Tag Archives: Starbucks

Date 13.1: Out of Order

Sometimes, I have to write. That’s my disclaimer, just in case my agent happens to pop by to check in on how one of her favorite deadline-deliquent writers happens to be doing in the dating world. Yes, I should be working on edits, and I have been (along with copyediting for hire, since the money’s more immediate), but a girl needs a break every once in awhile.

Anyway, all that said, I was on a date the other night (20.2, which I’ll get to another day), and there was Date 13, sitting at the next table! No doubt, the world is way too small, but the situation was somewhat incriminating. Date 20 could tell I was uncomfortable, so I felt led to gloss over why, specifically, having this particular young stud hang out with his man-posse (probably his gym friends) over yonder made me ill at ease.

So here we go, then, with an examination of the half-truths offered in explanation of the situation:

1. I went out with him once.

“Went out with” is a rather generous way to put it. Actually, what happened was that a girlfriend and I went out for drinks one night at a restaurant bar reputed for its (wealthy) over-40 clientele. While there, none of the silver-haired fellows with whom I’d probably be a better match (since their kids are older, like mine) even glanced in our direction. Two young guys walked into the bar, however, and sat at the table right next to ours.

My girlfriend immediately called the one with the gargantuan set of muscles. Fine by me, I nodded in agreement, since the other guy was hot, too, and a little quirkier, which tends to be my type.

Maybe up close they realized we were a lot older than them or maybe they were just shy, but after ten minutes of their sitting right next to us (there were lots of empty tables–they didn’t have to choose that one) and not saying anything, I made an excuse to strike up conversation. Unfortunately, the ploy I used (inquiring about muscle-guy’s physique, saying my teenage son wants to bulk up but I don’t know what he should be eating) kind of backfired on me, since he wound up being a personal trainer who then wanted my business. No matter, though, because it did the job–my excuse of a question got the four of us talking.

I think I’ve mentioned this girlfriend of mine before. The preacher’s daughter? you might be wondering. Um-hmm. Yeah, that’s her. Anyway, she invited the guys back to her house with us for drinks! They seemed like nice enough guys, but I was still shocked. Because, how did we know they weren’t going to attack, kill, or rob us? We’d never met them before!!! I guess my girlfriend and I were both hammered enough to figure there was safety in numbers, though, because we wound up leaving my car parked near the restaurant, taking off in the quirky guy’s Mercedes for my girlfriend’s hillside custom luxury home.

Once there, we drank, played pool, spilled wine, and started to watch a movie. Muscle-guy kept pulling my girlfriend into the other room to put the moves on her in private, which I guess she rebuffed. In the mean time, I was having a great time playing footsie with the quirky dude (who turned out to be one of the muscle-guy’s personal training clients, as it happened).

His moves thwarted, muscle-guy declared he had to get home, demanding he and the quirky guy immediately leave. “Want to come with us?” the quirky guy asked me.

“Will you be okay if I go?” I asked my girlfriend.

“Please!” she said. “We’re both grown women. Go have some fun.”

So I did.

After we dropped off the petulant muscle-bound guy, Date 13 drove me back to his place. Only 34 years old, he had a head full of gorgeous dark hair, beautiful creamy skin, and that personal trainer he employed? Dude knew his stuff, because Date 13’s bod was rockin’!

I can’t remember if we had sex three or four times, but I do recall how fun it was. Definitely dominant, he kept pinning my hands back, plunging himself into me like he wanted to hurt me. And when he went down on me? Dude was relentless, repeatedly making me cry out with how aggressively he sucked my clit.

Okay–I know I said I wasn’t going to get too graphic here, so I apologize. Basically, I just want to relate the fact that the sex was hot, and I definitely would have been down for more. Date 13 climaxed repeatedly, so I thought he might have shared that opinion, but maybe he had a heart-to-heart with his cat afterward (she was making racket all night, the way my also-Siamese cat does when she wants someone to get lost) and she gave me the thumbs down, since although he accepted my friend request on facebook, he never ended up calling.

2. I’m not sure, but I think he might be on steroids or something.

Here’s where the story gets interesting, in my opinion: the next morning, Date 13 took me out to Starbucks on the way to pick up my car. While in Starbucks, we ran into one of his gym buddies, a majorly hot 50-ish guy of the ilk I wished I were dating (seriously thinking about joining their gym in the future!). The two of them made friendly, casual conversation. I was a little embarrassed, since being with Date 13 so early in the morning was somewhat walk-of-shameish (despite my being dressed in workout clothes, since I’d brought them to my girlfriend’s house and then brought them to Date 13’s when we left together), but whatever. The interaction with this acquaintance made Date 13 seem like a normal, regular, mild-mannered guy.

