I wasn’t going to write about this one but then he spotted some of my posts on Facebook and insisted that I didn’t write about him. So I’m  promptly ignoring him

I met him on one of those chatty chatty sex sites where everyone calls you babe and tells you how horny they are. They all want to send you videos of them wanking and think that porn is staple TV viewing. Bored with the predictable I was pleasantly surprised when he just said hi and chatted like a normal person as opposed to one who was in mid stroke / porn climax. Reading his profile he seemed fine except the location. WATFORD!!! Urgh.

Now, I have my rule about travelling more than 45 minutes for dating or sex. It sounds harsh in a city where everywhere takes an hour to get to but a girl has to try. However he hadn’t annoyed me in 3 hours so I jumped onto National Rail to check out the travel times. Hmmm, it sounds far but door to door I could do it on the train in 44 minutes. This included him picking me up at the airport. I mean, train station which he said he was more than happy to do. He even had the decency to tell me in advance that he had lied on his profile and wasn’t 38. He was 46. This was after I told him that the one thing I couldn’t abide was a man who lied. So there was an age gap too. This wasn’t looking good at all. One dinner and I was flying back to London.

I wasn’t expecting much at all but he was lovely.  He let me have the remote control and was always available. He also warmed the sheets for me as I have developed severe separation anxiety from Lekky, my electric blanket. He constantly had snacks and hot water and it was really the ideal set up. So much so that one night I found myself calling my boyfriend Addison Lee and paying to get up there. That’s when I realised that my reasons for not travelling more than 45 minutes also needed to be financial. I was clearly in the middle of a dating recession.

He shared his own dating woes and I realised that women weren’t the only ones that hard it tough. What’s with women over sharing on the gynaecological issues? Men don’t care. It’s either you are going to shag or you aren’t.

Things were going well with regular no pressured sex ups. It helped that we supported the same football team when Champions League was on and were both divorced so no silly divorce questions. But then birthdays came and  we had to tell each other what we wanted. I honestly can’t remember what I wanted but he wanted to buy me a gigolo. Such a thoughtful gift but I wasn’t going to let a lover choose another lover. Then he said what he would like…..a 3sum.

YAWN! I wasn’t adverse to the idea but here’s the thing. They aren’t that easy to organise. But he was such a sweet that I went straight into girl with a plan mode. I found an ad for another girl who was looking for a 3sum and I said that I would be willing to be the guest star for her show if she would reciprocate. It was a done deal. I told him all about it and he started to get excited but then after the 3sum I wasn’t keen on seeing her again.

Watford Gap said he understood but let’s face it. I hadn’t delivered on my gift promise. A night in watching Justin Slayer with 2 Brazilian girls just isn’t the same as doing it yourself.

Like all good things it ended. Casual sex just wasn’t going to cut it when the pressure was on for me to deliver grandbabies. But, every time I travel through Watford Junction I think of him warming the sheets for me ….and it warms my heart a little

See, they aren’t all bad are they ?

© Chelsea Black

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