My Bad Part I

I should never have met up with him.

Last week, while waiting not-so-patiently for Mr. X to grace me with his sexy, laid back presence again and finish what we had started (No, we didn’t have complete, full-on sex the first time. Why, you ask? None of your damn business (yet, anyway)! And call me sentimental but I did want to pop my “NSA-meeting-online-sexting-website-sex” cherry with him (after all, he was the first naked guy I had seen in 9 months, my first sexting partner, first dirty photo recipient, first Online-Random-Hook-up … okay, I think you got the point), so I didn’t agree to meet any other guys but I did get chatting to several, one of whom was a lawyer, so let’s just call him: “The Lawyer”.

(Original, I know, huh?)

Hmmm … Girls, don’t quote me on this … but my personal thought of the day: NEVER use your mind / intellect as a gauge for sexual attraction.

But I did. And OMG did I pay for it! Anyway, as I said before … My Bad! … Totally!

The Lawyer was pretty persistent and kept pestering me to meet him. He even went so far as to invite me for a coffee and show up at his proposed meeting place, without me even having replied to - let alone seen - the invitation (no, I am not permanently online).

When I finally surfaced around midday last week some time, I opened his message to find that only a few hours before he had been waiting for me down the hill in the tea garden of a discreet, upmarket hotel.

Later on I received this email from him:

“I went to the venue of our secret rendezvous. I sipped my red wine and perused a volume of the Funk and Wagnall Standard Encyclopedia (F-G). Did you know that the slang term "gat" for a gun derives from the name of Mr. Gatling, the inventor of the gatling gun? Or that Gauguin was an influence on Edvard Munch (he of the The Scream)? … Anyway, the ball is in your court now.”

And, although I should have been slightly offended that he was under the impression that I needed a little lesson in Art History (everyone knows Munch, dude!), I was totally hooked. I mean, I cannot even count on one hand the number of people (apart from my immediate family) that take a book out with them. And coming from a family of readers, I am ever so slightly wary of people who don’t read (Mr. X only liked fantasy novels, nothing else … Hmmm, should have seen the warning signs!).

So I emailed and agreed to meet him for lunch the following day.

He replied with a laconic:

“And if you don’t show up, I was planning a return anyway to study the Goths …”

Oh! Yes! … I was now well and truly turned on:  witty, laid back AND he had taken his pseudonym from “Tom Brown’s Schooldays” …

This was so hot. Especially after the recent messages I had been receiving on The Sexy Site.

Like: Andre, 45 (on Sunday … and no, the alliteration did not make it hotter):

"Want a Sunday shag?"

Or Danie , 43,

“Want to chat about sex”

Hang on. I’m confused. What am I supposed to say here? What was that anyway? A question or a statement?

Or Kagi, 24 who, I can only assume, was referring to my breasts in my profile picture since he didn’t elaborate any further than these 5 words:

"I wanna lick on those"

But my personal best (or unqualified, cringe-making total worst?) from Garth, 37:

"Gud afternoon my lady and art thou today???"

WTF?!!! Seriously? That doesn’t even mean anything.

So yes, I was totally ready and willing to meet … The Lawyer.

x