Just like any good Nicholas Sparks story, it all started on Tinder. About a month ago I was bored and decided to do some swiping from the comfort of my bed. As I robotically swiped left while watching someone else’s Netflix, I came across Jake. Just before I threw him into the metaphorical trash can, I paused. He was tall, skinny, and average looking, which is usually exactly what I go for. While his bio was standard (something about sports, food, and his hometown) I figured I’d give him a shot. I was bored and horny, and he was there and passable. It was the perfect makings for any romcom, and I was willing to settle on a guy with a penis so I pulled up my messages and sent him a text. A few minutes, some brief flirting, and we agreed to meet up the next night.
The night had finally arrived for me to meet Jake. He came over shortly after getting off work and after I had finished my second beer for the night. I was surprised to discover that Jake did not seem like the typical Tinder asshole. He was down to Earth, super nice, and offered to smoke me up, which I graciously had to decline because I had a drug test in the near future. We talked about school, the impending doom of graduation, and we even shared our post grad fears. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to find a job in the big city nearby, and he was having doubts about going to law school. I really felt like I could open up to Jake, and for a brief moment, I forgot this was just supposed to be a casual Tinder hookup. I had barely known the guy and already it felt like I had *gulp*… caught feelings.
After sitting and talking for a while, he finally kissed me. The kissing was average, of course (what do you expect from an average guy?) but it was good enough to make me want more. We connected on an emotional level, so maybe the physical stuff would just come with time, I naively thought to myself. We made the move to my bedroom upstairs and I silently prayed that his dick game would be as strong as his personality.
Once in my room, we started making out again and feeling each other up. Just as we were taking off our last article of clothing, Jake asked me for a blow job. I joyously replied agreed, because my blow job skills have always gotten me brownie points and momma was looking to get hers. Like clockwork, after a few minutes of knob slobbing, he offered to go down on me. Now I know it’s rare for girls to turn down oral, but I honestly hate it when guys go down on me, so I politely declined. I was over foreplay and ready to get to the good stuff, so I climbed up off my knees and onto the bed. I subtly reached for the condom he had placed on my end table and glanced up seductively while sliding it down his slightly above-average penis.
Jake put on his condom and we started doing the typical missionary position. I kid you not, within a minute he was worried about finishing. I tried it all — count backwards, thinking about your mom, but nothing worked. And thirty seconds later he was moaning and leaving me to wonder why a sex goddess like me ended up with someone so average in bed. After he removed the condom he said that he wanted to go again so I could have my chance. Thank God. Maybe this was a sign that he really wasn’t like every other Tinder asshole. He was mediocre in bed, but at least he made up for it in terms of effort.
As he was reaching for his clothes he said he would go get another condom from his car. I told him I have some in my bedside table, but he told me he only uses the kind he buys. This should have been a red flag, but I guess the pleasure center in my brain was so active that it drowned out the logical part of my brain. Weird, but I figured whatever. I was too anxious to get back to doing the dirty to care so I laid back as he reached for his keys and raced back down the stairs.
As I was sitting in bed, naked, awaiting his return, I heard my apartment door close. Confused, because I told him to make sure to keep it open, I peeped out of the window and into the parking lot. I saw Jake running to his car where, instead of fumbling around for a rubber, he was turning the ignition. Then he drove off.
I did not want to believe that this was happening to me at first so I just told myself that he was going to run to the gas station to get condoms, but once I went downstairs and saw my guest parking pass on the kitchen table I knew I had been ditched. I furiously texted him, calling him every word I could think. Although I was angry at first because he was so nice and he could have just told me he wanted to go rather than kept me waiting naked, I now find it just another humorous story to add to my collection of weird encounters.
So ladies remember, nice guys don’t always finish last. Sometimes they finish first and leave you naked in your bed. .
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