I am no stranger to intimate dating and random acts of sex, but I had this one blind date one night who just couldn’t wait to get me home. I still feel really weird about this encounter even though it was years ago, and can’t help feeling I managed to escape more than just fondling. My every instinct told me I did the right thing when I cut and run.
I still have the feeling that this was a pretty narrow escape, why, I don’t know, simply instinct I suppose.
After my divorce I discovered the internet and adult dating sites, and I actually found these very effective. I had a busy job and two children and didn’t really get time to go out much. This guy was unusually eager to get together, but I held him off a bit and then relented and decided to meet.
First it was a bad idea to have him pick me up at home, I should have met him under my own steam. This dude had his hands on me from the moment I stepped in his car – like he has known me for years? Intimate dating and intimacy is not an issue for me, I am not a prude, but I want a man to wait until I feel comfortable enough to invite him into my space.
Fortunately the restaurant was not far, we walked in with his arm around my waist, and I was not comfortable, we walked out with his arm even further around my waist and I was still not comfortable. Something was wrong with this dude and I was giving him the benefit of the doubt.
He was well read, intelligent, a businessman and he dabbled in creative writing in his spare time, much like me. But he walked me into the restaurant with his hands all over me and walked me out the same way, somehow I didn’t feel comfy. I thought I would give him the benefit of another half hour of my company when he suggested tea.
I gave him the benefit of the doubt and we drove off in his car, but no matter how I tried to engage him in conversation, he didn’t seem able to get his hands out of my pants and kept unzipping my jeans.
We arrived in a nearby affluent suburb and I realized this guy was taking me home, to his home? So in I went – another bad idea. He had a nice home, but the moment he got me in the door he was fumbling with me and I just didn’t feel either turned on or comfortable. I like to feel charmed, not forced upon, no matter how trite this might appear.
The last straw was when he bent me backwards over the arm of one of the sofas and still no tea. Pulled up my top and told me he was in love with my nipple. I had to get out of there, there was something not right. So I asked him to take me home.
I still today believe I am fortunate, he did take me home, but I firmly believe that with intimate dating one should listen to their instincts and this time I did.
