By guest blogger Pete.
I’ve been single now for 6 months. I’ve been through a few breakups in my time but this one was different. We were together for 4 years and I thought I was going to marry this girl. For the first time ever after a breakup, the thought of being single didn’t excite me.
Usually, immediately after a breakup I’m straight on bumble/tinder. Sliding into the DM’s on Instagram, posting a good photo on socials and organising a big night out with boys. Basically, I’d cast a wide net and reel it in in an attempt to have sex ASAP. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else?? This may sound shallow and vacuous to some people reading this, but I guarantee you, this is exactly what 9/10 guys will do in similar circumstances.
This time however, I was genuinely dreading the thought of having to make small talk with strangers. It filled me with dread. Furthermore, we’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic. I could just about get my head round the idea of meeting someone in a nice bar in the city, having a few cocktails etc. But a sober, socially distanced walking date? Fucking no thanks. I thought I’d just chill out, wait until the new year and be lonely and single for a bit. I’d get over it and come round to the idea of dating again.
A month later.
I’m feeling better. I’m fortunate enough that I’ve been able to work during the pandemic so its been really good to throw myself into that and not worry about dating. I’m not thinking about the ex on a daily basis anymore (great) and I’m generally in a much better mood. Cue Friday night after a pretty hectic week at work. I’m sitting at home. Its 10.00pm. I’ve had a couple of G&T’s. I’m on the ‘gram.
I respond to someone’s throwback story about Espresso Martinis/nights out.
I say someone; her name is Connie. Connie is 29, long dark hair, beautiful, and works as a lawyer. She has an extremely dry sense of humour and is very quick witted. I’ve known Connie for about 5 years, just through nights out/ mutual acquaintances etc. We’ve had a bit of a flirt in the past but nothing inappropriate. Either she’s been taken, or I’ve been taken. I’m aware shes single. She’s aware I’m single. I fancy Connie.
Me – What I’d do for a night out atm, even just being able to see the boys **cryingface emoji**
Connie – Oh don’t me too!!
Connie – Why don’t you come over for some espresso martinis? If you’re free? I’m going a bit lockdown stir crazy.
Is this a booty call?!
Connie – That also sounded like a booty call, its not **laughing face**. Next weekend?
Dammit. But this sounds like a date to me. Am I ready for a date? Fuck yes. Couldn’t care less if its highly illegal at this point in time, I’ve had gin. And this girl is roasting hot.
Me – Hahahaha, I’d fucking love to. Next weekend sounds great. Saturday?
Connie – Perfect. Whats your number? I’ll whatsapp you.
Me – 07*********
Connie – Text you tomorrow we can sort out the deets. Night xxx
Well. That was fucking easy.
We’ve exchanged a few texts throughout the week but absolutely not full on texting. I like this. She’s not needy. I’m still deciding whether or not this is a good idea and the fact that she’s chill is making me more attracted to her. I decide not to bail.
Friday afternoon she texts:
Connie – Still ok for tomorrow?
Me – Absolutely! I’ve been asked to work during the day though, so will be coming straight from work. Is it ok if I get changed at yours?
Connie – Yeah of course! What time will you be over?
Me – Around 7.30-8ish?
Connie – Looking forward to it see you then
I am working on the Saturday and could easily get changed at work. However, I’m a uniformed worker, so, this is serving two purposes:
- If I get stopped for whatever reason en-route I have a decent excuse as to why I’m out.
- Girls fucking LOVE the uniform. I’m peacocking. I don’t care. I’m shameless.
I’m en route to hers. I am uncharacteristically nervous.
I’ve picked up a bottle of red, some gin, tonics and some olives. I’ve shaved and shaped my beard/stubble. My hair is looking pretty good (its super long right now with the hairdressers all being shut, however its kinda flopped into an accidental Hugh Grant/Harry styles long cut.) I also shaved my pubes earlier cause you never know right?? I’ve got my work bag with a change of clothes in it. I stop outside her front door and touch up my aftershave around my ears. I also pop a fresh piece of chewing gum in. I turn round and give myself a final once over in the window of a parked car. I look good. Rugged, yet sharp and the uniform is helping.
Here goes nothing. I ring the bell.
Connie answers. Fucking Wow. She looks unreal. She’s in a black, summery floaty dress that comes just past the knee. She’s showing quite a bit of cleavage but by no means a slutty amount. Her hair is down to one side and shes got a face of makeup on.
