so she'd have something nice to come home to. However, right as I was about to, I noticed a laundry basket full of her socks, which gave me a different idea. She was so delighted when she saw it that she took a picture.
(Yeah, it's the same one I just posted in that rom-com thread.)
So those are the first two that come to mind for me. There are tons more, both subtle and grand (I have actually driven over 200km to make a surprise apology before), but those are two of my favourites. Also, as you can probably tell, I like my romance best served with a little whimsy.
Rÿcher
Fleet Captain
Oh, dear.
There should really be two separate entries for "romantic" in the male/female dictionary.
Some folks seem to be confusing the word with "tawdry".
There should really be two separate entries for "romantic" in the male/female dictionary.
Some folks seem to be confusing the word with "tawdry".
Eh, they consider it romantic. It's good to get different perspectives. Also incredibly funny!
Philo and Hugo, both very sweet stories.
They consider it "hot" not romantic!
Aaawwww.... That's very romantic.
Me I don't have that much yet. Best yet is the second day I was in the US to visit my now ex.
We where going on our first real date, and went to Stone Mountain Park and had a some fun walking around. Sure kinda cheesy and very much firing on all cylinders on the whole south thing but we had a great time, walking around in the shops and spending almost an hour smelling all the scent candles in the candle shop.
After a while it started raining and we had about six hours to go until the laser show was to start so we got in her moms car we had borrowed over the day (an automatic Chevy Cavalier IIRC) and drove around the park a few times. We decided pretty quickly to stop somewhere without a lot of people, and while doing that we drove around the park a few times more to find the best spot.
That drive alone was great by the way, mist in places and the rain and thunder making the entire park more green then anything I've seen in my life. We drove with the windows down a bit since the AC in the car wasn't the best and I loved the feel of the humid air and the scent of the rain.
We stopped, got out and pushed the front seats forward, and got in the back. There we just held each other in our arms, kissed for the longest of time, I took of her bra and caressed her breasts under her shirt and we just a had a wonderful time. We paused every now and then to talk about stuff like why we loved each other (and me to keep a nervous lookout for her dads Ford Bronco), and we dozed of for a bit. I awoke when she was still asleep and just looked at her for a long time, then I woke her up with a kiss since it was time we left.
When we got to the place of the show it had stopped raining and we got some great seats under a tree on a stone wall. We sat and watched the show, her in front of me and I with my arms around her. Talking every now and then about the stuff in the show, but in that nice quiet way with my mouth near her ear (also every now and then giving her a teasin kiss on the ear since she had very sensitive ears). When it was over we hung back for a bit to let most of the people leave, and then walked back holding hands trough the lane trough the trees to the parking lot, the sparse lights along it lighting patches of dark green leaves in a very cosy manner. We got in the car and drove back towards Atlanta.
First we drove a wrong way but got right eventually and went into a diner at midnight since neither of us had eaten since the very late breakfast at one. Then I drove her back to her house and she tagged along when her mom and her brother gave me ride back to my motel. Trough the entire ride I had my eyes on my girl and when we got out at the motel, she walked me back and gave me a long and deep kiss goodnight.
Even though I know now that even then, she wasn't any longer in love with me and had started seeing another guy, even with all the angst and pain she has caused me, that day is still and will probably remain for a long time the happiest day of my life. Everything was perfect and I finally felt whole for first time in life. I hope to achieve that feeling again. And if nothing else I hope to go back to the US and Atlanta just since I loved it. Also I still can't smell scented candles without thinking of that day.
Oh and for all the guys here listing random sexual encounters as romantic. Grow a fucking pair and dare to care!
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I have had close to zero romance in my life. And what counts as my most romantic experience is something I won't share. But here's a story from when I was 20.
I spent 4 weeks in Florence, Italy, following summer courses of Italian in the morning and visiting the beautiful sites in the afternoon.
