A few years ago I had just got out of a messy relationship and was on the rebound for love. I was looking for love in all the wrong places and was routinely settling for men that I knew I could do better than. But despite my lack of stability in finding love, I still attempted.
One afternoon I met this modestly cute man named Mike. My girl-friend lived in the Festival Tower Condos and had a wonderful roof-top pool. So while we were lounging and drinking some home-made pina coladas I was approached by Mike. He was fairly simple looking and wearing a frumpy pair of swim trunks, yet he still had the courage to approach me and the girls. We started talking, which led to flirting, which led to him asking, “Would you like to come to my condo for a drink?”
Thanks to those very strong pina coladas, the next thing I remember is Mike throwing me on to his bed as we started the dirty tango. The foreplay was awkward and felt forced. I am sure he is nervous, the sex will be better. Then he went down on me. The only thing running through my mind was how much better I could pleasure myself. Then when we finally had sex, it was the most boring intercourse I have ever had.
Mike fell asleep beside me with a huge grin of satisfaction on his face. He has to be an idiot to believe that I enjoyed sex with him or that I could even cum with that sloppy sex technique of his. I left while he was sleeping and did the only thing I knew to do in a situation like this… I called my mom.
After explaining the whole ordeal to my mother I was considering going on another date with Mike. I was so focused on finding love that I was willing to result to a life of boring-ass sex … or no sex. Then my mom gave her famous words of wisdom, “Well if the sex is bad now, it probably won’t get better!”