I’ve dabbled in 1st date sex on a couple occasions and it’s not as bad as everyone portrays. It’s a hit-or-miss and usually just happens. I may have worn my good panties or shave that particular day just in case something popped off…but 1st date sex was never planned. Let’s just say that I was always well prepared.
Believe it or not, I encourage everyone to have 1st date sex. Good sex is very important to me and it is truly a deal breaker in relationships. I’ve spent some years fine-tuning my sex game – mastering all that I can so that I can be a great lover. It’s only right to get the same kind of treatment from my partner. Bad sex is so disheartening and upsetting on so many levels. There’s nothing worst than spending time getting to know someone and then finding out months later that this person has a weak, incurable stroke.
I’m a firm believer that sex gets better and that no one should ever dwell over lost penis/vagina a.k.a. an ex. Typically, I’m able to turn a dull moment into a glorious one. But there was something about my one and only occasion with John that couldn’t be resolved. I craved this man. He had the most desirable chocolate complexion I’d ever seen. He was tall, had a beautiful smile, lots of style and he was well educated. We’d see each other faithfully at music events and parties throughout the city. After weeks of
stalking researching, I finally decided to make a move. I noticed he was sipping on the default urban drink – Amaretto Sour. I ordered my favorite, Hennessy Sidecar, and headed towards his direction at the bar. I told him that he deserved a real drink and that he should try my favorite if he wanted something tangy.
He laughed. I smiled. We talked. Exchanged numbers. I was geeked!
After several late night phone calls, we finally arranged a first date. We had an AMAZING dinner courtesy of a quaint, local Italian restaurant. We decided to hit up the bar at the W Hotel for drinks and more conversation as we did not want the night to end. I tried my best to tame my inner hoe, Lola, but she was out of control that night.
I flirted. I whispered. I hugged. He kissed. And somehow, we ended up back at my place.
It’s amazing how ballsy I was at the bar. As soon as I stepped foot in my front door, that’s when the conservative, proper representative took over. I offered him water and turned on ESPN just to make him feel at home. It was all fun and games at the bar when I was flirting and rubbing his back – but now it was time to get down and I was nervous.
Sex too soon could result in so many things. You’re either placed in the FWB category, dismissed or you could be that 1% who lucks up on a relationship. I really wanted this guy but I didn’t want him to think that I was a hoe. F*ck it. I’m a grown woman. And part of being a grown woman is taking ownership in every decision you make and unapologetically doing whatever your heart desires. And at 2 AM on a Friday – I desired this 6’3″ chocolate Adonis. I made the first move by slipping my panties off from under my dress and straddled him.
I should have known that the sex wasn’t going to work out after 2 minutes of kissing. He has this complex about being “out kissed.” He wanted to take the lead with the kisses and requested that I stop trying to kiss him first. Weird much? I went along with the kissing game by not moving my lips – keeping my mouth semi open and lips soft. After a few rounds of kissing, grinding and necking…we were good and ready.
1 stroke in and 1 stroke out. Ok, I’m exaggerating. 3 strokes in and 3 strokes out – he was done. I was trying to run back the foreplay events in my head:
Did I grind too long on top of him? I know I didn’t give head tonight; maybe I should not have bit and sucked on his ear. Maybe he rubbed himself to hard when he rolled the condom down his shaft. Yeah that has to be it.
I am the queen of 2nd chances. But when the brother faked a Charlie Horse as a cop out to him pulling out – I was done. In fact, I was speechless. I was hoping that he’d play it off and request 10 minutes to recover before round 2 but no, I got the I-got-a-Charlie-Horse-let-me-walk-it-off excuse. I pretended to be exhausted and told him I had early morning plans. He pursued me for awhile after our first encounter. But I was too turned off to even experiment with him again.