Dating (dr) Disaster

So after a month long absence I finally hook up with Dr Disaster again.  What can I say?  I've been fragile. Slightly unhinged.  I'm a little bit of a sucker for the offer of being driven to a nice restaurant and plied with free wine and food.  More fool me.

We hadn't seen each other for a month, due to his travels and my imaginary hectic social life.  He had texted sporadically but not really enough to demonstrate a true interest.  I reciprocated by languidly waiting several days to reply, yet painstakingly composing dry, witty responses which I hoped would pique his interest further once he realised the calibre of woman he was dealing with.

We bumped into each other a couple of times in Wholefoods cafe, the venue of our original meeting.  I was always in a rush or totally preoccupied with other people (score!) and I was a little thrown off guard by the warmth of his greeting and the instant follow up texts 'u look as beautiful as ever'.  He'd spent a week in Miami over the New Year and looked incredibly HOT with a tan.  Totally edible.  I began to reconsider my options where he is concerned.  Maybe there is more potential than I had estimated, I mused.

After receiving yet another text 'r u free this week for drinks?' I waited 24 hours before replying 'it appears the long-last art of using the telephone for its original purpose is not longer a part of your reportiore...?'  (aka: I think I'm worth a phone call at this point, don't you?)  Within 20 minutes he called me, laughing, and we made plans to go out on what would be our 5th date.

The night of the date arrived and I'm nervous and a little aflutter.  The boys are with their dad and in the back of my mind I make the assumption that maybe this time I will invite him in for a 'drink' and get an insight into his dry-humping technique on the sofa.  As a precautionary measure I wear jeans and a top that leaves Everything to the imagination.  Don't want him to get the impression that I am desperate for it or anything, after all.  I deliberately wear my least sexy underwear as an internal act of self-preservation, a cautious mental deterrent incase my body tries to persuade me that going beyond dry-humping at this point is a good idea.

The date is fantastic.  He takes me to one of his favourite restaurants and we talk and flirt non-stop.  He places his hand on my leg and leans in to talk closer, gently using his fingers to play with my hair. I can feel his breath on my neck.  Oh he's good.  He's very good.  I try not to act too impressed but feel that I am failing miserably.  At 11 o'clock he casually remarks, "we could order another couple of glasses of wine...or maybe buy a bottle to share back at your place?"  Pause.  "Unless you have wine at your place already?"  "Yeah, I have wine", I reply and the decision is made.

Back at mine the wine is barely poured before he pounces.  The gentle and seductive kissing technique employed in public goes out of the window as he lunges at me with his tongue, hands moving in for the kill.  I try to back off a little but he's having none of it.  To describe his approach as animalistic is being generous - I can imagine cavemen being more gentle as they drag their women by the hair into the fields.  I don't want to appear the prude but detach myself on the pretense of wanting some wine.

He moves in to kiss me again and this time pulls my head back so sharply all the muscles in the front of my neck strain uncomfortably.  What the hell is going on?  I am thinking to myself.  Does he really think  that having my hair pulled so ferociously is sexy?  At which point he sucks my tongue into his mouth with such intensity I fear it's about to get pulled out at the roots.  OW!  Give me that back, you heathen. I need that.  My two greatest pleasures in life are talking and eating and my tongue is pretty essential for both of those activities.  I would prefer, if at all possible, that it remains firmly where it is meant to be.  In my mouth.

When he finally relinquishes my tongue, his mouth starts to move down my body aiming for my crotch.  "No" I say firmly.  He looks up at my quizzically, as if he's not sure he understands what I am saying.  "No", I repeat, "I'm  not comfortable taking this any further right now."  He moves back up to kiss me again and I attempt to keep my tongue locked firmly behind my back teeth for protection.  Yet again, as soon as the kissing intensifies he attempts to move south.  "No", I say for the third time, feeling a bit of a fool by now and a little annoyed that my previous No obviously didn't quite register.

Even if I had been comfortable with the concept of a little oral at this point, I would have been nervous that the assault on my tongue would be replicated on my clitoris (yet another organ which I am quite partial to and which I would like to remain quite firmly attached to my body).

This pantomime continues for another 15 minutes or so.  He's trying it on. I'm not letting him.  I feel a little embarrassed, as if I am at fault in this situation, and angry with myself for feeling this way.  Eventually I stand up and he gets ready to leave.  Despite the slightly awkward atmosphere, the tone between us is still light and flirty as he departs.

The next day I am discussing the date with a friend - another single mum who is currently juggling dating 3 men (I don't know how she does it).  She asks me if I had texted him to thank him for dinner and drinks at least..."it's always good to be polite and appreciative, even though the date ended a little uncomfortably" she suggests.  I decide against it - then change my mind and text him that night 'God I am turning into a Brit with no manners.  What is the world coming to?  Thanks for dinner and drinks last night.  Despite possible appearances to the contrary, I did enjoy your company'.  He responds immediately, 'Oh Nicola, the pleasure was all mine'.

And that is the last I have heard from him.

The date was just over a week ago.  I had made the decision to ignore him when he finally got in contact, as he hadn't bothered to call or text over the weekend, but now he isn't even going to give me that satisfaction!  You have to contact me before I can ignore you!  Go on.  I just want to end this feeling like I have the upper hand in at least one situation in my life right now.  Even a caveman like yourself can show me that little courtesy, can't you?