“...” I heard a muffled sound of acknowledgement and turned to see his mouth moving in my direction. I paused my music, “Sorry, what?”
“Hi, I just wanted to let you know I think you’re gorgeous,” he said with a smile. I nodded my thanks in response and went back to turn on my music before he could continue speaking to me. “My name is …, what’s yours?”
Uh oh... too late. At this point I debate whether to tell him my real name or make up one. I settled on a nickname, I’m probably never going to see him again anyway.
“It’s Moody,” I said back nonchalantly.
“What a cute name, do you have a boyfriend?” Another brief pause to decide if I was going to make up a boyfriend, a husband or a fiance. “No,” I sigh, there’s no point in lying. I'm probably never going to see him again.
“Oh! Then can I get your number?”
“Sure,” exasperated I sigh and call out my number. At this point I just want to be left alone. I want to go home.
I didn’t expect a call or a text, he was a thing of the moment. I mean, afterall I didn’t even know his name.
He called, and set up a date almost immediately. At this point I was impressed, he kind of had some motion. So I get into it, the date is casual. He asked some questions, I answered as best as I could without sounding irritated but there was no attraction and again I didn’t even know his name.
When we were done, I let him kiss me because I didn’t have a reason why he couldn’t. It was the worst kiss I had ever had. The full mouth–sloppy wet kind, that makes it feel like they’re licking your face. I had to steadily guide him away from my face. So he went to the next best thing, my neck.
I gently pushed him off me because at this point I was ready to go home. I guess he felt my not so subtle energy because he asked if I was ready to go. I nodded and picked up my phone. I could smell him on me and I wanted nothing more than a shower.
We pulled up to my place, and he leaned in for another kiss/makeout session. I swerved and waved goodbye while practically running up my steps.
“Hey, I had a great time with you,” my phone pinged. “Me too,” I’m still always going to be polite, I thought to myself.
“You should let me eat you out sometime,” now we were talking.
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