Date #3 – 52 First Dates

© Bernardo Baldiviezo 2011

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting a huge amount from this date. French/Moroccan, 25, financier. We met on Grindr MONTHS ago but nothing had developed. We’d had the obligatory ‘what you into’ conversation, swapped more than a few very intimate photos, and I even had a nickname already (taupe/moley due to my habit of not leaving the house for days at a time). There was nothing to make me think that we were incompatible, but the mere fact that we hadn’t rushed out to meet made me think it was a mobile friendship that would never grow. Plus, i’d somehow got it into my mind that this guy was a slightly chubby, young and over excited newbie gay.

My preconceptions were shattered when I was met by this beaming, Moroccan face exuding French charm. His accent was hot, his smile infectious and whilst the weather was a washout I was fast doing a 180 on my thoughts that the date was going to be too.

Hot chocolate was on the menu as I quickly discovered that date 3 didn’t drink (how the hell was I going to explain away my recycling bin overflowing with red wine bottles?) I must admit, in the same way that date 2’s faith didn’t really fit with my farming upbringing and chicken keeping ways, I was slightly concerned that married life could see me, the wino, lying on the sofa with an empty bottle and red lips whilst the husband irritatedly cleared up around me. Another thing I found slightly odd was that he’d never been to a gay bar or club…leading to the revelation that he was bi and also not out. This was slightly peturbing as I am looking for a man that not only can I show off to my friends and family, but actually do couply things whilst being affectionate in public.  However, conversation flowed well and apart from a few silences where, had we been in a gay bar we’d have been kissing, I had a very enjoyable date.

This was no “I need you in my bed now so we can fuck like no one has ever fucked before” kinda date. But, after three and a half hours of non alcholic fuelled conversation I still wanted to kiss him. However, I think PDA’s were out of the question so we man hugged it out before having a stumbled continental kiss which ended up with me pecking his earlobe instead of his cheek between the platforms at Bank. There were arm touches, shoulders grips and a subtle feeling of each other’s abs before we parted ways. And whilst this may be a slow burner and I can foresee a non perfect match, I’ve already totally forgotten what he looks like which means I most definately like him.

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