A little over nine weeks ago I had found myself back on the notorious online dating site, Plenty of Fish. Not that my fishing skills had proved up to much of late. I’d abandoned the alleged naval gentleman I’d been messaging, something just didn’t feel right about him, so I decided to dust off my rod again and see if I could net myself someone with a little more promise.

I had plenty of interest and I messaged a handful to see what transpired. One message sat in my inbox for a few days. Although I didn’t immediately respond to it, I was impressed that the sender had copied and pasted my profile picture and added the caption “I like the look”. It had taken more effort than a simple ‘hello’ and I assumed from the comment that he did in fact like the look of me. I scanned his profile, looked at his lone photograph (a very formal graduation shot – taken from some distance so it was near impossible to distinguish his facial features) but I kept coming back to one thing; he was only seeking friendship and fun. I’d literally rejected a guy a couple of days before because he was only up for being my fuck buddy, yet for some reason on a Friday teatime in early October, I decided to contact Graduation Man.

I’ve become so accustomed to guys messaging forever, that I was totally unprepared for Graduation Man to invite me to meet him that evening. I agreed, but I was concerned. I didn’t have time for a bath, I hadn’t shaved my legs, in fact I only just had time to change out of my scruffy jeans and put something half decent on. No pretty undies, no niceties, just tidy myself up a little and go. He took me to McDonalds. I still tease him about being mindful what you get free with a happy meal. He’s been stuck with me since!

I never envisaged leaving the restaurant with him. My common sense tells me you don’t go back to the home of a guy you’ve just met. But I guess we just clicked. There was obvious mutual attraction and conversation flowed so easily. I messaged a friend to let him know I was on a date and going with the guy back to his place, he simply warned me, ‘Be careful’. Yet I didn’t feel I was taking a risk, so at ease, already, was I with Graduation Man.

His home was modern and immaculate (in stark contrast to mine). We sat on the sofa, drank tea and watched rubbish television. When he slipped his arm around my shoulder I was totally relaxed with him. As he gently stroked my hair I let my head sink into his shoulder. Twice he asked if I was falling asleep on him, as I was so utterly chilled. I felt completely safe, and perfectly cherished. At around 10 o’clock, out of nowhere, I announced that I needed to make a decision whether I should set off for home, or would he like me to stay? I think my boldness probably surprised us both to an extent, and yet not, because it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Once we’d established I was going to stay, things completely ramped up a gear. I remember the moment as we held each other, hands roaming each other’s bodies, when my mouth sought his, and we kissed for the first time. I wasn’t disappointed. The sexual tension was palpable. Soon he led me by the hand up the stairs. Two things happened that night that are out of the ordinary for me. First, during the course of our lovemaking, he brought me to orgasm. Twice. (I’m notoriously bad for never being relaxed enough to get there when I’m with a partner). And secondly, after; I slept. I think it’s safe to say that this all pretty much blew my mind. I think I decided more or less there and then that if friendship and fun was this good, I could live with it.

Little did I know that was just the beginning of a voyage of discovery that is ongoing. It was been a whirlwind of new, pleasurable experiences. But that’s a whole other blog.

Thanks for reading.

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