This Message MIGHT Self Destruct

a failed one night stand

already breaking the long-held (two week) tradition of Saturday posts. but I had to post this now because it’s quite, erm, intimate, and i’m punting myself up a mountain on Saturday so wouldn't be able to spontaneously delete if I had sudden-onset poster’s remorse. I can’t believe i’m about to email this story to 99 people.

warning: this is quite explicit

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I have never had a one night stand. note that sentence is written in present tense because I still have never had a one night stand. despite my recent efforts.

the reason up until now that I’ve never had a one night stand has been that I just don’t think they’re for me. they’ve never really appealed to me. great for other people, have often cheered on friends when they tell me their stories the morning after. but I just personally don’t think i’d really get anything from it.

however. I do kind of think it’s a bit of a rite of passage. I don’t necessarily want to go to my grave never having had a one night stand. so I thought this project—in which I am trying to connect with more people, expand my horizons and have more experiences—would be the perfect time to do it. I still haven’t met anyone to go on a date with, and I’m still opposed to dating apps, and the opportunity presented itself so why not give it a go?

the opportunity that presented itself did so at the weekend. there is this guy who, to keep things vague, we’d been in each other’s general orbit for the past week or so. he’s very pleasant to look at and we have a similar sense of humour. by which I mean he laughs at my jokes, and means it (the most attractive thing a man can do). after a night out where we’d spent the whole night chatting mostly to each other, he invited me back to his. and, where I would ordinarily have said oh sorry, no thank you, I instead said okay!

we were sitting next to each other on the sofa in his living room, fully clothed. I was wearing a wrap top so a kind of v-neck situation, far from being high-neck (this is important).

the tension was palpable, we both knew what we were there for. he leant towards me, touched his hand gently to my neck, and kissed me slowly, and I reciprocated. his hand moved down so it was resting on my thigh, then my hip, and, as his kissing became more urgent, he pulled me on top of him. so I was sitting on his lap, one knee on the sofa either side of him.

as we kissed, he moved his hands over my thighs, my hips and my waist. then, with one hand pressed to my lower back, he navigated the other up to my chest and, cupping his hand around one of my breasts, broke his mouth away from mine and bit down on the exposed skin of my upper breast. like, bit hard. if you imagine holding an apple in your hand and taking a bite, it was like that. then, immediately, before I could even react…

he, ahem, spilt his gentleman’s relish all over his trousers.

he then buried his face in my chest and cried.

at which point I didn't really know what to do with myself as this caused an immediate and drastic vibe-shift, both anatomically and atmospherically. so I moved myself to the side and sat next to him on the couch saying, it’s fine. no really, it’s fine. I made some small talk for a while, largely unreciprocated, and then, when I felt i’d waited long enough, I decided, for my own sanity, to leave.

NOW. let’s be clear.

crying? fine. we love a man who isn’t afraid to express his emotions. duh. would I have preferred those emotions not be expressed directly into my cleavage? sure. but are a few tears a night-ender? not necessarily.

quick-fire performance style? can’t be helped. it’s physical, biological, and i’m not about to pick a fight with either god or mother nature over a pair of messy pants that don’t even belong to me.

all this in combination with the absolutely out of nowhere with absolutely no warning tit-bite? therein lies the issue!! I have a bruise even now at time of writing! I have a ring of purple teeth marks on my left breast. if he happened to be in a disastrous plane crash today, authorities needn’t bother his dentist; I have a perfect copy of his dental record imprinted into my boob skin.

anyway, that was that. I think that might have satisfied my curiosity on the one night stand front. I think that was close enough that I don’t feel compelled to try again, at least not in the immediate future. but you never know! onwards with the project!

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crazy to be able to post something like this on the internet because none of you know who I am. quite liberating, actually. although I have told this story to at least six people (including my boss) irl because I think it’s funny (as did they). so if any of them happen to come across this, I suppose they’ll immediately know it’s me. but they won’t see this. because they don’t know what substack is (I repeat to myself over and over).