For those of you who do not follow me on Twitter, I regaled the world with a story of my most recent relationship. I wouldn't really even call it a relationship, but perhaps more of an interaction. Allow me to elaborate.
I met this girl named Amy(her real name, she will probably never read this, so I am using it) and everything seemed pretty cool. She was about my age, pretty cute and had a really good sense of humor. After my last girlfriend, it seemed pretty rad to not have to explain every joke I made.
After the dinner and drinks she asked if I wanted to go back to her place to watch "The Voice." This took me aback a little -- there hadn't really been any physical contact at this point, so I figured a fuck session just wasn't in the cards. My first instinct was to decline and play it cool. There is that old cliche that says "leave 'em wanting more." After debating it, I went over.
I did not make a move and nothing sexual happened. This girl was really cool and I figured if she fucked me on the first date, she probably has done it multiple times. I am not trying to date a whore. We hung out and actually watched "The Voice." We hugged and I left.
I could tell this chick was into me, because of the "Good Morning" texts I was receiving. It tells me that I made a good impression and I was on her mind. It seemed sweet and genuine. I was excited because a really great girl was into me. It felt pretty damn amazing. We made plans to go out Saturday night, probably to dinner and maybe grab a drink. Things were looking good for your boy.
Friday night came and I was chilling at the pad alone. Friday nights are not a big social night for me because I work Saturdays and I just don't have a lot of friends. I was enjoying a quiet evening of television when Amy hit me up. We starting talking, she mentioned that she had had a few. (A pattern for this girl). The conversation turned R-rated pretty quickly and she sent a message that every guy wants to hear: "You should come over and fuck me."
Whoa! I was floored. It was a kind of directness that I was not accustomed to. My first impact was to pick my jaw and tongue off of the floor and speed to her pad, potentially endangering any motorists that got in my way. The sensible, respectable part of my brain took over and I said it probably was not a good idea. As much shit as I talk, I think I am a gentleman. I liked and respected this girl and did not want to take advantage of an inebriated woman.
She rephrased her request and I respectfully declined again. I felt pretty good about my decision. In addition to showing respect, I was psychologically fucking her, by playing hard to get. I figured it would make a future sexual encounter more memorable, as by then, she would have much pent-up sexual aggression towards me. It felt like a chess match and I was in control.
Since this is such a long story, it will be split into parts. Part 2 will be up shortly!