Up until about 2 months ago, I never thought of myself as the hookup type. I used to tell myself I only wanted to have sex with people I loved. After discovering the enjoyment of friends with benefits, that standard was lessened to a necessity for platonic love. And after one too many dry spells, it was lessened one last time— I decided I'd have sex with almost anyone I could get along with and was attracted to. At first it felt as if I was betraying my morals, but I came to realize being sexually active was nothing to be ashamed of. I'm 23, single, and horny almost around the clock. So, admittedly, breaking out of the rigid moral constraints I confined myself to felt empowering. But it also exposed me to the cruel realization that having sex made me get quickly attached to whomever I was screwing. It was a reaction I desperately needed to stop, because I sure as hell wasn't going to choose my emotional well-being over dick.
So what's a girl to do when she needs to learn to stop getting clingy with everyone she fucks?
Fuck some more, clearly.
When I realized I craved intimacy more than I feared heartbreak, I took to a dating app in search of a new hookup. Although I wasn't afraid of getting my heart broken anymore, I didn't relish the idea either. I promised myself I'd be careful and in control, that I would make sure I didn't take anyone into the bedroom with the intention of being anything other than a great lay. I needed closeness, but I needed boundaries too.
I had to think hard about what it was I really wanted from whoever I chose— and I had to make sure I was up front about it. I just wanted someone to have fun with from time to time, not just through sex, but enjoying each other's company as well. I wasn't ready for a full on one night stand, it just seemed too empty. I decided I was going to challenge myself to find an easy-going, no commitment, dating relationship, so I could get my brains fucked out without losing my mind.
I put my best foot forward on my dating profile, trying to be as accurate and brief as possible. I wrote that I was open to friends, friends with benefits, and casual dating. I uploaded photos that flaunted my assets, but didn't erase my flaws. I wasn't in love with myself, but I didn't mind how I looked. I'm 5'4 and pretty damn chubby (188 pounds to be exact) but I carry the weight well, sporting thick round hips, a curvy waist, and full bosom. My skin is a sun-kissed caramel, soft to the touch and decorated in various places with pale stretch marks. I have a half sleeve full of colorful flowers tattooed along the length of my right forearm and left nostril piercing that sported a classic silver hoop. My hair is short and thick, growing in a deep dark brown that might as well have been black, just enough to run fingers through but not nearly long enough to pull. I have brown, almond shaped eyes that give a milk chocolate glow in the sunlight, and a pair of plump lips, the top being a noticeably darker shade of pink than the bottom. I also had a tiny butt, love handles, and my breasts drooped low when they came out of their 38DD cups. I was flawed like any other human, but just as desirable as any everyday woman. I put myself out there and the messages kept rolling in.
But there was one in particular that caught my eye, from an incredibly handsome older man who reminded me of a highschool teacher I once had a crush on. He had fair skin and mousy brown hair that contrasted a mature grey stubble, along with a pair of piercing light blue eyes. He was a few inches taller than I was at 5'10 and had a medium build, with thick muscular arms that looked soft to the touch. He described himself as confident, affectionate, and passionate, and described me as an earthy, sensual beauty he'd love to spend time with. He was flattering but not overbearing, and after exchanging messages for a couple days I was absolutely swoon. I gave him my number, and I learned he lived in New York, a little under two hours from my home in Connecticut. The distance worried me at first, I didn't know if it'd be wise to drive so far to meet someone that was a stranger just one month ago...but that fear melted a few weeks later when he spontaneously asked to come visit me.
I agreed and we met that same night.
I was ridiculously nervous in the few hours preparing for our date. I dolled up in a tight fitting pair of tartan pattern, black and white slacks, and a sleeveless black turtleneck, complemented with matching boots, a dark red lip, and dangling floral earings. I hope he likes what he sees when we meet in person, I thought.
When I saw his car pull into my driveway around 9:30, my heart was beating so hard I could almost feel my pulse echo against my eardrums. Suddenly I was reminded of every insecurity I had, and a wave of anxiety flooded over me as I walked towards the car, struggling to keep myself balanced while waving my hips with a slight exaggeration. I was a few paces away from the car when he hopped out of the drivers seat and made his way around to the passenger side. He was shorter in person, and sexier as well, which didn't help ease my pounding chest. Seeing him for the first time I couldn't help but let my face spread into a wide smile that beamed so hard I was positive I looked goofy as all hell. God, I hope he likes me.
