Wednesday rolls around and I have plans in the city to meet an old friend and coworker.
I suggest to Finn that we can meet for one quick drink before I meet with my friend. He agrees and, once again, hits the nail on the head with a great location. While this may not matter to some people who live outside a major city, it is a good indicator of the quality of someone’s social life in the city. You need to know the right bars to take your date to. It’s some sort of unspoken rule. Frankly, it’s not that hard to do, even if you are not the most savvy date planner. Just google “best place to take your date in ____” and pick one. First impressions are lasting impressions.
I meet Finn and we are happy to see one another, the date is time-bound which is good since we had spent so much time together over the weekend already.
We had a nice chat and of course he offered to walk me to meet my friend. As we arrived at my location, he didn’t appear to want to leave my side. I cracked a joke that he was worried my friend wasn’t a girl, and he nodded and agreed. Later he claims he didn’t hear me properly and just nodded to whatever I was saying. While I can perhaps believe this, because he did have that dopey “I will agree with anything she says” face on, he also followed me all the way into the bar, and met my friend. This was fine,because he exited quickly.
He mentioned he was shopping for some jeans (because I had commented that his pants were MUCH too short the other night) and we would catch up tomorrow.
My friend and I had a fabulous time and we both drank way too much and ate too little.
Around 4.5 hours later, Finn sent a text that said “Still at the bar?” And, I replied, “Yes, are you going to take care of me?”
Ok, my mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. But little did I know….
After I text him, I stood and went to use the bathroom. By the time I got back, Finn was at the table with my friend.
Sufficiently freaked out.
Freaked-out was on low-frequency only because I knew it was more likely lonely than stalker. But he waited for me (again) for 4 hours?
We walked my friend to her tube stop and said goodnight. Finn was going to escort me back to my stop, but then asked if I would come home with him.
I figured, why not. I am on the fence about Finn and having sex would tell me if this was going to be worth pursuing or not.
We talked a bit about sex on that ride home and he told me he was kinky. I asked him to describe kinky to me and he sort of almost blushed and bent his head down, like it was silly talk. Red flag. He said gentle spanking and hair pulling and rough sex. Now, while I have already fooled around a bit with him, I can’t see this, so I am intrigued. Finn is about as gentle as they come, out of bed. Sweet, loving and affectionate. If I was going to get a nice surprise in bed, maybe I would hang around a bit longer.
I could see he had an image of himself in his head sexually, but it wasn’t quite reconciling to his physical actions.
I did ask him if he enjoyed blow jobs and he was so thrilled he lit up like a light bulb. I suggested that while I loved blow jobs, I didn’t like hair at all and that would be a deterrent for me. He immediately told me he wasn’t attached to it and that was the end of the conversation.
We get home and we are both starving so we whip up some quick egg sandwiches. I notice his apartment is a bit dirty and disorganized. Ok, this isn’t what I am here for, so I ignore it.
We fall into bed and start fooling around.
It all went downhill after that.
I don’t know exactly what I can say about it. There was no connection, no passion. It was all hot and heavy breathing and nothing really coming from it for me. He didn’t know how to use his fingers properly and I guided him. Although he accepted direction, he didn’t follow it very well. He just didn’t seem to know his way around down there. This wasn’t the first time he went down on me, and maybe I had drunk less this time around and was paying more attention, but he just didn’t have any technique. In my frustration I rolled over so he could enter from behind.
This thrilled him that I offered myself up to him this way. He pounded away and I felt nothing. He was too fast with no other move than to go fast and hard. But his hard wasn’t much since he isn’t well endowed enough (don’t get me totally wrong, he’s not a bad size, but average doesn’t do it for me). I was soaking wet and had a hard time feeling him.
He came with a flourish and I was thankful it was over. We rolled over and passed out. He likes to spoon and I am not opposed to it.
When the morning came I started to realize there was the expectation of morning sex. I thought, perhaps, in the daylight, with a little less excitement, he might prove to be a better slow lover. He had gotten up and put the coffee on and crawled back into bed with me. For one of the very, very few times in my life, I couldn’t get wet. And he didn’t seem to know to use his fingers and spit to help us along. He slid down my body to go down on me again, but I couldn’t manage this and took one for the team…I pulled him close and sucked his cock to wetness, trying to avoid the hair.
I know this all sounds horrible as I’m writing it, but it went relatively fast and I like Finn. He was very good to me and I enjoyed the first time we fooled around in my home.
But there were other factors at play this morning. His apartment had dust bunnies everywhere the size of my head, no lie. There was an odd smell which I now associated to his clothing and bed sheets (I had smelled it before, but he had also showered in my home and slept in my bed, so my scent was more prevalent than his). I didn’t feel clean and I didn’t like the feeling. Upon thinking about it, I have only ever been in maybe 2 other men’s apartments and they were both spotless. Even the smokers apartment smelled clean and fresh. Also, I spotted a massive mole on his back with really long hairs growing out of it. Oh Geez. How do these crazy thoughts get into your head when you are trying to have sex? And then sit there on you like a ton of bricks refusing to go away?
Well, we eventually had sex and this was the last straw. Poor Finn. He almost had a heart attack. He pummeled me so hard and so fast that I couldn’t even match his rhythm. and was forced to lie still. The flashback of my very first boyfriend at 16 and how fast he would fuck me (for hours) suddenly popped into my head and I had to hold back a laugh. Finn was going to town and working up a sweat while I laid there. I tried my best to angle my hips to get some sensation, but to no avail. He seemed as though he was about to cum when suddenly he was gasping for air and rolling off.
I swear, he almost had a heart attack.
Can you imagine?
Finn is slim with a runner’s taut body. But I want a man, a big man to hang on to. I didn’t like how we felt together. Combined with the dust bunnies, the speed pound and the smell….I knew this was over.
God bless, once he caught his breath, he jumped up with a massive smile, grabbed coffee for us both and jumped in the shower. I got dressed and waited. He walked out of his building holding my hand and grinning ear to ear.
We parted sweetly with a kiss.
Luckily, Finn is a decent but not provocative communicator, checks in every day a bit and doesn’t expect lengthy text conversation…this gives me a small space of reprieve before I have to tell him this isn’t going to work between us.
It’s not you, it’s me, Finn.
It’s me because my head isn’t in it with you, and now my body isn’t either. I was going to give it a try to see if we could take dating a bit slowly since you are such an amazingly kind and wonderful man, but I can’t. I just can’t.
I know I can’t. Being away from him for a few days puts the little glimmer of hope back, but I can’t allow his kindness to overshadow the horrible sex and the stalker like tendencies.
Time to say goodbye to Finn.