This happened several years ago, in my late 20s. Names, dialogue and details have been adjusted to preserve anonymity and story flow. A bit about me: I’m average height, weight, and dick; long wavy brown hair, a beard, and big blue eyes. Teddy bear vibes. I’m a licensed massage therapist, and every so often I’ll find myself at a conference of fellow professionals. During the day this involves seminars, classes, demonstrations, sales, etc. At night things sometimes get a little nuts.
This particular conference was for a luxury spa brand I worked for at the time, a training weekend for myself and 50 of my colleagues from around the country on new services and products for the coming year. The company had me sharing a room with a quiet dude from Maryland named Tom. Nice enough guy but we didn’t really make a solid connection at first. First night of the conference there’s an open bar cocktail hour that I and almost every therapist there make the most of, so we’re all getting very comfortable with one another pretty quickly. Massage therapists can be a pretty physically affectionate crowd, and I’m never great at picking up signals, so it takes me an embarrassingly long time to realize that this red-headed therapist named Jess has been flirting with me.