Alas there is always one bad date that is used to measure each and every bad date that comes after it. Even if it’s eventually surpassed, it’s still used as a point on the scale for comparison.
It becomes legend.
I had that date a while back and feel it only fair to share it with you here.
SCUBA-man. Sounds like an action hero but trust me I was the one responsible for the heroics that night.
We’d gone out for a few dates and things were going along quite nicely. We had a lot to talk about and he was a great kisser. So when he invited me over to his place to watch a movie I understood that we’d probably ignore the movie.
Well I was almost right.
He pressed play and we responsed faster than the DVD. Kisses, nibbles, shirts off, his first then mine – the rest of our clothes followed.
Like most guys, trying to impress during the first time, he headed south (alas, this seems to be the only time they do it voluntarily, no matter how much they profess to love it). I was eager and ready, not wanting to miss a minute of this rare event.
He adjusted me to get a better angle and just as he was going in, he stopped, took a huge breath, then dove.
Puzzled, I looked at the top of his head. “Did he just…?”
After ten wonderful seconds, he raised his head, gasped in a breath, gave me a huge ‘aren’t-I-great-grin’, took another breath and dove again. Ten more seconds of bliss coupled with thought of what the hell is he doing?
By the third down, his face was almost purple and I was staring at the movie, hoping for something to happen on the screen to halt the giggle fit that was about to happen. I cannot lie, it took super-human effort.
Apparently, he took the body-shakes, from me trying to surpress my laughter, as a sure sign of pending orgasm. One last dive to finish me off and he was done.
Trust me – he was finished.
