She's looking closer to home for her wedding plus one.
I think I may have done something stupid. Something really stupid. Although I’m not 100% sure just yet. I think I tried to turn one of my man friends into something more than friends and as soon as he rolled off me I realised “OMG we shouldn’t have f*cking done that” and now I’m trying to act like nothing happened even though we both know it happened.
It’s a well-known fact that my luck (or taste) in men is not great, dreadful some might even say, and still on the hunt for my plus one, I decided to look a bit closer to home.
Could I really put myself through another conversation on Tinder with someone I didn’t actually like while trying to convince myself that I’m just being too picky, or could I force another cup of coffee down my throat on an awkward date knowing it was going to give me the shits? The answer was and still is NO.
Then one afternoon when we were all on the pints, my pal flexed the guns at me and after a few hours of telling me how everyone was mad for him and me laughing in his face I thought… MAYBE. We get on great, we always have a laugh and although he wasn’t my type, he wasn’t actually bad looking.
Had the answer to all my problems been right under my nose this whole time? Was I too busy entertaining shitebags to even notice? This is always how it happens in the films anyway, what could possibly go wrong.
First we met for lunch, just the two of us. We slagged everyone we know and had our own little jokes, just the two of us. We even went for strolls to get chicken fillet rolls and both asked for Taco sauce, just the two of us. It seemed like the stars were aligned. After date number five I shaved my legs and asked him was he calling in, and he was more than happy to oblige. I don’t know what happened, if it was me or what, but it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.
I was sober, I was absolutely scaaaaaaaaaaaaarlet, the only tan I had was Rimmel Sun Shimmer in shade Light and I’m completely convinced it made me look paler. I had eaten two slices of pizza literally five minutes before, so I was kinda bloated and very aware of it. There was this ‘oh shit’ realisation as he was pulling my jeans off (and struggling) that he was about to see all my cellulite and my bits jiggling where they aren’t supposed to. But I went with it. I’m only human after all, and by the time he actually got my jeans off, Met Eireann were nearly issuing a flood warning.
And then it was FINE, just FINE. I didn’t see fireworks and the ground wasn’t trembling, neither were my knees, but there was a slight tremor, I think… But we were both aware that one of us finished and one of us did not which made it awkward as f*ck when we were done.
I was grand about it, I mean it was our first time. I’ve had plenty of sex where I said “I’m gonna come” and only meant “to my senses”, and didn’t class this as one of those rides. But he kept bringing it up and adding more awareness to a situation we were both already aware of. When he left everything was FINE, we were FINE but as the hours went on and I tried to tell my bestie all the details I kept thinking, why wasn’t it amazing when everything else seemed to be?
Could it just be first time nerves? Do we want to go there again and see if things are better? OMG, what if they aren’t? Have we messed up our friendship completely or can we just go back to how it was before the big oooooooh noooooooo? He’ll know if we do it again and I fake it! I thought I had faked enough enjoyment the first time and he still knew!
Maybe if I put medium or dark tan on it will be different? Better? Sexier? Either way, I’m going there again and the tan will defo help. I’ll let you know if it’s another Oh No or if I get the Oh God I’m hoping for. Stay Stunnin’, Huns.
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