Drought Broken

Over the last few months I’ve had a pretty dismal run with single men. Between guys who are only available every second week and those who cancel dates at the last minute, I’ve been starting to question if I was doing something wrong. Last Saturday night in particular left me gobsmacked. I was in touch with no less than five guys to see if any of them were interested in meeting at some point during the night:

Guy 1: Relentlessly asked to meet me and he finally got his chance. Babysitter fail (apparently). MIA.
Guy 2 : Keen to meet but come Saturday night, ‘struggled’ to leave the house. Told him to stay home. Contact deleted.
Guy 3: Supposedly interested in the same swingers party we were going to but bailed when we couldn’t meet for drinks first.
Guy 4: Very intent on meeting me but was having drinks elsewhere. Said he’d go to the party later but either got laid or too drunk and didn’t show up. MIA since. He may think I’m pissed off for yet another no-show.
Guy 5: Nice guy who probably always turns up to dates. Came to the party with a single girl. Sadly no chemistry.

Drought Broken

Before you start rolling your eyes, this is not a pity party. I own the fact that I don’t make things easy for myself. If I was less choosy, I could have random cock delivered to my home faster than a Domino’s pizza. Sadly, I do have a type and as such, I write off a good number of otherwise eligible guys for not coming up to par. If I’m left with guys who I find hot but aren’t particularly reliable, then that’s my First World, Hotwife problem.

Fortunately my faith in single guys was restored this weekend with the man drought broken finally. I decided to focus on a contact I had made some time ago who I knew was very experienced with couples, having even spent time as a bull exclusively for one Hotwife. J was attractive but I wasn’t immediately drawn to him for some reason. As such, I didn’t go out of my way to arrange a date with him when in retrospect he was probably the most sensible choice. Mind you, it didn’t help that J was a FIFO worker so our free weekends rarely aligned even when I did enquire about his availability.

Finally the planets aligned and J was free to meet. The only problem was that he was getting over a cold and wasn’t feeling overly sexy. This actually wasn’t a problem since my family was up for an early start the next morning so a couple of drinks was probably all that we were up for. In fact, with my husband needing to be well rested, he suggested that I go out and meet J on my own since it was just a social date. He knows how much cheeky fun it is to play the flirty single.

So I met J at a busier than expected bar with only a vague idea of what he looked like. Thankfully I’m easy to spot in a crowd so when a good-looking guy locked eyes on me, I knew it was J. I didn’t have super clear photos of him but he was certainly attractive and I could tell through his sweater that he worked out. There wasn’t immediate sexual chemistry but I was happy to see what a round or two of drinks would lead to, not that playing was on the cards that night.

J was easy to talk to and we found a fair few things in common to share stories about. I asked about his previous MFM experiences and it was a relief to hear how fluid J was about sex. As long as he knew where he stood and what was expected of him, he was ready to try anything. By the end of the second glass of wine, I was having a great time being out with good company. I wasn’t overcome with lustful intentions for him as yet but I told J that I wanted to see him again.

He walked me back to my car. Stuff happened.

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