The guy I met last night took the cake.
I’ve met some really sexual men in my day, including being married to one, so this isn’t my first rodeo, and I am rarely caught off guard by a man’s sexual advances or discussions involving all things sex related.
But last night, I met the worst case scenario. This guy is truly feral, a wild beast.
Enter Dante. A dark-haired, olive-skinned 38-year-old entrepreneur who has already made millions in the real estate business. He owns several hotels and commercial properties, and comes from a very well-known, politically connected family. He is very well-built and good-looking. In fact, when I met him I was instantly attracted to him and we were holding hands within seconds upon my arrival.
I was on the fence about wearing my heels, because his dating profile had him listed at 5′ 10″. Even though I was in my 4-inch heels, putting me an inch or two taller, we still seemed to be eye-to-eye, and I didn’t feel that I was towering above him. I think it must be his ‘bigger than life’ persona. He was sitting outside the downtown restaurant waiting for me as I walked up the sidewalk from where I had parked my car. I put a little strut in my step as I strode towards him, slightly swinging my little purse on my wrist as I swayed. He kept his gaze fixated on me the entire time as I approached, until I got about 50 feet away, then he rose to walk towards me with a wide grin on his handsome face. It was perfectly natural to greet him with a hug, and he instantly began pointing out all of the nearby places we could dine, and asked if I wanted to take a walk to pick one out for dinner. I was amenable, eager to please this hunk, (even in my not-so-comfortable high heels), so off we went.
As we strolled along, he looked me up and down with a sideways stare, and said quite appreciatively, “You are SO my type, and very, very sexy.” “Thank you!” I said, quite flattered, as I instantly returned the compliment to him, eating up his trendy hair-cut, very stylish clothing and Italian leather shoes. “You are also very sexy.” Things were off to a great start, I thought happily. Who could have guessed that in less than two hours he would be asking me for a golden shower?
We picked a spot that had a 45 minute wait for the balcony terrace seating, so we decided to have a drink at the bar while we waited for our table. He led me over to a big red velvet couch in the corner and asked what I was drinking. I told him a glass of Cabernet, and off he went to order our drinks. Once he was back, he sat next to me and glanced down at my stylish high heels, showcasing bright red freshly painted toenails, and said rather lustily. “Thank you for wearing heels. I would love to suck your toes.” OKAY. WOW, I thought inwardly, with some horror…. a little premature for that, right? But outwardly I reacted rather calmly, and said, “Oh so you have a foot fetish do ya?” Not missing a beat he said, “Yes. I would like to cum on your toes and lick it off.” I sat there silently not knowing what to say, and he plunged on obliviously (or uncaring of my extreme shock), “Would you like that?” He asked with an intense stare flashing from his black eyes.
I gathered my senses enough to choke out, “I don’t know, I’ve never been asked that or even thought about it before.” Again, with no concern for my reaction, he said, “I am as hard as a rock right now, do you see what you’re doing to me?” His steely gaze turned downward to the crotch of his high-priced jeans. In a daze, my eyes followed until I saw a giant stick poking out halfway down his leg. Holy FUCK, I thought to myself. This is serious. I muttered something about that being crazy, as he reached over and brushed his hand across my cleavage, teasingly saying, “You have something right there, let me help you with that.” All of this was happening so fast I didn’t know what to do, and he leaned close to me and said huskily, “Kiss me. Let me taste those big juicy lips.” I didn’t want to, but I was in such shock that it was like I was just following orders, and I obliged. He took it all, not missing a chance to take my tongue, and reached up and grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck and gave it a pretty good tug as he said, “I’m going to cum in your mouth later.”
Oh boy, I thought to myself. This guy has another thing coming later that doesn’t involve an orgasm in my mouth. Part of me wanted to get up that very moment and walk out, and part of me wanted to see if there was anything else to this obviously talented, intelligent man besides sex. I opted for the latter, and stayed. In hindsight, that was not one of my wiser choices.
I managed to change the subject until we got to our table, a candlelit corner nook that he had specifically requested in advance. Playing the role of gentleman momentarily, he pulled my chair out for me, and we were seated. He asked if I would enjoy trying a specific wine that was a favorite of his, and when I agreed, he asked the waitress for a bottle. We settled back and continued chatting.
The hour that followed was something similar to torture for me. Incessant sex talk that was old the moment it started. I felt less than zero interest in this man when every time he opened his mouth he was discussing the different things he would like to do to me, and the various ways we could eat his cum together. It was such bullshit, it really was. At one point I stopped him and said, “You know I have a pretty good douche bag meter, and you’re over the top on it right now.” He was amused by this, not offended. Surprise, surprise.
After our appetizer was gone, he asked if I wanted to order dinner, and seizing my opportunity to flee, I said immediately, “I’d like to go.” Genuine surprise spread across his face. “Really.” He stated dryly, without a question mark attached. “I thought we were having a good time.” I told him he was too one-track-minded, and there was nothing more to keep me interested. He switched gears immediately and asked me to come spend several days with him, and see what his life is like. “Or I could book us a suite in downtown Chicago for the weekend, and we can just hang out and get to know each other.” Plunging on, seemingly grasping at straws, he continued. “My family is also having a get-together on Sunday that you would be more than welcome to attend.”
I said I would like to use the restroom and he hastily pulled out several crisp bills for the table and followed me to the restroom door where he shoved me up against the wall and began kissing me again. I gently pushed him away, and he said laughingly, “That’s not a push that says you really want me to leave you alone.” Happy to oblige, I shoved him much harder and he actually staggered backwards a little. I then pushed open the door to the ladies restroom to go in. He had recovered quickly and as he rested his hand on the restroom door, keeping it slightly open he said, “How about a golden shower, would you do that for me?” I looked at him incredulously for a brief moment, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn’t resist asking, “And just how would you expect that to work in a public restroom?” I stated with a monotone voice and dead expression in my eyes. Completely undeterred, he said brightly, “We could lock ourselves into a stall and I would put my fingers underneath you and play with your pussy as you pee.”
Wow. I just shook my head, told him no way, and walked into the restroom alone.
Getting away from him was no easy feat. He’s a persistent mother fucker. More mauling ensued after I emerged from the restroom, and even more when I got to my car.
I think I’ll start carrying pepper spray. Or a big stick. Creep.