Dating Max

Last week I’d gone over to Max’s and we played tennis and then on to a show in the West End.  We didn’t see each other over the Easter weekend as we each had other plans.  On Monday morning, a bank holiday, he sent me the following text message:

Have found your tennis skirt and cut out hole in crotch for access during rematch 🙂 x 

ps not really, well not yet

pps predictive text for rematch is snatch, sorry to lower tone so early in the day

I replied that I enjoyed his lowered tones as the day had dawned with bright sunshine on a background of clear blue skies.  I was in a buoyant mood … until I tried to call him and there was no response.  Oh well, I left him a message teasing him about playing hard to get and went down to chat to my bees.  Just as I’d got my bee jacket on and was about to light the smoker pre-inspection my phone rings.

It was Max telling me he’d been for a walk before knuckling down to do some work.  I had a date with Dexter at half past two I tell him, a first date and Max invited me over to his that evening if I fancied it.  Of course I did I told him.  But I refused to arrange a time knowing what he was like about timekeeping.  When I was ready to leave the house for his I’d call him and he seemed satisfied with that. I got to his at around 8 and we messed about a little before and whilst the spaghetti was cooking, which resulted in it getting just a tad overcooked.  It wasn’t too bad and we tossed in some mozzarella, dried tomatoes, land cress, minced garlic and olive oil.  I grated some gruyere over mine.  M had wrinkled his nose at it earlier.  I had some cloudy sake which M also took a few tentative sips of, but he preferred water instead.  We watched an episode of Dinner Dates as we ate and went out later to get some ice cream and chocolate.  I can see myself getting rounder the longer I continued hanging out with M.

The sex was pretty good considering I wasn’t really in the mood for it.  M said that he felt randier the less randy I was, something about his confidence increasing with lowered expectations on my part.  We’d wanted to try some bum sex since we could remember and finally achieved it in the morning.  I was mildly surprised that it didn’t hurt since M was the most well-endowed of my current coterie of lovers.  Neither of us had had much sleep through the night and M accused me of rendering him ineffectual in the face of his dates the following day with two different women, both of whom he’d slept with in the past, the one he was seeing for lunch at her flat was a past lover, the other for tea, by accident for some awareness-raising project several years previously. He had told another ex-girlfriend recently about me and she expressed mild astonishment that M continued to sleep with me given that I was also having sex with several other men.  His indifference to my promiscuity is confirmation that he is a true feminist.   I am determined not to lose my heart in this relationship and continue to date and sleep with the others.

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