As we were leaving the Starbucks parking lot, however, a minivan driven by a family approached us going the wrong way according to the shopping center’s signage. The man at the wheel of the Honda Odyssey shrugged an apology, waving for us to pass, clearly indicating he realized he was in the wrong and sorry for any inconvenience. Date 13 rolled down the window of his Mercedes.

“Wrong way, asshole!” he yelled, then sped past the minivan on our way out of the parking lot.

Needless to say, sitting in the front passenger seat, I felt like I wanted to disappear. People make mistakes in parking lots, you know? It’s not that big a deal. The fact that Date 13 had to berate this guy for making a wrong turn seemed like a huge red flag to me. Shocked and befuddled over what had happened that morning, I later asked Date 5 what he thought of Date 13’s parking-lot behavior.

“Maybe he just really needed his coffee,” he said, which made me laugh so hard I think I snorted.

Whatever the case, it was obvious Date 13 probably has some anger issues. Maybe he knows it, and he’s embarrassed over what happened, or maybe he’s just not that into me, so even though he asked me for my number as he was dropping me off, he never had any intention of calling. Hard to say. Whatever the case, I didn’t like the idea of sitting there having a glass of wine, trying to get to know Date 20 while Date 13 lurked in the background with his weight-lifting cronies, so Date 20 and I wound up going inside the restaurant, abandoning the patio to its studmuffin mafia.

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Date 4.1: Let’s Talk about Kink

Now, I realize there are different levels of kinkiness. What some consider tame, others think makes them a wild and crazy guy. For example, Date 2, while we were having sex, kept remarking, “You are so submissive!” (Did he do anything about it, however, other than slap my ass a couple times? No, unfortunately, but I hadn’t been planning on going there with it, so the sex was still rockin’.) Date 3, on the other hand, straight out informed me that he was a little kinky. “Put on your shoes,” he ordered before proceeding to fuck me standing up in front of his mirrored closet doors. Eh, whatever. Not my thing, but I could see it–they were an awfully sexy pair of high-heeled sandals.

Maybe I’m a little blasé about the world of kink, but you have to understand, even my high school boyfriend and I (my first real love, when I was 16 and he was only 15–yikes! I know) had somewhat of a D/s relationship. (Side note: at the beginning of my senior year of high school, this bf dumped me, leaving me emotionally devastated. As I found out later–remember how I mentioned those exes coming out of the woodwork on facebook?–he thought he could do better, that every girl was like me, enjoying sex two-plus hours at a time and more than willing to indulge his fantasies. But guess what? No such luck! Because he’s a total player, I find this shocking. Apparently, though, I’m more unique than he figured, leading him to lobby a quasi-proposal of marriage at me. I told him we’d need to meet in person first, to see if the chemistry between us was still there, but on the inside, maybe I’m immature, but I couldn’t help cuing Nelson-from-The-Simpsons’ voice: HA HA!)

Anyway, Date 4 and I had chatted a little by email regarding our mutual interests in the bedroom. We seemed to be hitting it off, so we made plans to meet at Starbucks for coffee. When I showed up, I recognized him from his photos immediately, but he was little older than I expected. Although his online profile listed him as 45, I’d just been out with a 43-year-old (Date 2), a 42-year-old (Date 3), and my ex-husband is currently 45, so I know what that looks like. This guy was definitely older. Hot in his own unique way (I go for geeks, as you might expect, and he was a complete brainiac, as well as fit, so I was totally onboard with his package), I didn’t have any problem with his potentially being older, but something else gave me pause: his lips were blood-flush red. Because I (very unfortunately) have extensive experience with penile dysfunction, my mind immediately flagged the red lips as being a possible side effect of Viagra.

Maybe I’m wrong, and he just had a sunburn (on his lips!) or whatever, but I was flattered. I thought, At least he thinks I’m hot enough to spend a blue pill on me. Those suckers aren’t cheap! So we chose an isolated table and sat down to talk. As it turned out, he wasn’t 45, he was 49 (or at least that was the age he admitted to, since I have a subscription to one of those snooper services, and there’s a guy by his name who owns property in the same areas he does who’s 54).

After we’d gotten through the conversational niceties, discussing our respective kids, divorces, and professional backgrounds, Date 4 matter-of-factly laid out his intentions. I listened in fascination as he casually explained how he’d like to spank me over his knee, eat both my pussy and my ass, then have both regular and anal sex. “We don’t have to do everything right away,” he assured me, “but I’d really like to spank you today. Shall we go to your place?”

!!!

Yeah, I’ve done some kinky stuff, and I’m probably naïve, but I’m not used to going there with someone I so recently met! And the ass-eating? What was up with that?!? No way I was kissing him after that business. But still–I was curious, so we indeed went back to my place, and it was fun.

Not sure I’d want that much variety every day, every time, but we definitely clicked, and I’ve seen him again. I just need to make sure I have an opportunity to rest in between.