He lived on a boat but I made him use my shower and scrub his fingernails clean before we even kissed. ANYWAY, this was probably my funniest sex story for a while. And at least he wasn’t a racist.

The date

We agreed to meet outside the pub and I had sent him my location. As I approached the pub, I saw a VERY HOT guy staring at me and walking towards me, but I forgot what he looked like from his Hinge profile. He also had a million layers of clothing on him and a backpack – no way was that my date (who needs a backpack for an 8pm date?!)

I assumed he would recognise me first and say something – there weren’t a lot of brown girls with a fringe walking around the area. We just stared and walked past each other, then simultaneously turned around when we realised what had happened and laughed. Great start. At least it gave us something to instantly bond over.

We lied about being in the same household and sat on a table inside a pub which had shit halloween decorations all over the bar. I asked him one of my screener questions; he didn’t give me the best response because apparently he hadn’t thought about the topic enough, but he admitted that which I respect. He then asked me his very good screener question: “do you think Labour has an anti-semitism problem?” My immediate answer was yes, and I had the urge to go off on a rant about how much the left needs to get its shit together and how much they’ve hurt the Jewish community – but he was Jewish so I realised that would be a like a white person complaining about anti-asian racism to me (mildly annoying to say the very least).

Apart from being a lefty, we had very little else in common. Not that work defines a person, but he was a professional circus performer who was working on pitching a sitcom about being in the circus. Maybe he’ll be famous one day and I can sell my story to the papers.

There was some giggling. Some leg grazing. That will-they-won’t-they-part-of-a-date is so much fun and it had been a while since I had that. But there were a few things that put me off: too many mentions of poo stories, his loud laugh, how he kept doing a west country accent for the lols (I didn’t find it funny). I’m sure this kind of stuff doesn’t put everyone off, but I had to tell him to stop with the poop chat and his terrible accent. He didn’t.

I asked if he wanted to come back to mine. He was keen. I told him I noticed his fingernails were a grubby and asked when was the last time he had a shower. TWO DAYS. He hadn’t showered for TWO DAYS. He only just fitted a water tank into the boat he bought a month ago and had been using a bucket to wash. I asked him if he could shower at mine before we did anything and he was cool with it. I asked him if that was weird to ask, but he actually appreciated that I just outright told him what I wanted and he also seemed happy for the opportunity to have a hot shower.

The failed first attempt at sex

I think he tried to be kinky – but without any communication or discussion first, which is a big no-no. He knew I liked kink because I had briefly mentioned it before our date, but he asked for clarification on what “kink” actually meant. I explained the spectrum of kink – anything from blindfolds all the way to a master-slave relationship that extends beyond the bedroom – but insisted we could just do vanilla that night and talk through it when we’re having sex.

He came in ROUGH during foreplay though. Throwing my body around in weird shapes, grinding on me, biting me, kissing me all over, but I didn’t like it because he had a really prickly stubble that hurt my sensitive skin. We hadn’t even fucking talked about it. I pushed him off and tried to ask him what he liked. He said, AND I QUOTE, “I like it rough and I like going down on girls.” Remember the first bit of that for later.

Of course he did go down on me and I wanted him to put his fingers in at the same time, but I never asked him to because of his grubby fingernails, which he did make an effort to clean but they just weren’t clean enough for me.

Then he got rough again. I honestly tried to endure it and hope it would become pleasurable, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself and having a shit time so I had to speak up and ask him to stop. I was just not into it. It didn’t feel like sexy-and-in-the-throes-of-passion rough, more like I’m-not-really-noticing-there’s-a-person-here rough. I tried to justify my decision by saying that I normally like it rough just not today, but in hindsight I realise it’s because he just sprung it on me without really talking about it.

I suggested we had a breather to talk about what we liked. I started by asking, “so do you like biting then?” hoping that if he said yes, I could give him some specific areas to bite on my body that I liked. But this poor boy fell at the first hurdle and just started saying, “I don’t know.” I tried to press him for more and he seemed even more confused.

I eventually ask, “so do you like it rough then?”
He says, “I don’t really know, I’ve never done it before.”
I ask, “why were you going so rough then?”
“Because you said you liked it!”

