So I’m starting to match and talk a little bit on Tinder.
Here’s Mitchell, 28… Not my type at all, but he looks a bit mad, so I swing right…
Yeah it’s not a hot one, but at least no pressure for my first date 😉
We’re planning to meet on Monday, I’m pushing it back to Tuesday.
I’m getting ready, little skirt tank top outfit (thanks Sophie for pushing me to buy it), a bit of mascara and off I go. I could have done without my sunburn, but we’ll make do with it.
It gives me an appointment on a rather nice rooftop. When I arrive, I’m barely 5 minutes late, and he’s already got his beer, which he drinks in big gulps. Thanks for waiting for me! Great job!
I give him a kiss, but actually, it’s not really something that happens here… Too bad, it’s my French side.
I’m in charge now. Let’s go around the banalities. Once you get used to his accent, the conversation is fluid and he’s pretty funny and nice.
After 3 pints we change bar, we talk about sport, he’s an unconditional fan of something called footy, a mix between football and rugby. In short, he’s sometimes a bit too delirious.
Oh yeah, I forgot, his outfit, it doesn’t fit at all, good jeans ok, but Marvel T-shirt with Deadpool in the back… It’s not my stuff at all.
He’s got charm, but I smell the big geek, who for his next tattoo wants to get a light saber on his calf…
Two pints later, I pay for one of the five… It’s all right… He’s more gallant than he looked… So two pints later, we decide to go out for a meal somewhere. It’s Tuesday, most of the restaurants are closed, it’s after 10:00.
We go to a little tapas and burger place. We recommend a pitcher of beer, we won’t finish it. Besides, we won’t finish our plate of fries, either.
Things get serious.
He’s more tactile, with alcohol, I find him a certain charm, I let myself be kissed. Kissing is neither good nor bad. It lacks a little intensity.
I feel that he, on the other hand, is very excited, I guess a bump under his pants. It makes me smile.
He’s lost, he wants me very much, but he starts at 8:00 the next day.
He offers to see me again the next day… to pick up where we left off.
He escorts me back to my inn and takes an Uber to get home.
So I’ll see you the next day.
I’m already in my Airbnb at Northbeach, quietly getting ready. I already have Tom, my Thursday date in my head, I’m moderately motivated.
Let’s go for a 45 minute walk along the coast to come and find him. He told me to meet him at a bar across the beach.
Like the day before, he already has his drink. I’ll order mine.
The conversation is less fluid than the day before, but after a few minutes of adaptation, it starts again a little.
We change tables to be outside. It’s a table with benches, a table of six. We sit side by side to get along better.
Distractions for my pupils
Two surfers, their skin well tanned by the sun, their hair golden by the sea spray, come and stand in front of us. The one on the right looks at me with a point of interest, the one on the left makes jokes about his buddy, saying he’s as appetizing as his steak. I’m sensing Mitchell’s a little tense. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying the joke.
It’s true Mitchell’s white as an aspirin, he’s not a fan of the beach. It’s silly, but at the moment I feel too good for him… It’s not nice to think that… But that’s how I feel at the moment.
A fourth guy comes and sits next to us, he’s not very tanned either, but he’s really cute and has beautiful blue eyes. He’s trying to start a conversation, he’s English and on holiday for two weeks. He’s very nice, I can change, say??? Go??
Mitchell is closed, and since he’s between me and the handsome Englishman… he’s only talking to me, just to make it clear to the others that tonight I’m with him.
He goes to the bathroom, and we have a little chat with the Englishman. He’s funny, and he’s really cute.
Alpha male, Mitch attacks
But Mitchell comes back and offers to change bars… Clever Mitchell… Clever… Otherwise…
We change bars, he’s on coke, I’m on beer. I get a little punch in the nose, on a bench, he kisses me. It’s better than the day before and his caresses let me predict that he may be more talented than he seems.
When he offers me to go to his place, I don’t say no. I feel like it, I’ve forgotten about surfers and English. Let’s give little Mitch a chance.
Star Wars inspired Mitch?
In the car, we’re having a quiet conversation. He’s living in a brand-new apartment, barely furnished, decorated only with Star Wars action figures… not very sexy stuff.
We kiss on the couch, but quickly we go to the bedroom, he undresses me with envy, and tastes me, takes care of my intimacy softly. It’s good, but it lacks a little intensity.
He can’t take it anymore, he’s getting a condom. And then Mitchell reveals himself, Mitchell’s doing really well, I’m even having an orgasm pretty quickly. Well, we’re hiding his game, Mitch!
The problem is, after my orgasm, the desire comes back down, first round’s over but I don’t feel like a second round. The unknown was exciting, but there his body neither muscular, nor thin, nor fat, all white does not give me desire anymore.
I ask him to take me back. He’s disappointed, but he does. I’m rightly claiming that I’d sleep better alone. He nods and takes me back.
I haven’t heard from Mitch. And that’s good.
Translation : https://www.deepl.com/fr/translator#fr/en