I’ve gone through the age spectrum in bed; just because you’re older doesn’t mean you are filled with experience. Young doesn’t mean you have to be taught what sex is. Same goes for looks; most men (and women) that know they’re hot really aren’t that good in bed because they don’t have to be that great. Moral: don’t judge a book by its cover. When it came to The Kid, I was pleasantly surprised–no, he wasn’t some 18 year old troll. I just wanted to have more to draw on than just his age with the book comparison.
Anyways, back to the weekend of stories.
8am came, so did the cable guy. Biggest victory of the weekend! I could watch the World Cup and watch all my bets falter (damn whores, fuck you Asian teams), but I could drink with my cat at 10am! So much success! I was obviously playing on Tinder, swiping all the directions, and making small talk with most of the matches, or waiting for them to reply. Needing and wanting a different group of male specimen, I changed my preferences to include 19-35 and upped the distance. I matched with a lot (more like a ton) of underage drinking boys that still only showed pictures from prom. Prom. I just, I don’t know what I was thinking when I swiped right on most of them. By this time, Tinder had introduced “Moments” to their feature. This allowed you to see how outdated many of these kids pictures were, or how little they cared about their facial hygiene/looks since those pictures were taken. They didn’t start off with real conversations, more like terrible pick up lines they heard from Tosh.0.
The Kid was different.
We had an actual conversation, which happened way less than normal for me (my profile did say I wanted a fwb, but I guess most men think that really means one night stands and wanted to get straight to the point.) Maybe I had been giving college kids a bad wrap up until then? Needless to say, The Kid wasn’t the average Tinder hook up personality wise; he used complete sentences, had ideas, talked about more than sex, and when we did talk about sex it wasn’t weird. So when I had the place to myself, I had no problem asking him to come over.
I’d asked The Kid his physical stats (since Tinder can’t clarify that with pictures (unless you’re real cool with a mug shot), and I’m fairly tall for my city) so I kinda knew what I was expecting when he showed up at my doorstep. The Kid was tall, white, dark blonde/light brown hair, and an average body. For someone that played golf in college, he wasn’t as athletic as I thought, but he wasn’t a defensive lineman either (so that’s something.)
The Kid was quiet. Not awkwardly quiet, but he had no problem with silence. The silence worked for me when we were just sitting back on the bed in the bedroom. He just lounged next to me on the bed, lights off with the tv on. Making the first move is always weird, and it was pretty damn weird with him. The foreplay was nonexistent; I gave him head, he slightly touched my vagina and commented on how I was wet. That was obviously a news flash to me; 900% sure I told him I get really wet,very easily. Getting to the application of a condom was also awkward.
While being with The Kid felt normal, sex felt…timid and shy. At least the first time.
Sex was quiet; he didn’t make any real noises and he didn’t cause me to. We had a couple rounds that night, and it was just mediocre sex with small breaks between; nothing fancy to cause me to write home about. His penis was average, in length and girth, and none of my fantasies or fetishes happened. It was just sex. No vibrator (I didn’t want to scare him off, though little did I know he would have been fine with it.) The thing to document is how we did sleep together a couple other times later on, and how I totally developed feelings for him. I’ve since learned from that experience and I’m better at being able to compartmentalize my likes and lustful feelings. If he wasn’t so nice to me outside of sex (I did make him cuddle with me, like I do almost every guy, and he wasn’t that annoyed by it), I probably wouldn’t have seen him again.
But hey, college athlete is ticked off the sucket list!
So once he said he couldn’t cum anymore, The Kid cleaned up, got dressed, and left. I’ll be honest, I wished he had stayed the night so I didn’t sleep alone again, but I was actually ok since I had my cable. Oh tv, how I love you!
Lesson learned: don’t judge a book by its cover, or you’ll be disappointed you did because you either missed out or over hyped yourself. And don’t develop feelings, you damn vagina.
The Daring Vagina