It Seemed Promising (Part 3)
Posted on August 8, 2011[Continued from "It Seemed Promising (Part 2)."]
As it was getting decidedly close to the time we were to meet, I decided to message the guy via the OkCupid app. Though I had given him my number, he hadn’t used it so I had no other way to contact him.
By that time I suspected he was the guy sitting at the end of the bar, but I wasn’t positive so I didn’t want to approach him. After all, he wasn’t the only solo guy in the bar and he could have been any of them. Yes, I had seen a picture, but it had been some time and online photos don’t always match up to real life flesh.
I should have trusted my instinct. I’ve met so many guys via Craig’s List and OkCupid at this point that I get a “looking for someone” vibe off of them. Eventually he must’ve read his OkCupid message because he came and sat next to me.
He was cute. He had straight teeth. Over the course of several drinks we had a very nice conversation. He said I came across as “toppy.” I said that I’m only toppy with idiots; that I appreciate a strong hand.
Our conversation included discussion of the bar, which was crazy. The sheer amount of random shit behind the bar was the crazy part; everything else was just a typical dive bar. 
Everything was covered with a layer of dust. But the best thing about the bar was the woman, presumably Rose, the owner of the titular bar, who had a well-padded seat behind the bar. Rose and I had a bit of a chit-chat and she hobbled out of her chair to get us more drinks.
The guy and I scooted our bar stools closer to each other. Hand on knee. Kiss. Drink. Hand up skirt. Girlish pushing of hand away. Hand on knee. Kiss. Drink. Hand up skirt. Girlish pushing of hand away.
I had on what can only be called embarrassing panties. Not panties at all, but underwear. Utilitarian underwear. I demurred again and finally told him that my underwear weren’t sexy. “What are you wearing, Spanx?”
Well, at least he had heard of what amounts to the modern girdle. All the stars wear them, and they keep things from moving about in an unattractive and uncomfortable manner. I admitted that I was, in fact, wearing Spanx.
He told me to go to the bathroom and take them off. By this time it had been established that I wasn’t feeling toppy at all. I did as I was told.
My skirt was long but it was still obvious his hands were up it; it was time to go. We took a cab to his place. In the cab we did some groping and making out; we were both raring to go.
By the time we got into his apartment he was manhandling me. This was not unwelcome. Not at all. I asked him to slap my face – several times. He was pulling my hair and pushing me about. I was having a fun time.
He had two dogs. They were cute, and one of them was old. I have a soft spot for old dogs, having had a 15-year-old dog in ill health, and now having and 11-year-old dog (still doing well). I, understandably, wanted to pet the dogs. I offered to take them out with him; he had been gone for several hours and chances were they had to go to the bathroom.
Apparently it wasn’t as easy for him to go from his dominant mode where he was pulling a woman’s hair and slapping her face, to a cooperative and nurturing mode where he was taking his dogs out to the bathroom with his date, who he would soon enough be treating roughly, because he refused to take out his dogs. He refused to do little more than acknowledge them and seemed upset that I was paying any attention at all to them.
I suppose this makes me one of those “only in the bedroom” D/s types because I prefer to relate to people (who deserve it) as my equals elsewhere and to get “mistreated” when it’s time for the rough fucking.
[To be continued ….]
I swear. True story.
Categories: True Story.
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18.08.2011 13:34
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19.09.2011 20:40