Date file: The PhD

December 2018

I had had a good time with the traveling salesman, but he had now flown back home and who knew when or if I would see him again. Exhusband and I had already planned to be in separate places for the weekend, with him taking the kids and me going to an all girls Christmas party. Which meant I also had a lot of additional free time on my hands. So off to Bumble I went to see if anyone wanted to help me occupy my time.

I am a sapsiosexual. In case you don’t know what that is, it means I’m turned on by intelligence. I don’t care how hot a guy is, if he’s as dumb as a box of rocks, I can’t fuck him much less date him. Same goes for Republicans (sorry not sorry).

So when I come across the blonde haired blue-eyed PhD in mathmatics candidate at the premier university in my city, my heart beat started to speed up.

We match and immediately hit it off. To my suprise he wants to actually talk to me on the phone (people still do that??). So I give him my number and we chat and shamelessly flirst and he doesn’t keep me on the phone past half an hour because he says he wants to have more to talk to me about when he takes me out tomorrow.

The next day we meet at a Mexican restaurant that has a fancy rooftop bar and fabulous margaritas. I plan on heading to my girls Christmas party right after, so I’m a little extra festive looking. I have on a slouchy sparkly black sweater and bright red lipstick. As soon as I see him I feel tingly all over. I basically want to jump on him at the bar. We quickly drink two drinks each and keep inching closer and closer together. I admit that I a drunk and shouldn’t drive. We both agree that we are done being at the bar, so one of us (I honestly don’t remember who) suggests we go back to his place. We casually chat the whole way there in his car and while we walk across his apartment complex. His apartment is modest and giant textbooks litter the floor. He has one small string of Christmas lights around his patio door. I comment on his festive decorations and he leans in to kiss me.

And in less than 90 seconds we are both naked as jaybirds writhing on top of each other on his couch.

PhD: Bedroom?
Me: Yes, please.

This is the third man I sleep with post divorce. It is the first penis that is noticeably different than the others.

While I was married, I forgot that my husband was rather well endowed. He was the 10th man I slept with, so I had some experience with others, but not like I had seen a ton in person. And I figure porn is a poor representation because it’s primarily all fantasy anyway. I doubt they higher many porn stars with average pensises.

Anyway, I digress.

PhD is not as long, but boy does he make up for it in girth.

He makes my body do things I didn’t know it could do. I soak the sheets he makes me so wet. He comments on my vocalizations (they ALL do). We fuck so hard, we fuck the sheets completely off the bed. We go three rounds and eventually we realize it’s dark outside. My party started well over an hour and a half ago.

He looks to see if his face is covered in my lipstick. It’s not, but his neck has about 20 hickeys all over it. Oops.

He drives me back to my car, and kisses me until we have to pull away from each other. He asks when he can see me again. I tell him I have to look at my schedule, but I think I can see him in 4 days.

When I arrive at my party, it’s practically over. And I realize my sweater is on backwards.

Four days later he and I have been continuously texting back and forth. I’m trying to play it cool because I actually like him. I try to make sure he initiates the conversations to know that he is genuinely interested in me. When the day of potential sex arrives, I text to confirm we’re still going to meet up.

PhD: So… about that… I don’t know if I can
Me: Oh, did something come up?
PhD: No, I just… I know this sounds weird, but I kinda have a hard time being ok with random, unattached sex.
Me: Oh. Well… I literally just got divorced so….
PhD: Yeah, no, I know, I’m not asking for anything more but I just like… I think I need some more time before we do this again.
Me: But you want to fuck me again?
PhD: Yes, absolutely.

So we wait a litte longer. We continue to flirt and sext and generally keep each other updated about various on goings in our day to day lives. About a week later, he says he’s ready for another round. We look at our schedules and find a date and time. When the date arrives, I text him again asking where he wants to meet.

PhD: So, I’m really sorry, but I can’t do this.
Me: I thought you were cool now?
PhD: Yeah, but…. I just don’t think I’m that into you.

I feel heat wash over me and my face flush. I’m at work. I will not cry at work. I can think of almost nothing more embarrassing.

Me: You don’t even want to be fuck buddies?
PhD: You would still want to even after I told you I’m not that into you?
Me: I mean… we had great sex
PhD: Yes, we did…
Me: So maybe we can… you know what. No. It’s fine.
PhD: It’s fine?
Me: Yes. It’s fine. I’ve spent too much of my life trying to convince people to like me and if you don’t, then you don’t. So. Yeah. It’s fine. Thank you for your honesty.

And I go out to my car and cry.

Outcomes:
2nd date: No
Sex: Yes
Ghosting: No, but he essentially “broke up” with me, for lack of a better term

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