Soundtrack: Let’s Go by Calvin Harris feat. Ne-Yo.
I don’t really know where to start here, but I can tell you one thing for absolute definite: I am most definitely wearing fuck-tinted spectacles as far as Jock is concerned. It’s time for the third date (dick) analysis, folks… and I don’t think it’s going to go quite as you think.
The Mistake
So… yeah, the morning after the night before things got a little frisky, as you’d probably expect; however, neither of us thought about the condom. It didn’t enter my mind. I’m guessing that it didn’t enter his. I’m on the pill and all, but I think it’s for the best that I get myself off to the clinic in a few days – don’t you? Perhaps I can even encourage him to do the same, then we can fuck with reckless abandon.
Oh, I really want that now.
Anyway, let’s get to the good bits.
The Dick
I was super excited to unwrap him like a Christmas present. I was the tiniest bit disappointed when I discovered that I was unwrapping something on the slightly smaller side. Not tiny or anything. Nowhere near as small as The Actor… and definitely nowhere near Prison Guy. (Thank fuck.)
I just… assumed it would be bigger. I’m like the big dick whisperer. Somehow, as if by magic, I always date the guys with bigger-than-average dicks. It’s like, a talent… or something. But Jock doesn’t fit that category. He doesn’t really have length or girth going for him, but he sure as hell makes up for it with enthusiasm and finger/mouth action. (Thank fuck.)
He’s a super attentive lover, and he paid a lot more attention to me than I thought he was going to. Again, it must be the older guy thing. Either way, I am most definitely here for it.
I don’t exactly have any dick complaints. There’s nothing for me to complain about, because I left the date feeling satisfied. He made me come. Three times. It was heavenly. Does it really matter how I get there, as long as I get there?
“Sex isn’t all that important to me, to be honest,” he told me, the morning after the night before. “Pleasuring you is very important, but it doesn’t have to be sex.”
I wasn’t really sure how to take that. I mean, that’s not exactly the kind of thing you want to hear right after you’ve slept with someone for the first time, is it?
Yeah, so, thanks for the fuck… but fucking isn’t really my thing.
Huh?!
We’ll come back to this in the future, I guess. (Without a doubt, because what the fuck?)
The Date
The date, all in all, was incredible. Perfect. I know that fucking someone for the first time in a tent, in the middle of an abandoned field, in the rain, isn’t everyone’s cup of tea; but I absolutely adored it. Jock went to a lot of effort, and it was very much appreciated. As if all third dates (or any dates) could be that fun, easy, and seemingly uncomplicated.
“There’s definitely something here, isn’t there?” he asked me, and the words made my stomach flip.
“Yes, I think so,” I nodded, trying really hard not to grin my whole face off.
Truth be told, though, I was ecstatic. Those were the words I wanted to hear. Yes, we have something. Yes, we both feel it. Fuck, yes, we’re going to see each other again.
I know it’s early. Three dates, no matter how long they are, do not a relationship make, do they? There’s still plenty of time for things to go wrong, for us to find things that we despise about each other, for one or both of us to fuck things up spectacularly. It’s not like I don’t have a habit of doing that.
I miss him already.
I miss the sex in a tent.
I think I’ve got it bad, you guys.
The next blog post in the dating timeline is this one: The Zoo.
Thank you so much for reading my blog today! 🖤
Would you like to read all about Jock’s story, right from the very beginning? You’ll find that right here.
You can also read all about my disastrous dating history, right from the beginning, right here: Table of Dating Contents.
Alternatively, why not have a little peek around here:
