When I first dated my now fiance I immediately knew I liked him: he was so nice, sweet and funny, we talked about literature and art, philosophy and politics, totally clicked in every way – oh and he was hot. I didn’t think twice about going back to his when he offered on our third date (classic gentleman).
The problem was, and I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but it wasn’t very good. It’s since got better, but that first time was definitely a disappointment.
But luckily for me I had a back up plan.
I’d hooked up with this other guy before. He wasn’t relationship material, he was a bit of a meathead, but he knew how to fuck and he had no qualms with being my second of the night if necessary. He’d answered my late night texts like this before and if anything he seemed to like that I’d come running to him.
So I made my excuses about needing to go home because of an early start the next day and headed to the other guy’s house. Personally, at the time, I think it was a good idea: I got to have a really fun evening with one guy, without having to not get my brains fucked out by the other.