Money Can't Buy My Yes
Aaron was adorable. I can't even pretend to deny that. He was cute, pert, sandy blonde and blue-eyed with a megawatt smile that any girl would love. He was like Stephen Baldwin, but cuter. He was intelligent and funny and damned if he wasn't charismatic. We talked a little online and he professed his hatred for the website, so we took it offline pretty quickly and we really seemed to hit it off. He was an accountant (boy am I developing a type here) and seemed to have all of his ducks in a row.
I should have seen the red flag when his idea of a date was taking me for a walk with his dog and then dinner at his place. I should have put the brakes on right then, but I have a problem with always thinking the best of people, and I sometimes get burned as a result.
So, after this ridiculous date idea, he threw out another bomb. He seriously asked me if I was a man. You read that correctly, ladies and gentleman, he asked me if I was a man. I am not a man, I have never been a man and I don't want to be a man. For the record, there are people out there that were born men who are prettier than I will ever be, but the fact remains: not a man. He asked me to send him a picture and I'm going to quote here "that shows off your feminine side". Folks, all of my sides are feminine. I'm tall, but I'm also curvy and round in all the places that men are not. And I gave birth to another person. That should be an indicator, right there. Well, I sent him a full-body shot, luscious legs in a tiny black dress and shoes so high they should be illegal. I drew the line right there, though. I don't know you, I'm not sending you ammunition that you could use to humiliate me later.
We talked for about a week, texting back and forth, like dating is these days. It turned out that we had some interesting bedroom proclivities in common and that alone is kind of atypical. So, there was a mental connection as well as that chemistry and spark right from the outset.
Aaron was one of those guys. You know the ones, spoiled, pampered, well-traveled, rich and unaccustomed to being told "no" by anyone, especially a woman of a lower socioeconomic class. Oh yes, people here in the south still think this way.
I didn't listen to my instincts again, but I did have the good sense to go armed. So, I arrive at his townhome in a neighborhood that I'll never be able to live in, with it's attached garage, three stories and wrought iron railings. I still wonder if his parents paid for that place or if he did.
He met me at his front door with his dog. And I have to maintain that his dog was the best thing about him. A big, slobbery, childlike chocolate lab with a silly people name. He hugged me and it was pleasant. Good lord, he smelled expensive! Like bay rum and peppermint. That sort of thing leaves an impression in a girl for a good, long time. Of course, his flaws jumped out pretty quickly.
He was born abroad and his family traveled the world with him, giving him stories to tell and the ability to talk about wealth like it was an irrelevant fact of life. I will never understand that mentality, but I certainly appreciate it when juxtaposed with the nuevo riche. So we kind of just sat around talking about travel and how so few people do it and even fewer of those are truly interested in travel for recreation. Look, we have something in common! We never did manage to either get that walk in or get the dog walked.
Then the boy kissed me. Damn, he was a good kisser. His lips were like peppermint pillows and he slipped his right hand behind my neck and did that irresistible thing where he cradled the back of my head as he deepened the kiss. He effectively scrambled my brain pretty rapidly. Nicely done, Aaron.
Of course, then things just went downhill. Apparently, if a woman responds positively to a very good kiss, she must really want to have sex with you immediately. Well, that wasn't my intent at all, especially after laying out that sex on a first date is a tragically bad idea. I'm not saying that I didn't want to, I just wanted to wait long enough to make sure that I really liked him.
That was apparently the wrong answer. He slipped directly into questioning everything from my sexuality all the way to my warmth. Let me tell you, no man has ever called me frigid with a straight face. It was a manipulation tactic and that sort of thing never really works on anyone with more than three brain cells. I'm surprised he thought it would be effective on me.
Well, I let him go on kissing me for another good solid hour before I realized it really was time for me to go home. There's a point when your saying no and staying is really just being a cock tease. And he was a truly phenomenal kisser. I was being completely selfish when I didn't leave. He was more the whiny type and less the predator type, so I was never afraid for my safety.
I think what really surprised me was that his tactic for getting me to have sex with him must have worked for him in the past. Women must have actually fallen for that shit. What is wrong with our society that our refusal to have sex with a man on first date makes us "asexual" or even not openly sexual as women? That crazy dichotomy between slut and tease, between tramp and ice bitch, pisses me right off.
