He favorited me on Plenty of Fish and then didn’t message me. I figured (hoped) it was simply a matter of time. He is a handsome, dark-skinned, 6’2″ finance professional with an MBA. He is separated with a young daughter, has lived in multiple cities, went to college on a sports scholarship, and likes to dance.
While I wanted to reach out to him, I stuck to my rules and didn’t message him.
Then late last week, he reached out. He was bold and polite – commenting on my profile and asking if he could take me for a drink. I said I would love to but was visiting a girlfriend for the weekend.
Will asked if he could have Liam on Monday night. So I first offered Monday to someone I have yet to meet in person (a very sweet teacher from POF), but he wasn’t available. I then asked Mr Fetlife, but he had to work. I therefore planned to actually get some non dating things done that night.
And then he asked if I was free. YES. I explained I was unexpectedly free and would love to meet for a drink. Our date was on for 8pm and we confirmed by text.
Ever see someone for the first time and your heart starts to beat faster?
It was a good conversation with banter, varied topics, laughs, and curiosity about one another. We have some extended business connections which makes things interesting. It’s not that we are in the same circles but i’m pretty sure on LinkedIn we’d have a lot of common connections. He has an interesting life story – went from not having a lot, under pretty bad life circumstances, to going to a top business school for an MBA.
I like his drive and ambition, but just like me, he doesn’t seem to take himself all that seriously. He’s soft-spoken but obviously confident. He wasn’t the epitome of the “big swinging dick” (google “Liar’s Poker” if you don’t know the reference), but he could have been. And that was probably one of the most appealing things.
Physically, there is something about him that makes my stomach do little flip flops. At times, while desperately trying to focus on something he was saying, I found myself looking at the bicep under his suit jacket, or looking at his incredibly long fingers and thinking…well…very dirty things.
And then, when a song would come on that he liked and he would do a little move sitting down, thereby giving me the insight that he has rhythm, those thoughts positively raced.
But, in the two-and-a-half hours we talked over drinks, I did a good job of thinking less about his physical attributes and more about what he was saying. I don’t generally treat dates like job interviews, but ever since writing my “rules” and going to therapy and talking about how to spot the bad behaviors that are catnip because they are familiar…I confess I do have an even stronger internal dialogue about how a man measures up.
This one? Pretty damn well. There were no red flags, and lots of bonuses.
It was getting late and it was a work night. He expressed surprise when he learned how much time had passed – always a good sign. He had a crossfit class at 6:30am (bonus!) so we decided to head out. He paid.
While there had been some drizzling rain off and on, the moment we left the bar it started to pour. He popped open his umbrella and I got a chance to walk closely to him down the street. He held the umbrella in the hand he had around my back. I could feel the heat radiating off his body and I really wanted to touch him.
Laughing, I commented I may need to remove my patent leather wedge heels to make a mad dash home. I was about a 60 second walk from my front door, and he a 5 minute walk. I asked if we could pop under the awning of a nearby store before I, with no umbrella, had to make a run for it.
We paused, I looked up at him, and he gave me a kiss on either cheek. The rain was dripping down my back, and when I made mention of it – happily (I love warm summer rain) he adjusted the umbrella so that his right hand was free. When I thanked him, he said it was just an excuse to do “this”…meaning putting his warm, very large hand between my bare shoulder blades.
I was wearing a black cotton halter dress so my upper back and shoulders were bare. His hand, rubbing my back, felt very good. I wanted to kiss him again, and it was still pouring, so I said “can we stay here for just a minute to see if the rain subsides, before I have to run home? And anyway, I want to kiss you again”.
He instantly put his mouth on mine. Our tongues soon found one another and danced in that amazing way they can. His hand pulled me close to him, holding me tight. He is very strong. I wrapped my hand around his bicep, later slipping it under his suit jacket.
His one free hand roamed, down my side and onto my ass, giving it a squeeze. I didn’t mind. We would stop kissing and then immediately start again. It was really, really, hot. I lost all perception of anyone in the vicinity.
There was only the kiss.
And it was completely mutual.
I have no idea how long we stood at that corner, kissing. At one point, we broke apart and he hummed “mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm” and I asked what did that mean? He laughed and said it was all good.
I lost my composure and told him I wanted to see him again. He responded in kind. The rain had subsided. He wished me safely home and I told him I would be there in 45 seconds and would text him to let him know.
A minute later, I sent “…and I’m home. Thank you for the drinks and great company. Really look forward to seeing you again.”
I checked my mail, got some water, made a snack, and went upstairs to get ready for bed. There was no text. I brushed my teeth thinking two parallel thoughts: please I hope he texts me back and don’t get ahead of yourself you dumbass.
Walking back to my bedroom and grabbing my phone, I said a little prayer…