As I told you already, I redownloaded Tinder again briefly Thursday, July 7. It was about 9:30pm. Well within a half hour, I had a dozen matches, and several messages. One guy in particular held pretty good conversation, at least played along with my banter. I tend to dissect what people say and twist their words in a playful manner to start a flirtatious argument.
For the sake of this blog, he doesn’t need a name. He was a blip in my sexual life, so this guy will only be known as Tinder Douche. Well Tinder Douche started out fun and light via messaging. At one point, he said he’s not looking to date, so I jokingly told him, “I completely understand, I’m on here for strictly platonic friends too.” He was terrible on his defense, and said “No, I’m just not looking to date, but I also don’t want a one night stand.” So basically, he was passive aggressively trying to see if I would be down for a casual sex/fuck buddy type thing. I responded with, “Are you sure you aren’t telling me you aren’t looking for a one night stand so I let my guard down and fuck you the first time we meet? I’ve got my eye on you.”
I thought it was funny how hard he tried to say he wasn’t looking for a one night stand, but he also wouldn’t admit to wanting a fuck buddy, but also said he didn’t want to date. He was getting so worked up every time I twisted what he said. He eventually ended it with, “I like your style. You can really talk some shit.” Our flirtatious messaging went on until about 11:15pm when he messaged saying “Instead of messaging for the entire hour, we could have met up.” I shot it back at him, “Well isn’t it past your bedtime?” He quickly responded to tell me he could stay up till 3am tonight. I agreed to meet up with him for drinks at a bar near me. I told him to text when he got close.
He texted when he was parking. I walked down and saw him by his car. We went into the bar, he ordered a beer and I got my usual, Jameson Mule. He seemed nice, a little bit bro-y, but not too much to send me running out the door. Aside from being nice with a dash of bro, nothing really stood out to me. We were at the bar for a little over an hour when they started last call.
Tinder Douche said he still had two hours before he needed to go to bed, so he’s open to going somewhere else. Being that I lived a few buildings over, I offered my place because I have a bar and rooftop. He declined because he didn’t want any chance of my roommates being around. He then offered his place and promised he would give me a ride home at 3am. I agreed and we drove to his.
We went to his kitchen, he poured us each a drink and we continued to talk. I noticed right away that his kitchen wasn’t your typical 24-year-old boys’ kitchen. It was pretty clean. The entire apartment was clean. He also told me how he knows how to cook. I was impressed.
Although he wasn’t my type romantically (he’s a bit too white suburban bro), he was still cute, nice, and had some redeeming qualities. At the moment, I was intrigued. I could see him being a good lay, but I’m unsure of how far I would take it or how long he’d be in the picture because he definitely isn’t my type.
After we both finished our drinks, he suggested that we could watch a movie or something in his room. I laughed, no one really watches a movie when they’re hanging out with a guy from Tinder. They don’t call it Netflix and chill because people actually watch movies. I was hesitant, but intrigued enough, so I agreed.
We went to his room and sat on his bed. He started scrolling through the TV guide and found a movie on HBO. We sat back, talked briefly, but he went quickly in to kiss me. His kisses were surprisingly full for a guy with thin lips, but being that his lips weren’t the fullest and his facial hair was well past a 5 o’clock shadow, it was nearly like having sandpaper rubbing against my face. Not fun. I pulled back and told him to be careful, he got the picture and kissed me lighter.
As things picked up, it got a bit more hot and heavy. He kissed down my neck and unzipped my jeans, pulling them off as he continued to kiss me. He then lifted my shirt off and unclipped my bra. He was pretty slick with his maneuvers, I’ll give him that. He reached down with his hand, and massaged my clit. I was in clit tease heaven at this point. Not many guys can get the right pressure on my clit that quick, but he managed to do so.
Prior to this, there had been no discussion of our kinks or desires. He either had the exact same sex style as me, or he knew exactly how to read my body as I reacted to whatever he was doing. He nailed the pressure on my clit. Then he went in to my nipples, started gently rubbing them with his fingers, then built up the pressure into some squeezing and pinching, then went in and bit my nipples. I never told him I like my nipples bit, but he figured it out anyways. It was hot.
Soon enough, his magic on my clit and nipples had me worked up. He had me soaking wet. He knew I couldn’t resist at this point, he looked at me wanting me to want him. I paused, I was so turned on at this point, so fuck it. I told him to grab a condom and we fucked hard. I wasn’t expecting him to pull my hair the way I liked it, or to pin me down and restrain me, or to rub my clit or bite my nipples the way he did as we fucked…. but he did it pretty damn well. Some guys just fuck me the way I want it; he surprised me, nothing stood out earlier in the night, but he sure can fuck.
He came. I didn’t. He got me so close to cumming, but alas, something about the first time rarely gets me there. I have a wall up that has to be penetrated before I trust a guy to show him how vulnerable I can be and unleash my orgasm. As we laid there naked for a few minutes, I saw the time. 3:20am. I told him it was past his bedtime and he should give me a ride home.
Once he dropped me off, I walked up my four flights of stairs, got ready for bed, and passed the fuck out. He was fun, if only I kept it at just one night, he might have not gotten the name Tinder Douche.