The first ‘date’

So I said that the first ‘date’ probably warranted its own post and it seemed the logical next thing to write about. The story of meeting P is a good example of what’s now quite typical in my life, but he was also the first person to really open my eyes after coming out of such a long relationship.

We chatted for about two weeks before arranging to meet, progressing from the dating ap, to exchanging numbers. It was clear from the outset that sex was very much on the agenda, but we also got on really well and made each other laugh, something that’s always been important to me for future play mates.

We’d arranged to meet up over the weekend but then during the week I was out with a friend after work drinking and he was at a beer festival and we decided to meet there and then. In hindsight, meeting someone for a first date when they’d spent all day sampling beer – was not my wisest ever move. As I waited for him to get off the tube I had that momentary flash of ‘god what if he thinks I’m really ugly’. This was the first date I’d been on with anyone new in 8 years.

The greeting was a little awkward but ok. We managed one drink in a bar before it was kicking out time, and whilst we chattted quite easily I still had no idea if he fancied me or not. With no where else to go, we ended up on a bench in one of those London garden parks (bit like the one in Notting Hill but this one was just off Ox Street).

Pretty soon after we sat down he kissed me and then I started to feel more relaxed. The kissing quickly led to some touching – fingering in both holes and a cheeky suck on him and by this point we both had the raging horn. Now I know some people would think it’s pretty disgusting to go from meeting a man to having him in your mouth within the space of an hour. It probably won’t help if I admit I’ve far exceeeded that record several times since. But in a future post I’ll explain why it’s possible for me to do this and have no qualms at all.

So with the raging horn and desperate to have sex, there were two options. One, we sneak into the park, which was now locked bar the bench we were sitting on just outside. Two, we find a hotel. Eventually, having both missed our last trains, we opted for option two, and then spent the next hour wandering up and down the streets of London trying to find somewhere at a reasonable price.

We ended up in a tiny little b&b which was pretty ropey by anyone’s standards (I never promised flowers and romance!). When we finally got to the room it was literally like wild animals, P is pretty blessed in the downstairs department and the sex was good. It was also new and exciting which is a thrill I hadn’t experienced for awhile.

He toook me pretty much every way I could think of, including anal which I hadn’t had a huge amount of experience with (especially on a first date) but I later found out he loved. The next morning we continued, despite his terrible hangover and I then had to do the walk of shame into work, stopping off at Tesco on the way to buy toothpaste and some shower gel so I could clean up at the offfice.

I remember thinking as I said good bye that I would probably never see or hear from him again. I think I just wanted to let myself down gently in case it happened. In reality I heard from him later that morning and we met up many more times although he made it pretty clear early on that it was just sex and friendship which was fine.

P is probably one of the most open minded people I’ve been with and during the 6 months or so that we played, we really pushed the boundaries. Water sports, s&m, role play, strap ons, subbing (not that 50 shades of grey nonsense either). He was also keen to explore his bi curious side, so we signed up with a couples profile on a well known sex site and started to chat to people. That is actually how I came to meet G and my now best friend M. But that’s a story for another day……

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