Moral of the story:
Great kissing does not equal great sex. So I wonder if that means bad kissing could mean awesome sex? Hey Coach… (see Bumble Date #3).Me. Tuesday at 4:30 p.m. (I’m noticing a lot happens at 4:30 p.m.)
Sexy Lips and I had met at the tea shop Friday. (See post “The First Week: Bumble Date #2”) On Saturday he invited me to come to his home after work Wednesday. I said yes.
He said he had wine but if I was picky I could bring some. I said I wasn’t picky but I’d bring some if he liked. He said he appreciated my straightforwardness.
We set the date up but didn’t do any of the normal, “How’s your day going?” texts. Fine with me. Those are boring anyway.
Wednesday came and I was nervous as fuck So nervous that I had stomach pains as if I’d have diahrrea, not sexy. It bothered me all day at work. I didn’t want to cancel. I had the idea that I would feel better once I got there. And I did.
He lived in a gorgeous hundred year old house on a semi-private street. Yes lovely. The house was a bit messy but not unclean, just not neat.
He kissed me and I felt better. We kissed. And kissed and kissed.
We smoked CBD. We talked. It was nice.
He asked me if I wanted to have sex and I said yes.
So… the sex. Interesting.
We kissed and then he jumped right in. I was kinda hoping for some fooling around beforehand. What’s with people? Don’t they know foreplay? Don’t they know women need 20 minutes to get warmed up? Don’t they know clit-or-is? It’s a good word. Learn it, find it, be kind to it.
He said he liked to do it slow. No kidding. I mean. Slow. So slow. If he’d been bigger it would have been mind-blowing. But it was nice. It was better than wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. My leg started falling asleep. It was kind of zen but I haven’t had good sex in a while and I needed it. I wanted more, more movement, more size, more biting, more passion.
While we were having sex he made funny noises, like whimpering.
He asked if I “creamed” and I lied. 😦
He warned me that he was loud when he “creamed.” Uh. Yeah, no kidding. He bawled loudly like a moose. Like four times.
After he made me spaghetti, we drank wine and smoked more CBD, listened to music and talked and laughed. So that was fun.
I think I will go back again.
p.s. I have to go back. I left my favorite ring there damnit.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com