I had three first dates three days in a row last week. The first was the Accountant, the second was the check box man, and the third was, well… Mr Fetlife. I’m not sure I want to give them names unless we go on a second date.
Mr Fetlife reached out to me on Fetlife (obviously) shortly after I reactivated my profile during my three week break from Tony. The Saturday morning where I thought life was once again full of rainbows and unicorns, and Tony was going to finally make the effort I needed, I went onto Fetlife, changed my profile status from “single” to “in a relationship”, and updated my description to state I wasn’t looking to play alone, but perhaps I would explore with my partner.
As you know by now, that was short lived. In that happy time span however, I had told Mr Fetlife I was now off them market. And then I humbly told him I was back on the market.
Mr Fetlife is single and kinky. He works in construction, is 6 feet tall, and swarthy. He’s had long term relationships but never been married. He’s polite, consistent, and funny. He has no kids. He’s looking for a relationship.
I established the latter before we moved our conversations to text. I told him I wasn’t going to talk much about sex with him before we actually met each other, but he did want to know a little bit more about what I liked and didn’t like. Fair enough. There is quite the difference between a practical discussion of spanking versus sexting about wanting to be spanked. Per my rules, I’m not going to sext with someone before I meet them.
We had some challenges finding a time to meet, and a couple of false starts. Just when I was starting to wonder whether it was ever going to happen, I had plans change with a girlfriend and found myself available to meet one evening. Mr Tinder and I set a time and a place.
One of the jokes my girlfriends have made about pretty much every man I’ve dated is they are all bald. I never knew I had a type. Tony had hair but it as receding so he, like the others, shaved his head bald or very short. For whatever reason, this batch of guys all has their hair. It will be nice to have something to grab on to.
Mr F arrived shortly before I did and was nursing a beer when I arrived. There was a spark – he had a twinkle in his eye and the conversation flowed very smoothly. I can’t even recall all of the topics we covered – but we talked about everything from sexual predilections (and I was hyper aware of the couple having the date at the table next to us) to a shared favourite vacation spot, to why he likes to operate heavy machinery.
I found myself wondering how it would be to kiss him. He has what can only be described as very sensual lips. His hair is full and tinged with gray.
Before I knew it, hours had passed. It was time for me to go. I asked if he would drive me to where I had to get transit back home. I was impressed with how clean his truck was. And as we sat in his car I realized I didn’t want to just get out of the car. I told him he had amazing lips – he laughed and said he’d heard that before. Then he leaned forward, but his hand on the back of my neck, and kissed me.
It was a good kiss. It wasn’t the best first kiss (that award still goes to Ariel), but it was good. We kissed again. I told him I liked it. Then he grabbed the hair, close to my scalp, kissed me again, and asked me how I liked that. Yes. That.
I hopped out the car, but not before telling him I wanted to see him again. He responded in kind and said he wanted to take me for dinner. Excellent.
Unlike the last two dates, I had that warm feeling on my way home. I’m sure part of it was because there was physical contact. Maybe all of it was. But there was a chemistry there that the others lacked. It doesn’t mean I won’t give them another try (although I’m waffling on the Accountant) , but I would be actively disappointed if Mr F and I can’t get together again. I’m hoping to be able to run my fingers through his hair, as I…. hmm…. better not get ahead of myself.