Surprised, I exclaim, “I did NOT say that, YOU said that. Why did you say you like it if you don’t usually do that?”
“I don’t know, it was the vibe.”

I think this boy was trying to impress me but in doing so he ruined it. And then he started freaking out and couldn’t get hard again. And then I did something I’ve done in the past and had vowed never to do again, but I was horny as fuck so I broke my own promise to me: I became his therapist.

STOP RAISING HIM HE’S NOT YOUR SON

I was sat there naked with a man, yet again, trying to help him through his erectile dysfunction issues. At first he told me it was because the situation felt was “too clinical” and that’s what was ruining the mood. Then he eventually admitted he’d recently spoke to someone about premature ejaculation. This surprised me because on our date he told me he had bought a girl back to his boat last week, but I guess we all have shit to deal with behind the scenes.

He told me it could also be the alcohol and the fact he hadn’t eaten dinner. I asked him when the last time he ate was and he said it was at 12 – it was now 9.30pm! I OFFERED TO MAKE HIM TOAST. Like I was his fucking mum. Even he knew this was too far and said that he wasn’t going to come to my house, have a shower and eat my food. He was right.

When I realised what I had said, I quoted my fave white girl Gen Z, Florence Given and said, “you’re right, you’re not my son, I shouldn’t be raising you.” I just felt a little sorry for him and wanted to help him feel better, completely forgetting that I had showered, moisturised and worn sexy lingerie for this twat who didn’t even shower before our date. Why was I so concerned about this stranger’s wellbeing? Is this the part of me that’s socialised to be caring and put the needs of others before my own because I’m a woman?! Or would a man react the same way in my position if the roles were reversed?

Me feeling sorry for him did not make him feel sexy though. Me frequently going “aww, it’s okay, don’t worry” probably also put him off. He couldn’t get hard again after that. I guess men need to feel sexy too. The catch-22 is that talking about what makes them sexy makes them feel less sexy so you can never figure out how to make them feel sexy.

The second attempt at sex

I, being the demanding and forthright person that I am in bed, somehow manoeuvred a situation where he started fingering me. I asked him if he was sure he didn’t want to help me out before he went. He managed to find my cheat code to orgasm without me telling him (stimulate my clit while sucking on my nipples, which are weirdly sensitive).

This obviously turned him on enough that he got hard again – he just needed some validation and reassurance after I had abruptly ended our first sexual encounter. I started giving him a blowjob because he had a freshly washed D, but he asked me to stop soon after because it was going to make him cum.

Penetration lasted about two minutes. He said he was going to cum and since I didn’t really like him that much, I told him that was okay. He made a funny cum face, but my housemate told me that if I fancied him properly, I wouldn’t have minded. Guess I didn’t fancy him that much because of his personality, even though he did have the most beautiful face ever.

What I learnt

After he came, he looked me in the eye and sincerely thanked me for “seeing this through with him.” I understand what he was getting at, but where do I keep finding these men who need so much metaphorical handholding through sex? Let’s reflect on the lessons learnt:

1. Trust your first instincts. I guess he was really annoying on the date but he was hot so I just ignored it. Bad move. This is a mistake I make every few months though if I’ve not dated in a while, so I won’t beat myself up about it too much this time.
   
2. You can ask a man to meet your basic hygiene needs. I’m so glad I’m now the kind of woman who will tell a man to shower before he has sex with me. (Now I just need to be the kind of woman who doesn’t have to keep sacrificing her own clean towels for this demand.) I have girl friends who tell me they don’t mind a sweaty man. That’s great for them, but if you’re not into it, that’s okay too! It’s perfectly normal to expect a person you date will have showered before meeting up with you. You’re not a demanding bitch with ridiculously high standards if you want that.
   
3. Perhaps no sex is better than shit sex. I used to be really good at dating and really good at communicating what I wanted so I used to have amazing one night stands as a result. But now I just can’t be bothered to make that effort, especially with men nearing their 30s. If I can’t find a woke boy who knows how to foreplay I think I’d rather go home and spend the night with feminist porn and my clit sucking vibrator instead.

BGD x