So you’ve agreed to meet up with a guy you’ve been emailing through a dating site. Up until the date itself there’s no real pressure. It’s just 2 people communicating electronically with no idea of whether or not they will actually get on.
Then the day comes, as does the realisation your jeans are baggier than you thought and your growing out hair just will not sit right.
You prepare yourself to not look shocked when he turns out to look much more uglier and shorter than you’d envisaged. It dawns on you that so far, he is a character you have dreamt up, a figment of your imagination based on electronic ‘conversation’.
You hope his voice will not make you want to puke, and he is capable of something resembling intelligent conversation.
Then you walk in the door…..
8 hours later, you leave wondering when you’ll see him again, and when you’ll hear from him again. You already want his hands and his tongue on you again. But you know not to get carried away, not to get your hopes up.
You want him to text you. So you let him know you got home ok. His reply cannot be analysed as it doesn’t really say much. You respond to his, and keep checking your phone to see if he has replied as iMessage shows the time he read your last text.
You wonder if perhaps you blew it by being too available. If you should have left hours ago and kept him wanting more, instead of acting like hormonal teenagers in the park.
You vow not to text him again until he contacts you. You wonder if it’s the lust driving you crazy, and assume it probably is. You think about him, your conversation, anything that might be a deal-breaker. Divorced? Kids? But damn he almost made you cum through kissing your neck.
Your self-esteem applauds you for not going back to his. Your libido calls you a prude. You dwell on how many dates until its the right time, and realise that sometimes, you just have to take a leap off the cliff and hope the safety net is out below. And what the hell as long as you cum first, and repeatedly, you’re not all that fussed about a relationship.
You take the edge off with a quick fiddle, and whilst it feels good you know his tongue down there would be better. The thought alone almost makes you convulse. Then you realise you might have overlusted and built it up too much, and it might just be a damp squib – if you ever see each other again.
The next day you wake up and check your phone. You haven’t heard from him. So you delete his number and text another guy to try to forget about him. The hotter the sex, the faster it fades in your experience.
Waiting to hear from him just makes you even hotter for him. You believed him when he said he didn’t often get this horny with someone, and you know the last time you were this attracted to someone was at the beginning of your last relationship.
But after 24 hours of raging horn, it hits you – it’s not about him, it’s about you. Sure he was gorgeous, but there are plenty of gorgeous men out there. You’re able to feel such heady lust because you’re in a great head space – totally over your ex, open to new experiences, in no rush to get into a relationship, and pretty damn confident in your body. You look forward to your date with the other guy, and accept an invite from another who is rather intriguing. This is no time to settle, this is the time for fun, flirtation and fabulous pleasure. You realise you can afford to be picky because you finally get how amazing you are, and won’t have anything less. So actually, it doesn’t matter you haven’t heard from him because maybe he was supposed to just be a great date and a great realisation. And if you do hear from him again, you’re going to do it on your terms.
It’s time to invest in an another little black book.