I had date #3 with Anderson last week. He took me out for a very nice dinner, which I enjoyed. I even agreed to let him pick me up, which is totally unlike me. He was very charming and gracious, the perfect mix of gentleman and flirty as we dined outside at the classy bistro.
But somewhere between his arrival text announcing: “I have arrived. Your knight is awaiting his princess,” and the delicious goat cheese cranberry appetizer dip, I came to the almost painful conclusion that I will probably never want to rip this man’s clothes off. I don’t see myself feeling passion of any kind for him, in fact. I really can’t bear to analyze why, I just accept this as my reality.
So dinner was a bit of a grind for me after that little epiphany, but yet I managed to stay present and engage in conversation. In a light-hearted moment as I was searching my mind for something to talk about, I foolishly asked him if anything “tasty” had happened to him since we had last seen one another. What I was really thinking was, have you done any of your boy-toy routine lately for the married couple you sometimes see, but I didn’t want to come right out and ask that.
He thought for a moment then launched into how he had gotten a text from his ex-girlfriend expressing how much she missed him. He went on to say how it had been less than wonderful to let her down yet again. I was getting somewhat bored, but managed to summon enough energy to advise him that the best thing my ex’s ever do if they don’t want me is to ignore me. I told him as long as he engages with her it will keep the dreaded cycle going. This seems like “Break-up Tips for Men 101” to me, but yet I see so many guys who are unable to do this, including Tristan, who drug me along on the bumper of his sagging, tired ass for years in precisely the same way.
I started to tune out a bit until out of the blue he startled me with the same question I had asked him. “So you asked me if anything tasty had happened to me this week, how about you? Anything tasty happen to you?” His blue eyes were somewhat expectant as they searched mine for an honest answer.
Before I could put on my poker-face and stonewall him, my immediate reaction leapt off my skin and said it all. I sheepishly hung my head and giggled like a school girl as the blow-job I had given Gray in the Porsche dealership instantly popped into my mind. After that, there was no getting out of telling Anderson, despite my attempts at putting him off.
“I think discussing this will be kind of awkward, given that we are on a date,” I said, somewhat uncomfortably after realizing my plight. The hem-hawing around made it seem like a bigger deal than it really was, and I could tell by now he was thinking all sorts of crazy things, so finally I just blurted out, “I gave a guy a ride to the car dealership this week and gave him a blow-job once we got there.”
Anderson sat there stunned with no other reaction on his face besides complete shock. We sat there awkwardly until he admitted that he was kind of thrown by the situation.
He looked at me with a sudden resolve to clarify things. “So on our last date you told me about Roberto, and now you’re telling me about this thing with Gray… He trailed off, seemingly grasping at straws as his face searched mine incredulously, So you have *two* friends with benefits?” He asked holding up two fingers in uncensored disbelief. “Does this mean we are just friends?” He asked insecurely.
Oh fuck. Here we go, I thought with dismay. It’s way to early to be labeling what we are or are not. How the hell am I going to get out of this dreadful conversation? I did what any sane person would do at that moment and evaded the question. I shifted it back to him and muttered something stupid, like, “We are whatever you want us to be.” It was not one of my finer moments, suffice it to say.
Miraculously that did right the ship somewhat and the conversation was steered back to more even waters.
After dinner he asked if I would like to do something else, so I decided to invite him over to my place for a bit to see if there was any hope for some sparks to ignite. There was some oral sex, and he was quite skilled at finding my erogenous zones, but yet I couldn’t wait for him to leave.
He just doesn’t do it for me, lovies.
Maybe it’s too early to write him off, given on our first date he did take my breath away when I first saw him.
Who really knows? I’m emotionally drained from my week with Roberto, and in no mood for another relationship.