My First Outside Date in 40 Years Was Like Screwing a Puppy
Chronicle of an Open Marriage #23
I finally decided “enough of this nonsense” and set up a date with a much younger man. Here I am, 67, monogamous for 40 years, and the prospect of having sex with someone who wasn’t my husband was taking up way too much real estate in my mind. Mostly, I felt anxious about it. But it was still a boundary I wanted to cross. We’d opened our marriage in December. Hubs had been with four different lovers multiple times and was lining up a fifth. What was I waiting for?!
I should have known better. Never decide your course of action based on what other people are doing. Silly me…
If you’ve been following my story, you know I had a particular outside lover all lined up, and had been sexting and video chatting with him for weeks. That hookup would have been satisfying, no doubt. But when his wife pulled the plug, I got a bit frantic. So I asked three of the many men (more than 100!) who’d “liked” me on a dating app to come over and f*ck. First one, who never responded. Then another, who didn’t respond for three days. Then the third, who said he would be over shortly…
Why women ignore red flags
We had a video chat first, to do a “chemistry check.” That’s what my friend Bethany told me younger people do in this app-based dating environment. Pics first, then voice, then video. If all that seems acceptable, then arrange to meet in person.
And I knew on the video chat that he wasn’t going to be my dream date. He looked different than his pictures, wider and hairier. He had a small smile that was too self-conscious. He wasn’t at ease in his skin.
Our talk was mostly about logistics — businesslike. It didn’t get me the tiniest bit hot, and one question actually repelled me. “Are you clean down there?” So insulting! But when I asked what he meant by that, it turned out he meant shaven — which was also a turn-off to this old hippie.
That was an obvious red flag, and a wiser woman would have called it off right then. But I was driven, a bit manic, determined to set things in motion. And when he asked, “Do you like me?” What was I going to say?
I discussed this problem later with my husband. How do you bow out if you decide that you don’t like a potential hookup? (I should mention here that Hubs has never met a hookup he didn’t like, which has forced me to reconsider just how “special” I really am…) Hubs suggested saying “I’ll text you my address” or “Let me check the time with my husband” and then just disappear. But that’s impolite!
And would having a potential partner disappear really be preferable to hearing “I don’t think we’re a good match?” Personally, I’d rather hear the truth than be ghosted. Instead of disappearing, I should develop my backbone — learn to subvert my feminine socialization which prompts me to flatter and prop up men.
Another question that surprised me during the “chemistry check” was “when did you last have sex?” When I answered “this morning,” we both looked perplexed. Why was he asking that? I wondered, but didn’t ask, so I guess we’ll never know. Because in any case, we set up the date for a couple of hours hence and I started tidying up the apartment.
Next, he texted to ask what I like to drink and I responded that I usually drink champagne or prosecco. Then he asked if I had a store near my apartment because he didn’t have one near his. I named a store, and he asked if I’d want to pick up the refreshments myself.
Unbelievable. So clumsy! Note to would-be Casanovas: If you are NOT going to buy a lady a drink, do not ask what she’s drinking!
Hubs, who can be a gentleman when prompted, and who was honestly more excited about my date than I was (and actually said — because he’s completely shameless — that he wanted to suck another man’s cum out of my punana), went to the store and bought me a bottle of champagne.
“Can’t you go?” he asked when I requested the store trip.
“No!” I shouted at him hysterically, like a teen getting ready for prom. “I have to take a shower!!!”
How you DON’T want your date to go
About an hour later I realized that meeting this man was a terrible idea and tried to call off the date. (I’m a slow processor.) But he responded by saying “Let’s just meet and chat. We don’t have to hook up.” That put me at ease, so I suggested we meet at a bar or a coffee shop halfway between our apartments. But he was eager to come to my place so we could be more comfortable and maybe “get into some mischief.” I gave the green light.
When he showed up, I poured us each a glass of champagne and we sat down on the couch. He had suggested we would chat and get to know each other, but before two minutes passed he was all over me, and that train never stopped. He couldn’t slow down, savor, enjoy, develop. Instead, he climbed on top of me and grabbed my breasts— too hard. He was so eager and unrestrained that he actually bumped his teeth into mine when kissing!
“Wait a minute,” I said after the teeth collision. “Let’s try this another way.” And I climbed on top of his lap instead. That was a little better. I had more control. But there seemed to be no way to slow down the pace. He grabbed my ass cheeks and shook them frenetically. And despite describing himself as an empath in his profile, he paid no attention to how I was (not) responding to him.
After a few minutes more of trying to quell his urgency, I was over it. It was clear that our rhythms were never going to align.
Could I have called it off then? Probably. But it would have taken a lot of negotiation and equivocation. And I didn’t feel like tap dancing. It seemed easier to just lay down on the living room floor. “Come on, let’s go,” I said, and then he put his hard cock inside me. I pinched his nipples and that did the trick.
Afterward, he lingered longer than I wanted him to, talking of life and politics, and I got the impression that he was “adulting.”
At this point, you might be wondering just how young this man was. His profile said 31. He told me he’d been married for six years, and polyamorous for five of them. But when I recounted the comedy of errors to my husband, he suggested the man might have made those details up.
“He’s probably never f*cked a woman before!” Hubs said, laughing. “He probably wants to hook up with older women so they can teach him how to have sex.”
Hubs asked what I would rate the experience on a scale of 1–10, and I said a 3. Whereas sitting on the couch alone and reading is a 6…
Then he asked if I would write about it, and I answered probably. He worried that the story would hurt the man’s feelings. But my date won’t see this story. He doesn’t know I’m a writer, and I used a different name on the app. For those who know I write, like Hubs and Hungry Man, I ask permission before sharing. But even if my date did stumble on this story, wouldn’t it be instructive? How much protection does a man’s ego need?
The Takeaway
So that was my uninspiring first foray into polyamory, which was quite similar (minus the trauma) to my first foray into intercourse back in the day. Maybe I’m just not good at sex? That seems possible, except that recently, since we opened our marriage, sex with Hubs has been satisfying on all the levels.
Overall, I’m glad I crossed the “virginity” boundary, even if the interaction wasn’t all that. Now I can be more grounded — more myself — in my sexual explorations. And since I’m basically an optimist, I’ll try again.
Here are a few things I hope to keep in mind in the future:
- Older women are desirable. Don’t doubt!
- Younger men aren’t necessarily as delicious as they look.
- Don’t invite a date to your apartment the first time you’re meeting in person.
- Think about an exit strategy beforehand, for every stage of the interaction, in case things turn south.
- If at first you don’t succeed…
What happened next? Read Chronicle of an Open Marriage #24. Find all of my stories about opening our marriage on the list below, or about sex in general on this one. Get an email whenever I publish. And have a pleasurable day.
