It was about 4:30pm. I was still at work and my date wasn’t for a few hours, but I could already feel the excitement fizzing through me. There was no need or reason for me to be feeling this weird mix of nervous energy and anticipation. I had been on plenty of dates like this before– you chat a bit, sext a bit, try and get a feel for each other, set a date and time, and then just show up. That was the usual approach I went with. I put it on my calendar and then don’t think too much about it until the day rolls around. Not a lot of texting either. I’m a hopeless romantic, who is also deeply skeptical, so even when I’m just dating to hook up I can get excited about the idea of a person before I’ve even met them. So to temper this, I just don’t invest a lot leading up.
A was different. I liked talking to him, enjoyed seeing his messages pop up and didn’t feel smothered by it. I was getting a nice dopamine hit with every message. And I spent that week constantly aroused, but at a low level. Just a slight flush to my face and constant wetness between my legs.