The very first time I went out with a guy, he took me to a dark alley and I thought he was going to kill me. Turns out, there was actually a hidden/ unmarked underground club in the back of the alley and he didn't kill me after all. Yay for not dying! I quite liked that part, myself. The guy turned out ok too, but my favorite was not dying.
Wow very powerful and speaks volumes. A good date is one we survive. Which even if we are not in general fearful we know there might be a possibility we will not. A few times I have chosen unwisely and got afraid and was only too glad to do everything he wanted just so I could get out of there alive and get home.
Back in my early twenties I went to the movies with two girls. I guess they thought I was pretty harmless. They were friends and I sat between them with my arms around them and it was great. Then later I stayed overnight at their place and we all slept in the same bed as I cuddled with one of them. One of my friends saw my vehicle at their house overnight and then everyone thought that I was hooking up with both of them. LoL! I had a reputation after that. : )
This post was edited by Summer at June 19, 2018 9:40 AM MDT
I have been on dates like being asked out to do something but mostly with me it was just informally hanging out with people and things just happened from there. But once when I was 20 and working as a waitress in a small restaurant, part of a motel, these two clean-cut 40ish guys staying upstairs approached me and one leaned against the side of the doorway blocking my way and asked me if I wanted a "date for breakfast". They were of course married and working on the road and just looking for a girl for the night but I liked their looks and trusted them and at the time I had no boyfriend or SO so I agreed to meet them after work. They tried to be very nice to me asking me questions about myself but I just wanted to get things going so I would not feel so self-conscious. They both took their time with me and I came several times with the dark-haired one and stayed the night with them. Next morning they did buy me breakfast across the street after which I went home to my lonely apartment and cried and cried.
Guess that was not so "weird" at all. But 40 years later I still think about it and recall it fondly.
This post was edited by officegirl at June 19, 2018 9:40 AM MDT
Yes, office girl, I wonder the same thing. You've written on here before that from about age 17 you were already living that type of lifestyle. The tears were out of tenderness, right?
And just what do you understand by "that type of lifestyle"? What "type of lifestyle"? I left home when I was 17.
Perhaps some men don't understand. We are made for relationships, for love, and I was alone. Which the intimacy, enjoyment, and connection I felt the previous evening made me acutely aware of as soon as I was alone again. I had felt so connected and loved in spite of myself and now I was no longer.
In response to your comment where you said "Perhaps some men don't understand." I guess I don't quite understand how you felt loved and connected having sex with two strangers at the same time. I haven't done that, but I'll just take your word for it. I feel like I would need more time with one individual to bond in order to feel loved and connected. I get that you were feeling lonely though.
This post was edited by Summer at June 20, 2018 5:25 AM MDT
When sex is good we feel cared for and connected and our heart goes out to them. They were manly, good looking, clean-cut, and nice to me so I guess I started sort of falling in love with them. Even though of course I knew I would never see them again. But something like that - of course we want it to happen again - and again and again and again. So the feeling is OK I want to be theirs but I knew I was not and I would not be with them again. Which when you have had that connection and pleasure and strokes and have loved like that and then you are left alone of course it was a let-down.
Now remembering how I felt with them always helps me get up there when I need to push myself a little. Even though was years ago - I was only 20 then. But some times you just remember - who knows why? They live in your memory.
Just Asking 