Date Night…

If you follow me on Facebook, you’ll know I joined Tinder a few weeks ago. You all know I love a good fuck, but for some reason Tinder really turned me off.

But I did it. I joined. Swiping in all directions for the men of Atlanta. And oh boy, there are a lot of men in Atlanta.

Very long story shortened, I agreed to meet one of these fuckers at Burger King. What is it with me and Burger King? This was daylight, at least, so no blowjobs. He’s attractive in his profile and via texting, ┬ábut he hasn’t smiled, so I didn’t know.

I didn’t fucking know.

https://giphy.com/embed/3o6Zti5eheDfoNxYQMvia GIPHY

I pull up in my cute little Jeep and wave to him, only to have him smile back and reveal he doesn’t have teeth!

Not whole ones, anyway.

Broken and rotted, most of this front teeth missing, and the top two only shards of what had been there before.

https://giphy.com/embed/3o6Ztl7oraKm4ZJ9mwvia GIPHY

Yeah, I’m a shallow bitch. A guy has to have teeth. All I could think about was he’d texted about wanting to eat me and bite me and ow…the slither of broken tooth would surely hurt like fuck. I seriously contemplate leaving. Neither of us have gotten out of our vehicles yet, so there was minimal chance of running him over in my haste.

He rolled down the window. Tried to flirt. Got in my passenger seat to speak. Asked me to touch his dick (I said no), asked me to kiss him (I said no), and asked for a hug (I said no).

Never again will I meet a guy who hasn’t smiled in any pics. It should have been a sign. A warning. Something.

Advertisements

Midget Man Reeks of Desperation

Y’all, I went on a date last weekend and I’m still recovering. And not recovering because it was crazy good and I’m in a lust induced high. No, I’m recovering from all the bad and awkward moments.

A little background. I started talking to Midget Man a couple of months ago. He was funny and intelligent. He also said he was six inches higher than he really was. Now, I’m not that shallow. I’ve dated men shorter than me. The problem was he was tiny. Petite. Small.

He looked like a nine year old boy.

A girl needs a little warning. Especially when said girl is close to six feet tall. And wearing heels on the date.

Anyway, after I got over the initial shock and came to terms with the fact that I looked like I was babysitting, the date went ok. We ate, we watched a movie. It was fun. He made me laugh.

Then we went to the bar and I had mai tais. That’s when everything took a turn for the worse. He kissed me and I didn’t push him away. We went to the hotel across from the bar and one thing lead to another…

I had sex with Midget Man. And almost smothered him to death with my boobs.

It was terrifying. Would I have went to jail for that? How would I have explained that to the 911 operator? “Hello, yes, the man I was having sex with quit breathing because I was riding his semi-small dick and was trying to make it feel good. I didn’t realize his noises were actually screams until he quit moving.”

I mean…no. That wouldn’t have worked at all. I’m far too young to end up in jail.

Anyway. It happened. It was over. I went home the next morning and decided I would chalk it up to a one-night stand and that be that.

He had different ideas. Like a relationship. And incessant texting and calling. And video chatting.

He asked me to move in.

TO. MOVE. IN.

Two months of talking, one date, and not very good sex and the boy is ready to have me be his girlfriend.

I told him he reeks of desperation and good luck finding someone who would date his crazy ass. Cause it definitely wouldn’t be me.