Let’s just start by saying I have no problem with small dicks.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as long as you know how to use it or are good at other things, we’re gonna have fun.
This just so happened to be an unfortunate one night stand where I started (or so I thought) to slowly establish my standards sex wife. At least…as well enough as one can be for being mildly intoxicated.
He was moderately decent at conversation, but one of those people who will happily answer all of your questions, but doesn’t have the decency to return the favour. I should have seen that as a sign. Continue reading
Irish, 6’8. He was from County Donegal which means I understood every third sentence, add an extensive amount of rye and that plummeted to maybe every third word.
The night before the movers came to pack up the bits of furniture and boxes from my old apartment, clearing away the evidence of the Dark Weeks, we decided to go out for celebratory drinks at what would be my new local.
Honestly this was probably the most enjoyable one night stand I’ve had, it was just fun.
This was not a night I was supposed to go out. Wasn’t supposed to have sex, in fact I remember intentionally not shaving my legs so I didn’t take anyone home…
Please note this was 7:54am.
Let the audience note that I paid for tinder plus so I could rewind my swipe for this one.
I had seen Rodeo recently at a country bar and I decided that anyone who can throw a girl around like that, A) Must be a gentleman. B) Must be fantastic in the sack.
Oh Hayley, you optimistic asshole.
Everything about this guy screamed ‘no feelings’, so it was perfect.
Steely blue eyes, small frame but everything was hard. Ridiculous amount of muscles to the point it almost made me uncomfortable, but when he approached me I was so drunk, and by the time we started having sex we were half way into it before I realized he didn’t have any body fat.
Russian only got pleasure from three things: Weed, video games and porn. Maybe working out, but he almost did that as an obsessive routine.
I always kind of sensed if given opportunities, he would be the next Norman Bates. Continue reading
I haven’t been single in almost five years.
I’m aware that’s not really a big deal and it doesn’t really bother me. What bothers me is I feel like I’ve missed out on so much. All the energy, time and money wasted on something, someone, that really didn’t appreciate me. As several friends have already proclaimed, “How were you in a relationship for five years?!”
I thought we were happy. I foolishly thought we were building the stepping-stones of our relationship…I wasn’t smart enough to demand more for myself.
This isn’t going to be a ‘Bash the Ex’ series. There’s no point.
Karma is going to work itself out for what that piece of garbage has done to me.
I used to think that my ex and I were going to have this year of growth, personal development…he would finally learn how to drive, get his drinking under control, learn to cook…dare I say, appreciate that I used to do everything, and maybe we find our way back to each other.
Now we enter what I and several close friends have affectionately labelled, ‘The Slutty Phase’. This didn’t initially being as a dick catching mission, add a lot of alcohol, and anything is possible.
That being said…let’s introduce Exhibit A: The Russian.