He Who Hesitates... Part Two

November 14, 2011 by

 He who Hesitates...Part Two This little mink, Candace, is kinda like me: out meeting people and writing about it. Candace has a personal website where she goes out on dates and then blogs about it. I tell her I do the same and she smiles at me. Now we’ve got something very personal in common. I put my hand on her ass and squeeze it to seal the deal. It was firm.

Date comes back at just the right moment, carrying three drinks in two hands, looking proud of himself. He sees my hand on her ass, Candace leaning close to smell my cologne (Dolce & Gabbana Classic), and his face falls. She takes the drink from him like he’s a waiter, saying nothing. I take the vodka from him, but don’t drink it; the poor guy’s had enough.

I nod my thanks to Date and excuse myself, citing an early meeting the next day, and ask Candace to walk me to the door. She’s already leading me out before I’m finished asking the question.

At the door, she leans in and kisses me deeply, her hands squeeze my ass hard and I feel her pelvis rubbing against me. My breath is hot in her ear as I tell her to go back in, apologize to Date for acting this way, and to tell him that I would be taking her home that night. She is damn near drooling at this point (every woman I’ve ever met respects quiet confidence, see Blog #6: It’s How You Say It). I tell her I’ll get a cab and wait for her there. She hurries back into the club.

I don’t steal women (as if one could). That is not cool. Date may have acted like a dick, sure, but he was just trying to protect something he cared about. I wasn’t going to take shit from him, but I also wasn’t going to have sex with his date right in front of him.

Candace goes in and tells Date, and hopefully apologizes like I told her to. Date hopefully told her off a bit and took back a bit of his dignity. So Candace leaves him alone at the bar, goes and gets her coat and hurries outside, horny and eager. She exits the club to find a row of empty cabs lined up waiting, and almost no people on the sidewalk—including me. Enthusiasm fades to confusion, then darkens into bleak reality. At least that’s what I imagine—I was already gone, alone in a taxi on my way home, feeling very good about my brief role in both their lives.

Harsh? Where I differ from Candace is that I am honest about what I’m up to. I don’t like women who use men they don’t care about for food and drinks or to simply meet a deadline.

Let her write about that.

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