After a crappy date, I had the best night of sex of my life

Three months ago I became single again after a five-year relationship with the man I thought was the one in my life. No… After a really shitty day, I took the full brunt of my partner’s midlife crisis, which left us sitting on the house we shared, our travel plans in Asia, and our newly adopted 8-month-old dog .

It took him another month and a half before he actually decided to leave me. So when I finally had an answer to the fateful question “ Do you want to keep fighting or not? »even though it was negative, it felt real relief.

New apartment, new apps

I move suddenly, pack my bags and my broken heart into my new apartment and here I am at my parents’ place for three weeks in the sun. Time to digest the news, pack up my dreams for the future and gather my pride, I signed up on different dating apps.

Back in Paris, not very sure of myself, it takes me a while to meet the guys I chat with. I’ve never felt comfortable with dating, and aside from the fact that I’m the kind of girl who’s petrified of daring to make the first move in real life, it’s been almost six years since I’ve date. Chat, laugh and drink, ok. To move on? If the boy doesn’t start anything, I don’t move an eyelash cursing my shyness…

But I persevere. I repeat myself “He who tries nothing, achieves nothing” as a mantra, set a code with your friends to notify them via text if a date goes wrong (the kiwi emoji won the prize because, and I quote, “It’s ugly, hairy and sour”) and on to Guingamp!

I’m dating two guys. The first date is super nice, but nothing happens. The second one is meh, but I’m getting there: even though I know I’ll see the first one again, I start the discussion with a third guy I’ve been bothering for a while.

For what ? Because he’s clearly more interested in flirting and I’m not sure I’m ready to sleep with another man. In passing I make the great observation of my total perdition: I want to meet people, to have fun, but at the same time it scares me…

And then, by miracle or desperation, I accept his third proposal to meet.

An appointment that starts well and ends badly

So here I am, out on a date with Machin. My God, everything is fine at first. We laugh like whales, we discuss everything and nothing, we look for each other. I appreciate the effort he put in a hoodie (which I find very sexy on some guys) and not a boring turtleneck.

In the first cocktail bar I taste mine which is horrendous: with great gallantry I let Monsieur drink my drink and I opt instead for a good family pint. First mistake, I got Chouffe (will include connoisseurs of brain-destroying beers).

In the end we change places and find ourselves in a nice bar, with good music and a nice atmosphere. I continue with the beer but decide not to eat (simple temporary loss of appetite, I don’t see any flirting techniques from space).

And this is my second mistake. Enjailée as Jaja, I’m a little too happy towards the end of the date: I’m laughing more, my cheeks are red, and I’m ready to party all night.

Except that the gentleman doesn’t like it (I only realized this the next day): he cuts the evening short, makes me pay for his hamburger and our drinks, and in less time than it takes to write it, here it is on the bus.

It’s 1am, I find myself alone and tipsy, trying to find the right direction to get home. From Machin I won’t even get a text to know if I’m back alive: bye class (and good luck, asshole).

An unexpected conclusion to the evening

I start taking out my headphones and opening my best playlist to accompany my feverish footsteps on the asphalt when I approach a guy. He is with his motorbike, he has a nice face, characteristics that inspire confidence in me: I stop.

He asks me for a cigarette, and that’s a good thing: the genius that I am has some rolls at the bottom of his bag. With the help of alcohol we begin to chat and walk a bit together. The current flows well, he is very kind in the way he speaks. He’s talkative, but still asks me questions about myself: how was the evening, what do I do for a living?

We’re not far from my house, but what I didn’t know is that it wasn’t far from his house either. She very naturally offers me some tea: I don’t think about it too much.

In my brain, it’s my instincts that take precedence, I can definitely feel this little guy. Part of me also wants to do everything I like and give free rein to life’s possibilities. Neither one nor two, here I am in his apartment to chat over a warm Earl Grey.

We tell each other a little about our lives, and it’s really nice. It is easy to talk to him, he is very attentive and smiling. I tell him about my ex and my recent breakup, about my date night. He tells me that he recently discovered that he also liked boys, including one in particular.

At the end of a sentence, he leans gently towards me and kisses me. I then made a very pleasant observation: he kisses well. Really, really good.

“ Right now, I know I’m going to sleep with this stranger »

I laugh a little, I wonder what I’m doing: I don’t know this guy, he’s not necessarily my type, it’s late at night…

But now, this kiss has awakened something in me. How beautiful it is to be kissed, be desired. So beautiful that I do something that hasn’t happened to me in a long time: I start to let go and give in to another delicious kiss.

We have fun kissing, caressing and letting the pressure build gently. He offers me a massage, I give up (after all, why say no?!). He warms some oil with notes of tiare in his hands, and he places his palms on my back: they are hot. Or is it me?

His massage relaxes me completely and in that moment, I know I’m going to sleep with this stranger.

We ended up in his room, ripping our clothes off like teenagers. She kisses my neck, slowly moves down between my thighs, simply pushing aside my thong, I tell myself I am, but his mouth on me drives me crazy. I end up pulling his hair to lift him up and ask him if he has a condom. He seems a little surprised, as if at any moment I might change my mind and leave (he doesn’t know that I sold my soul half an hour earlier to the goddess of lust).

He smiles at me, walks away for what seems like an eternity, and finally returns with the Grail, a box full of condoms. I can’t take it anymore and I only want one thing: for him to penetrate me.

An intense night of sex and conversation

But the gentleman knows how to create tension: at first he kisses me slowly, just to make me a little more impatient. I groan, I stomp my feet. He slowly removes what little tissue I have left and finally enters me. I don’t think about anything anymore, I cling to his rock like an oyster and grab his ass with both hands.

He regularly slows down his pace, takes time to look at me, to kiss me on the mouth, everywhere, before walking away again. AND It drives me crazy with desire. He is kind, he asks me if I like what he does to me, what I want him to do to me, he tries everything: he turns me over, he turns me over, he takes me by the breasts, the love handles, the neck. He looks deep into my eyes when his hips move, and that turns me on a little more.

It’s now two in the morning and this boy who perhaps I would never have approached in any other context is driving me completely crazy. I find it beautiful, the taste of the unexpected.

The desire does not weaken, so we take breaks, discuss this and that, drink water and let’s get back to this. Almost her entire apartment has been there: the living room table, the couch where it all began, her bed again and against her bedroom wall.

I’ve never had as much fun as I did last night. I feel beautiful, sexy and free. My complexes and fears are put in the cellar and I finally give myself full space in front of the stage, like a rock star.

The best sex of my life and a confidence boost along the way

Around five in the morning we are curled up on his couch, full and happy, daydreaming. But suddenly I emerge and reminds me of an important meeting three hours later at the other end of Paris.

I explain to him that I’m going home; he immediately gets dressed and offers to take me home. Here we are, on a freezing morning, picking up the discussion exactly where we left off a few hours earlier! This is completely unrealistic and at the same time completely natural. It’s literally three blocks from my house, so I write the information in my head, smiling.

Arriving at the end of my building, we exchange numbers and kiss on the lips, like fireworks to end this incredible night spent together. I go upstairs, all sweaty, the smell of monoi enveloping me and a stupid smile on my lips.

Once in bed, I realize it I didn’t remember his name. I send him a little message, dying of laughter under the duvet. He replies simply wishing me good luck on the date and a good night. No pressure.

I don’t know if I will ever see him again, but one thing is certain: I am capable of letting myself go, of feeling desirable and confident, I intend to return as soon as possible. This is how this guy, who I didn’t know from Eve or Adam, managed to increase my self-esteem and give me wonderful moments… And best fucking moment of my life.

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