poeticdesires

the life and musings of a kinky slut

Dre

unreconcilably Dating Apps Lesson #1: Men lie on their profiles.

Dre was short.

This man had the gall to list himself as 5’9” when I was taller than him. And no, I was not in heals.

Dre was moderately attractive, solid 7/10. He was short and skinny and fit, and if I were three inches shorter it would’ve been great, but he was definitely not as attractive as his photos had me believe. He was nice when he met me outside his apartment building though, so I went up.

Dating Apps Lesson #2: If a guy invites you to his place, no matter what he says beforehand, he wants to fuck.

Dre said he just wanted to chill at his place tonight and sip some wine.

Dre really just wanted to fuck.

I didn’t want to fuck tonight. Now that I’ve jumped into dating apps again, I wanted to try something different. No fucking on the first date. Really get to know the person before we take our clothes off. Actually like each other first. Novel concept, I know.

Dre invited me over to his place tonight. I was nervous at first, but he was good at asking me questions and getting me to talk. I didn’t want to monopolize the conversation, so I redirected some of his inquiries back at him. He seemed thoughtful and intelligent enough, until I mentioned something I felt like he should know about.

Dre said he worked in IT, described his job a bit, what he does day-to-day and what his travel schedule was like both before and during COVID. When I asked him about the recent Russian SolarWinds hacking, he hadn’t even heard of it. Dre works in IT.

The intellectual snob in me did not approve.  You’re too picky, I thought to myself. Give him a real chance. But it wasn’t Dre’s brain that turned me off.

“Come sit closer.”

Dre and I chatted on his couch for about thirty minutes before he coaxed me to cuddle up next to him. He had Netflix on in the background; The Upshaws. [Side note: I love Wanda Sykes.] I slid over, leaned into him, and started watching the show.

After a bit, he asked if it was okay if he kissed me. “Yes, because you asked first.”

We kissed.

“You’re a good kisser,” Dre said.

“You too,” I lied.

Dre is okay at kissing, but he does this weird wiggling thing with his tongue that is annoying. I kept trying to avoid it by focusing on caressing his lower lip, but he was insistent. Eventually, I was able to end the kiss. My focus went back to cuddling up next to him while watching the TV show. He rested his right hand on my ass, then slid his hand under my leggings to grab my ass.

“I love leggings on a woman.”
“Why?”
“They make them look more feminine. You don’t wear underwear?”
“Not in leggings. They’re too tight.”
“Are you okay with me grabbing your ass.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”

I went back to watching the show.

Dre tilted my head back up for another kiss. Give him a chance. I was annoyed, but I went along with it. I thought he wanted to hold my left hand as we kissed. Instead, he slid my hand over his dick in his pants. I resisted touching it, pulling my hand away.

“You don’t want to touch it.”
“No, I don’t want to have sex tonight. I don’t fuck on the first date.”
“Okay.”

I went back to cuddling and watching the show, again.

“So, what do you like?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you like to do in bed?”

I paused for a really long time.

Finally, I said, “I’m gonna go.” And then I left.

Dre wasn’t mean, but I was annoyed and eventually uncomfortable.

“No sex” doesn’t mean head or a hand job as a consolation prize.

This wasn’t what I wanted for the evening, but they were lessons I needed to learn.

Men lie in their profiles. No first dates at guys’ apartments.

Check.


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