At the school, they warned us about the papagalli (literally, parrots), the street seducers. Although the only papagalli that hit on me if I stopped for a minute alone on the Ponte Vecchio were not real Italians.
The Italians hid away from tourists. They could be found on the less busy left bank of the Arno, where my school was, on the Piazza di Santo Spirito. A bunch of locals hooked up with a bunch of us French student girls there. We hung out together a lot.
Among others, there were Giuseppe the carpenter (lol! It means Joseph. Aptly named), who looked like a Northern Italian or a Frenchman, and his brother, who looked like a Southern Italian - very much like Danny de Vito, only perhaps smaller.
At some point, he pulled me aside and asked, "Do you like one of these guys?". "Tuo fratello," I said, "Your brother". "That's what I thought", he replied. And he took us (and a friend of his riding shotgun) for a mad drive across town in his tiny car, thrust against each other at each curve, to the Piazzale Michelangiolo belvedere. There, they left us alone in the back of the car and let nature follow its course. They startled us, coming back to the car, soon after we'd begun kissing.
Giuseppe and I saw each other every night of my last week in Florence. I was getting sleep-deprived and I broke down a bit on the third night. I cried. I tried to explain. (My command of the Italian tongue was improving at a newly found speed.) I probably laughed a little. I dried my tears and he said, "Mi sono innamorando di te. È facile innamorarse di te." "I'm falling in love with you. It is easy to fall in love with you." Those words were etched in my memory.
I spent 4 weeks in Florence, Italy, following summer courses of Italian in the morning and visiting the beautiful sites in the afternoon.
At the school, they warned us about the papagalli (literally, parrots), the street seducers. Although the only papagalli that hit on me if I stopped for a minute alone on the Ponte Vecchio were not real Italians.
The Italians hid away from tourists. They could be found on the less busy left bank of the Arno, where my school was, on the Piazza di Santo Spirito. A bunch of locals hooked up with a bunch of us French student girls there. We hung out together a lot.
Among others, there were Giuseppe the carpenter (lol! It means Joseph. Aptly named), who looked like a Northern Italian or a Frenchman, and his brother, who looked like a Southern Italian - very much like Danny de Vito, only perhaps smaller.
At some point, he pulled me aside and asked, "Do you like one of these guys?". "Tuo fratello," I said, "Your brother". "That's what I thought", he replied. And he took us (and a friend of his riding shotgun) for a mad drive across town in his tiny car, thrust against each other at each curve, to the Piazzale Michelangiolo belvedere. There, they left us alone in the back of the car and let nature follow its course. They startled us, coming back to the car, soon after we'd begun kissing.
Giuseppe and I saw each other every night of my last week in Florence. I was getting sleep-deprived and I broke down a bit on the third night. I cried. I tried to explain. (My command of the Italian tongue was improving at a newly found speed.) I probably laughed a little. I dried my tears and he said, "Mi sono innamorando di te. È facile innamorarse di te." "I'm falling in love with you. It is easy to fall in love with you." Those words were etched in my memory.
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Agreed.
I was going to post one or two of my most romantic experiences (one of which involves Rome, a breathtaking Italian waiter, a dozen roses, a dare, and some incredibly hot kissing)....but why bother to post them in a thread which 'dignifies' them with such tawdry crap as a big boobed slut who CLEARLY does not have the dimmest clue why she is getting married (if she did, her wedding dress wouldn't have been custom ordered out of a fetish catalog for hookers).
And incredibly, the guys around here constantly wonder why they can't get a date......
Some of their treatment of this topic says it all, from where I sit.
Thanks Emher. Said it before and I'll say it again - it's REALLY too bad I'm so much older than you.
Oh, my. Now I have to hear about Rome and the breathtaking Italian. *Fans self*
Ignore the guys, I've given them their own thread now... and write it for the girls, because I've so enjoyed some of these entries.
Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top PK?
Ignore the guys, I've given them their own thread now... and write it for the girls, because I've so enjoyed some of these entries.
Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top PK?
I think the problem with that dress is that in the picture, the bride is so drunk (she has a glass of vodka in her right hand) that she doesn't realize she's coming undone. She certainly has too big breasts for this kind of dress but from the fabric I see under them (you see the inside of the front), I deduce it's supposed to hold straighter and higher. Bad taste to begin with, but not quite so low.why bother to post them in a thread which 'dignifies' them with such tawdry crap as a big boobed slut who CLEARLY does not have the dimmest clue why she is getting married (if she did, her wedding dress wouldn't have been custom ordered out of a fetish catalog for hookers).
Florence not good eough for you?
Oh, my. Now I have to hear about Rome and the breathtaking Italian. *Fans self*
Ignore the guys, I've given them their own thread now... and write it for the girls, because I've so enjoyed some of these entries.
Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top PK?
Hey! That's not fair! Some of us guys aren't evil lecherous humps. If anything, I'd call myself a hopeless romantic.
The biggest romance of my life, is my current relationship, which I don't want to discuss here...
I will mention here, just as a cute little story which happened to me once with a Hungarian student from Budapest. He had come to London to view the work of Julian Freud which was on exhibition at the time in The Tate Britain.
I met him at Notting Hill Carnival in the summer of 2002. He wore a white long-sleeved top which did little to hide his impeccable physique and six-pack (I later found out he was a black-belt in karate). It was very crowded and we kept bumping into each other, until we finally began chatting, and consequently spent the entire rest of the afternoon together.
He had a classic male physique, lovely broad shoulders, lean hips, dark brown glossy hair, and intense sapphire eyes that made you feel as though you were staring into the depths of an ocean. His name was Marcelle, and he had a gentle voice and a gorgeous accent. He took me on a date to see Lucien Freud. I spent more time looking at him than the paintings.
We went on several more outings, and he was always the gentleman, never pushed, and always waited for me to instigate things... he would just look into my eyes, not saying much, blaming it on his lack of English, but he spoke a thousand words. My friends thought it insane that I wasn't sleeping with him. Each time he wanted to invite me back to his room to show me his "artwork" (among other things I'm sure), I declined, and he took t in stride. I just didn't want to spoil things, which were just fine the way they were. Although we were both in our 20's, it was so lovely to have an innocent old-fashioned courtship, which was extremely diverting for several weeks.
He soon went back to Budapest, and we lost contact... he used to cross my mind quite often. What a lovely, gentle, gorgeous creature.
I will mention here, just as a cute little story which happened to me once with a Hungarian student from Budapest. He had come to London to view the work of Julian Freud which was on exhibition at the time in The Tate Britain.
I met him at Notting Hill Carnival in the summer of 2002. He wore a white long-sleeved top which did little to hide his impeccable physique and six-pack (I later found out he was a black-belt in karate). It was very crowded and we kept bumping into each other, until we finally began chatting, and consequently spent the entire rest of the afternoon together.
He had a classic male physique, lovely broad shoulders, lean hips, dark brown glossy hair, and intense sapphire eyes that made you feel as though you were staring into the depths of an ocean. His name was Marcelle, and he had a gentle voice and a gorgeous accent. He took me on a date to see Lucien Freud. I spent more time looking at him than the paintings.
We went on several more outings, and he was always the gentleman, never pushed, and always waited for me to instigate things... he would just look into my eyes, not saying much, blaming it on his lack of English, but he spoke a thousand words. My friends thought it insane that I wasn't sleeping with him. Each time he wanted to invite me back to his room to show me his "artwork" (among other things I'm sure
), I declined, and he took t in stride. I just didn't want to spoil things, which were just fine the way they were. Although we were both in our 20's, it was so lovely to have an innocent old-fashioned courtship, which was extremely diverting for several weeks.He soon went back to Budapest, and we lost contact... he used to cross my mind quite often. What a lovely, gentle, gorgeous creature.
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