I was really looking forward to a first date recently. I'd been having bad luck with first dates flaking and canceling on me. My husband would say they got cold feet or men were thinking that I wasn't real and such. For whatever reason, I haven't met anyone new in months. I do have a couple of playpartners in my life still so there wasn't really any rush to meet anyone new. I just thought I could find one more new guy as the regular play partners tend to take me for granted at times and are not always available.
Colin was in his mid twenties and looked quite attractive in his pictures. We chatted a few days and eventually a date was set up for drinks on a recent weekday night. He had told me that he couldn't stay out too late since he worked early but was eager to meet me and didn't want to flake. He seemed quite sweet.
I drove downtown, about a 30 minute drive, after getting permission from my husband to go out for the date. Colin was cute in person too and we seemed to get along well. We enjoyed a beer and laughed and chatted. We were soon to the "my hand on his arm and his hand on my thigh" part of the date, signifying to me that it was going well.
He asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I said that was fine, he paid the bill, and we walked outside. Then the walk turned into a drive which turned into parking behind the bar. He kissed me as we sat in the front bucket seats. Cake was right, bucket seats have got to go. The backseat was brought up. I rolled my eyes. No. I'm 47 years old. I have written about backseat shenanigans in my books and such but I'm quite over it. I'm not risking police trouble for this yahoo. He seemed displeased but had no other offer of what to do or where to go so he said that he had to get going. He drove me back to my car, kissed me and told me he'd like to see me again and then drove off. It was about 9pm.
Are you fricken kidding me? So lame. Nothing for me and I drove downtown for an hour or so for a beer and a guy hoping I'd fuck him in his compact car? I realized that I was about 2 blocks from Christopher's place. He had friend zoned me last summer with the normal reason of wanting to look for a serious relationship which is difficult with me around. I get it. Christopher and I had been quite close friends too though and had been lovers on and off for 2 years. Maybe he would want to meet me for a drink. A 2nd beer would be nice.
I texted him as I sat in my car post-mediocre date. He replied right away. He was already in bed also telling me that he had to work early. I knew that he always worked early but I also knew that sometimes he didn't mind staying up late anyway. The next message advised me that he was just debating on sleeping or masturbating. Game on.
After some off color jokes about cock sucking and such, I was invited over for some play time. I messaged my husband to let him know what I was up to and he said it was fine so off I went to Christopher's place. He met me in the parking lot and laughed as I walked up pointing out the fact that he has a beard now. I'm not a beard fan. It's kind of funny because the men I date know this and all seem to grow a beard after things end between us. It's like their cry of freedom from mrs Sexy. Things don't always end badly with men I see, but the beard growth post-me epidemic happens no matter what the ending.
He gave me a big hug and a long kiss in the parking lot. Fuck. I forgot that he's a good kisser, even with the beard. We got to his apartment and went right to the bedroom, kissing and fondling along the way.
