The rush of meeting someone new and experiencing those tingling feelings led me to become slightly addicted to Tinder. The swiping, the flirting, the validation—it’s a pretty amazing rush. It should be no surprise that it didn’t take me too long to find someone else after the success of Tinder Man. Mr. Complacent (MC) was not my type at all; if I had known more, I probably wouldn’t have slept with him. But hey, they can’t all be winners, right? MC wasn’t the worst, but I feel I learned a valuable lesson from it (spoilers!)
MC was blunt; he wanted sex, and wanted it at his convenience. At the time, I had family in town (unexpected I might add), and I had to make excuses to get away. Being a Friday (and my birthday week), my boss let me leave a bit early on Friday. MC and I had been texting for a few days; nothing serious, just him trying to get into my pants. I told him I could leave work a little early and swing by before he had plans that evening. Mr. Complacent was the WORST at responding to texts; he told me to text when I was close by. I did; he didn’t respond. I sat outside what I thought was his place for about 10 minutes before he called me. MC gave me instructions to pull around back of this fourplex, the rocky road killed my poor baby car’s undercarriage a tad. He was standing outside when I pulled up. While still on the phone with him, I told him it would take me a minute to get my stuff together (purse hidden, just keys in hand because hey…Catherine learned her lesson.) From first glances, Mr. Complacent was super disheveled; the man needed to either use his stubble growing pictures, or say he had facial hair. He was incredibly thin (not athletic at all), light skinned, dark hair, and dark colored eyes. When I got out of the car, I guess he wasn’t expecting me to be…me? I don’t hide on my pictures that I’m fluffy; I own that shit. He literally did a double take at me. I’ve never felt so awkward in my life. MC walked into his place and came back out, noticing I hadn’t really moved. He motioned me to come up, pointing to the stairs. I was horny and I was already there, might as well go through the motions for the day, and be away from unwanted family.
MC’s place was cluttered; there was an empty dog kennel, papers everywhere…the makings of a hoarder, I tell you! Before sitting down, he stood next to me and noticed he was shorter than me. He had to stand on his tippy toes to be taller than me. Granted, I was in some taller shoes, but I was overall taller than him (mental note was made to add my height into my profile because being taller than men is weird to me on so many levels.) I giggled awkwardly before sliding out of my shoes that make me taller ( I was wearing classy hello kitty socks that day. I am secretly 16 mentally); I just brushed off the height by saying, most men are shorter than me. MC replied to this, At least I’ll be on top in bed. Well ok then!
We awkwardly talked on his couch; I learned he was some sort of broker, and worked later hours. He suggested we go to his bedroom; of course I agreed. While MC led me there, I noticed his interesting artwork; not weird interesting, but genuinely cool. Cool enough that I’d hang them up in my place. But I digress. As mentioned earlier, I was horny and just wanted to get this show on the road. Mr. Complacent took his shirt off, so I did the same before my hands decided to undo his pants and then almost in a somewhat graceful and fluid motion I was on my knees. I really don’t know how I didn’t hurt myself since he had wooden floors, but hey, sometimes I surprise myself. His penis was decently sized; from his moans, he was incredibly surprised at my oral skills. After a few minutes (or long enough that my knees hurt), I stopped, much to his disappointment. He finished taking his pants off before it clicked that I needed to play catch up. I tossed my bra, and the remainder of my clothes (minus my hello kitty socks) and then I noticed that he had white sheets. Besides hotels, no one needs white sheets. No. One.
He told me to lay down, I obliged his request. I thought he was going to go down on me; how wrong I was. MC played with Catherine, commenting on how wet I was, but only with his fingers, and not in a good way. He was actually looking off in the distance. Me being me, I just looked at him and made random moans while slightly shaking my head. After a few of my eye rolls, I tried to just relax. I was enjoying it well enough, with my eyes closed so I wasn’t looking at him. I should have paid more attention to what he was doing because all of a sudden he was inside of me, which was great. He didn’t take that long until he decided to have a conversation:
MC: Where can I cum?
DV: *not really thinking or caring* I don’t care, wherever.
MC: *slowing down a bit* So I can cum in you?
DV: *clearly thinking he had put a condom on* Sure, I don’t care.
MC: Hmmm…But why?
DV: *giving him a look* Does it matter..?
MC: I don’t want to get you pregnant.
So, this is where I lose it internally; do people still think that the pull out method works? Because, it doesn’t. Thank god I have amazing birth control. So, now that it dawned on me that he wasn’t wearing a condom, I told him to just finish wherever he wanted. He decided to finish on my stomach. When he was done, he told me not to move so he could get something to clean the cum off. He disappeared into I guess his bathroom and brought me a damp towel (from his earlier shower I was hoping), threw it to me and I tried my best to wipe myself off.
I put my clothes on fairly quickly and got out of there without too much small talk. I didn’t text him at all; I figured after his double take that I was an in the moment fuck. A few months later, as I was driving into work, Mr. Complacent called me. I didn’t have his number saved or anything, so it caught me off guard. I didn’t want to see him again; long story short, he gave me my favorite std. Thanks, MC, thanks.
Lesson learned: Take condoms and see them being put on.
The Daring Vagina