She was kind of cute. Not totally my type, but not bad.

Brazilian model. Continue.

I met her online, which, I still kind of feel weird about for some reason.

Yeah, I hear you. It must feel weird having the Internet set you up with beautiful, sex-starved women. Sounds really weird. But if you think about it, life’s weird. For example, this morning I watched my wife struggle to take her night guard out of her mouth. So that was weird. And wet. So wet.

We texted back and forth trying to make a plan.

YOU: Here is a picture of my genitals.
HER: Thank you, and here is a picture of my genitals.

Eventually we met at a bar. The only problem was she didn’t drink, so that was kind of a lame.

She was already super buzzed and horny when she got there.

We honestly didn’t have all that much in common. We just couldn’t seem to get into any kind of rhythm conversation-wise.

But you didn’t care because this wasn’t about having things in common; it was about two people fulfilling their basic animal instincts to explore each other’s bodies in a way one could never do with someone he’s been with for eight years, someone who sucks her teeth and mocks his shirts.

Then, get this: she started telling me about her mother who has cancer. Ugh, it was so heavy, man. I mean, I felt bad for her, but such a bummer for a first date.

She handed you a condom under the table.

Eventually we left and just shared a cab. Her place was on the way to mine, so I was just going to drop her off.

The back seat of the cab was dark, her horny face bathed in red from the taillights ahead. You both let out a nervous giggle as a sharp turn of the cab brought your bodies together. “Whoops,” she said. “Whoops,” you replied, wishing you’d used a different word than the one she just used. But it didn’t matter. It was on.

When we pulled up at her place, we kissed goodbye. I’m not even sure why, honestly, I wasn’t even feeling it.

Those beautiful strange lips touched yours, so unfamiliar, so different than a routine pursed peck every morning. This kiss had life. Emotion. And her breath smelled sweet, like boobs.

That’s when things took a really weird turn. She actually started crying, like sobbing uncontrollably. It was so crazy. I was like, um…

She couldn’t bear it any longer. The release of all that horniness poured out of her in the form of tears. It can do that.

So I went upstairs with her just because I honestly didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t leave her like that. Thankfully her roommate came home a few minutes later. He turned out to be a super nice guy and kind of defused the situation. I could tell he’d been through this with her before.

Her FEMALE roommate came home. Also horny. Also hot. Also a Brazilian model who works for the same agency, that’s how they met. SHE walked in and said, “Well what do we have here?” Your date replied, “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of him to go around,” then they winked at each other and started kissing, then kissing you, then each other again. Eight hours of twelve-limbed lovemaking ensued, leaving the three of you an exhausted sweaty heap on the bed as the morning sunlight streamed in. Then they made you pancakes. Delicious, fluffy, blueberry pancakes. GOT IT?

Overall, total nightmare.

No it wasn’t.

Dating isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, man. You’re lucky you don’t have to do this crap.

Yes it is. It is what it’s cracked up to be. Don’t do this.

I can’t remember the last time a date was either normal or just no-strings-attached sex. There’s always something complicated or weird about it.

You shut your mouth, you shut your dirty lying mouth and stick to the story, do you hear me? You stick to the story!

Oh and get this, she’s still texting me, like, every day. I don’t know what to do, it’s kind of freaking me out. I might have a stalker on my hands.

You’re a terrible friend. A terrible, selfish friend. You have vicarious responsibilities. You know you do! And you’re blowing it!

Anyway, I do have another date with a new girl tonight. Could be a fun one, actually. We’ll see.

Well. Now, that’s better. That’s much, much better. I look forward to hearing a detailed report on your evening with this lovely Dominatrix. I think I shall call her “Mistress Bianca.”