"Hi Ana, it's so nice to finally meet you!" he said in an excited but smooth tone. If he hadn't told me he hosted a radio show, I would've recommended he start immediately, because his voice was lush and calming.
"Hi Paul, it's nice to meet you too!" I said happily.
"Wow...you look amazing. Is it okay if I give you a hug?" he asked.
I felt a hot rush of blood to my cheeks that I hoped he couldn't see in the moonlight.
"Thank you! And yeah, of course!"
He closed the short space between us and put a firm hand on the small of my waist, pulling me close as I wrapped my arms around his neck with an odd sense of familiarity. I stepped up on my toes and pushed myself against him as he pressed his body up against mine. He squeezed me tight as I rested my head on his shoulder. We stood that way in silence for almost a half a minute before I could breath to speak.
"You smell really good." I said softly. He thanked me and let me out of his grip, still keeping his hands on my sides. "You ready?" he asked. I nodded sheepishly.
He smiled wide and took a second to stare into my eyes before making his way over to the passenger door. He opened it for me and gestured inside, a display that I thought only existed in film, but now was real life, and left me incredibly charmed.
"What a gentleman." I teased as I stepped into the car. "Thank you." He smiled and said you're welcome before closing the door and hopping back inside.
The drive was about 45 minutes to our destination. I was worried to death I'd bore him with an inability to make conversation, especially since I was already somewhat shy and introverted. I felt assured my people skills would fail me in the presence of such an attractive man, but he was easy to talk to which helped me relax immensely. He let me call all the shots for our date which I appreciated; I chose an old fashioned pizza place and popular karaoke spot for afterward. At the pizza place we sat and got to know each other better, talking more in detail about our jobs, our families, our interests, shared and otherwise. I was chattier after the red wine I sipped at hastily, and eventually the anxiety I felt earlier seemed to disappear.
He went to the bathroom and when he returned he sat right next to me instead of across as he had been before. I was caught off guard but was delighted at the idea of him wanting to be closer to me. After we ate and the restaurant began to wind down, he surprised me again by asking for permission to kiss my neck. My heartbeat skipped a few times before I could bring myself to answer. Nervous once again but incredibly aroused by his bold suggestion, I said yes.
He leaned in close to the nape of my neck and gently pressed slightly parted lips against my flushed skin. They were perfectly dewy as he lingered there for a moment. A spark ignited where his mouth met my body and shot through me from head to toe. I sighed quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to us, as I fought back the urge to moan. I was starting to feel a slight wetness between my legs just as he lifted his head and pulled back. I turned to face him and his smile met mine and we locked eyes silently again. I wasn't embarrassed to have blushed this time around, Paul looked satisfied with how easily he'd made me turn red. I wondered if he knew just how much he turned me on.
It was nearing midnight when we wrapped up our food to go and headed toward the karaoke bar. He had his arm around my waist for the entire walk to and from the car. While I knew this was just a hot date, with his hands on me in public seeming proud to show me off, I couldn't help but let myself relish in the idea of being his, even if it was just for tonight.
By the time we got to the spot, my head was swimming. I'd had two glasses of wine and we stopped to smoke a joint along the way, so I was feeling dangerously free and still somewhat horny from his provocative kiss. We grabbed a seat at the end of a long booth meant for about 8 people, and we had it all to ourselves as most of the crowd danced or sang or hung out around the bar. He bought me a beer and then another two before I finally got the courage to take a shot at karaoke. I was definitely no singer, but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. I watched him laugh light-heartedly as I slurred lyrics together and struggled to keep up with the pace of the wordless tune. This was the part of the night where I should've been most embarrassed, but instead it was the most fun.
The bar seemed to close abruptly just 10 minutes after my tone-deaf rendition of Kanye West's "Gold Digger." We made our way out just as the lights came on and the bouncers started to alert attendants that while they didn't have to go home, they surely had to fuck off. It made us both laugh how quickly they cleared out the space.