We kind of talked on and off after that night, but we never saw each other again. I mean, I'm fine with that because he clearly didn't value me as a human being in the first place, but it still would have been nice to go on kissing him for days...
Next week, read about the South American artist...
I should have seen the red flag when his idea of a date was taking me for a walk with his dog and then dinner at his place. I should have put the brakes on right then, but I have a problem with always thinking the best of people, and I sometimes get burned as a result.
So, after this ridiculous date idea, he threw out another bomb. He seriously asked me if I was a man. You read that correctly, ladies and gentleman, he asked me if I was a man. I am not a man, I have never been a man and I don't want to be a man. For the record, there are people out there that were born men who are prettier than I will ever be, but the fact remains: not a man. He asked me to send him a picture and I'm going to quote here "that shows off your feminine side". Folks, all of my sides are feminine. I'm tall, but I'm also curvy and round in all the places that men are not. And I gave birth to another person. That should be an indicator, right there. Well, I sent him a full-body shot, luscious legs in a tiny black dress and shoes so high they should be illegal. I drew the line right there, though. I don't know you, I'm not sending you ammunition that you could use to humiliate me later.
We talked for about a week, texting back and forth, like dating is these days. It turned out that we had some interesting bedroom proclivities in common and that alone is kind of atypical. So, there was a mental connection as well as that chemistry and spark right from the outset.
Aaron was one of those guys. You know the ones, spoiled, pampered, well-traveled, rich and unaccustomed to being told "no" by anyone, especially a woman of a lower socioeconomic class. Oh yes, people here in the south still think this way.
I didn't listen to my instincts again, but I did have the good sense to go armed. So, I arrive at his townhome in a neighborhood that I'll never be able to live in, with it's attached garage, three stories and wrought iron railings. I still wonder if his parents paid for that place or if he did.
He met me at his front door with his dog. And I have to maintain that his dog was the best thing about him. A big, slobbery, childlike chocolate lab with a silly people name. He hugged me and it was pleasant. Good lord, he smelled expensive! Like bay rum and peppermint. That sort of thing leaves an impression in a girl for a good, long time. Of course, his flaws jumped out pretty quickly.
He was born abroad and his family traveled the world with him, giving him stories to tell and the ability to talk about wealth like it was an irrelevant fact of life. I will never understand that mentality, but I certainly appreciate it when juxtaposed with the nuevo riche. So we kind of just sat around talking about travel and how so few people do it and even fewer of those are truly interested in travel for recreation. Look, we have something in common! We never did manage to either get that walk in or get the dog walked.
Then the boy kissed me. Damn, he was a good kisser. His lips were like peppermint pillows and he slipped his right hand behind my neck and did that irresistible thing where he cradled the back of my head as he deepened the kiss. He effectively scrambled my brain pretty rapidly. Nicely done, Aaron.
Of course, then things just went downhill. Apparently, if a woman responds positively to a very good kiss, she must really want to have sex with you immediately. Well, that wasn't my intent at all, especially after laying out that sex on a first date is a tragically bad idea. I'm not saying that I didn't want to, I just wanted to wait long enough to make sure that I really liked him.
That was apparently the wrong answer. He slipped directly into questioning everything from my sexuality all the way to my warmth. Let me tell you, no man has ever called me frigid with a straight face. It was a manipulation tactic and that sort of thing never really works on anyone with more than three brain cells. I'm surprised he thought it would be effective on me.
Well, I let him go on kissing me for another good solid hour before I realized it really was time for me to go home. There's a point when your saying no and staying is really just being a cock tease. And he was a truly phenomenal kisser. I was being completely selfish when I didn't leave. He was more the whiny type and less the predator type, so I was never afraid for my safety.
I think what really surprised me was that his tactic for getting me to have sex with him must have worked for him in the past. Women must have actually fallen for that shit. What is wrong with our society that our refusal to have sex with a man on first date makes us "asexual" or even not openly sexual as women? That crazy dichotomy between slut and tease, between tramp and ice bitch, pisses me right off.
We kind of talked on and off after that night, but we never saw each other again. I mean, I'm fine with that because he clearly didn't value me as a human being in the first place, but it still would have been nice to go on kissing him for days...
Next week, read about the South American artist...
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