She bursts out laughing.
Connie – “That uniform!! Come in. How you doing?”
Uniform – Check! I kiss her on the cheek, she’s got a really nice perfume on.
Connie – “You smell amazing, btw, what are you wearing?”
I tell her and silently congratulate myself on putting the aftershave on before I rang the doorbell. I repay the compliment. She’s wearing Chanel. Classy – I like it. She leads me through to the kitchen and there are 2 Espresso Martinis on the counter waiting. I am delighted to see them and I tell her so. The kitchen is dimly lit, shes got candles on and the place smells amazing. I’m not sure what it smells of but its that single girl scented candle vibe. Shes got a low-key chilled house playlist on, its vibey and putting me in a great mood. We cheers and I take a deep pull on the Martini. Its well-made, chilled and delicious. I can feel the nerves melt away.
The conversation is easy and flowing, I’m mid-way through espresso martini number 1 and already enjoying myself. We’re keeping eye contact as we chat and I’m trying not to look at her cleavage. Espresso Martini #1 is over within minutes for both of us. Maybe shes a bit nervous too?
Connie – “Another?” She gestures towards my empty glass
Me – “Silly question! However, do you mind if I get changed first and then I’ll make you one to repay the favour” I smile at her.
Connie – “Haha yes no worries I’ll show you up.” She beams back at me.
She leads up the stairs to her bedroom;
Connie – “There you go . I’ll go and wait patiently for my Martini” She smiles and closes the door behind me.
Her room is gorgeous. Well decorated. Smells great. I notice fresh sheets on the bed and start to daydream about sleeping with her…. I snap out of it and dig my stuff out to get changed. I’ve opted for black tight fit jeans, a fitted long white T, and a khaki green overshirt. I feel this strikes a good balance between smart/cas and think its quite a good compromise for a home date. I check myself in the mirror and adjust my hair. I’m feeling confident now and I look good.
I walk back into the kitchen where Connie is now sitting at her candlelit kitchen table, legs crossed and texting. She puts her phone down as soon as I walk back in and smiles at me.
Connie – “I love your shirt.”
Me – “Thanks!”
I once again silently congratulate myself, this time for choice of outfit.
Me – “Right. Martinis. You wont get offended if mine is better than yours will you?” I grin at her.
Connie – “Good luck with that Pal, my martinis are champion.”
Little does she know I spent 5 years working in cocktail bars. I whip up 2 more martinis. They’re really good.
Connie – “Fuck. Ok these are great” she laughs.
I graciously accept her compliment and explain to her I have a slight unfair advantage. She laughs again and tells me I can make the drinks for the rest of the night in that case. I laugh and accept.
We ease into what turns out to be a great night of easy conversation, laughter, eye contact and heavy flirting. Her conversation is great, she’s really interested in my work and I’m interested in hers. She’s highly career driven which I find attractive and talks about her job with passion. 3 hours slip by quickly and we move onto the G&T’s. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, when I come back shes standing at the counter making us drinks. I sidle up next to her and nudge her
Me – “Thought this was my job?!”
Connie – “You can make it up to me”
She turns, faces me, puts her arms round my neck and pulls me down for a kiss.
She kisses me hard. She’s a fucking great kisser and I can feel myself getting turned on. She clearly can too as she pulls away, looks at my crotch, smirks, pecks me on the lips and sits back down with her G&T. I grin at her and take my place opposite her and we carry on chatting.
Connie – “So, I take it you’re staying?” Shes playing with her hair as she asks. Pretty sure this is a solid sign she a) fancies me and b) we’re having sex.
Me – “I mean, if that’s ok with you?”
Connie – “Of course don’t be silly. But I’m telling you now cowboy, we aint having sex” She laughs. I smile at her.
Me – “Understood. Loud and clear”.
I wouldn’t have judged her for sleeping with me. Although this does feel very first date-ish we have known each other for a good few years. Equally however, I am attracted to the fact she’s not a complete push-over.
We carry on chatting, we’re getting progressively more and more drunk and I’ve lost count of the amount I’ve had to drink. I’m not really caring though, the conversation is really great. We’ve got a lot in common and we’ve both lamented the fact we hadn’t done this before now. We exchange a few more kisses and there is clear chemistry there. I’ve not looked at my phone all night, and glance at it. Its 3am! Fuck, I’m tired all of a sudden but don’t want to be impolite and end what is a great date.
Me – “Might get back on the espressos… whatcha think?”
Connie – “Yes I’ll have one too”
I nip to the loo to splash some cold water on my face and try and wake myself up a bit. I come back in and Connie has her head on the table across folded arms. Shes snoring softly. I smile to myself. She looks cute. I nudge her. No response. Nudge her again slightly harder, no response. Once more, a solid nudge/shove. Nothing. Fucks sake. I can’t leave her here and she is out COLD. She’s sitting at a side on angle to the table, so I put my arm under her knees and the other round her torso and lift her up and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom.
Her bed is massive so I put her down on the nearest side to the door. With her eyes closed she wriggles and squeezes herself under the duvet, fully clothed. I feel super tired now. Its almost 4am. I grab my toothbrush from my work bag and use her en-suite to brush my teeth. I walk round to the other side of the bed, take off my jeans and overshirt and get into bed beside her. I’m asleep in minutes.
Where am I and what the fuck happened?! It starts to come back to me, bit by bit. Its daylight, Connie has blackout curtains and I’m so thankful for them. My head is POUNDING. How much did we drink?! I’m spooning a now half naked Connie. I also have a large morning boner and I’m prodding her in the back although I’m not horny in the slightest.
I roll over onto my back, she stirs and wakes up at the same time.
Connie – “Oh my fucking god my head”
Me – “Me too. You got paracetamol?”
She gets up silently and walks out the room holding her brow with one hand. She comes back 2 minutes later with 4 paracetemols and 2 glasses of water. Amazing. She checks her phone.
Connie – “Its only 7.30 can we go back to sleep for a few hours”
Me – “Yes. Perfect.”
She gets back into bed and snuggles into me, but facing away. I fall asleep again almost instantly.
I wake up and I’m spooning Connie again. The morning boner is back and this time I am extremely horny. The dreaded hang horn. It was a matter of time. Fuck. She’s stirring too. She starts to push her bum into my crotch.
I push my crotch back and she pushes her bum back further. She grabs my hand from the mattress in front of her and puts it on her boob. Her hand leaves mine and reaches back for my boxers…
The sex was brilliant. Perfect hang cure. We spooned, then she went on top, then doggy, and then she asked for missionary but wanted to put both legs over my shoulders as it was “guaranteed to make her cum”. It did. As did I. One of those rare sexual chemistry moments where you both climax almost simultaneously. Although I will admit it was fucking hard to hold it back.
We fell asleep a third time after the sex and I woke up a few hours later. Connie wasn’t in bed, but walked back into the room a few minutes later wearing my shirt from the night before and holding a cup of black coffee for me.
Connie – “I don’t normally do that…”
She was referring to the sex and acting sheepish. I’m not sure if I believe her to be honest but frankly, I don’t care. I had a great time and a great evening.
I smiled at her
Me – “Honestly don’t worry about it. Zero judgement here and it takes two to tango.”
She seems relieved.
Connie – “Wait till you see how much fucking booze we drank last night”.
I finish my coffee and drag myself out of bed. The kitchen is a bomb site. There is an almost empty bottle of vodka and an empty bottle of gin. Holy shit no wonder the hang is bad.
I help Connie clean up, its not awkward or strained. We’re chatting away and I feel good about the date and the sex. But my hang is getting worse despite the paracetamol and coffee. The hang is accompanied by a huge sense of neediness and anxiety that I only ever get whilst hungover. I need to go otherwise she’s going to think I’m a stage 3 clinger.
I make my excuses and tell her I have to go. She walks me to the front door. She’s done her teeth and leans in for another long kiss. I pull away, smile at her, and tell her I’ll text her that evening. I peck her once more on the lips and leave.
My Phone pings 20 minutes later.
“I had a great night . Let me know when you’re home. I’m going back to bed. x”
We text on and off for a few days and arrange a second date.
Its been over 2 months and we’ve still not had that date.
She’s definitely done that before…..
*Jaded Dating Note: This post was written by a friend of mine Pete. Pete is straight, handsome and charming. His idea and all his words. I didn’t change or edit. Let me know what you think of my guest blogger as you can imagine, he has plenty of dating stories so more could come…