I call this one the boy because, at the tender age of 20, that’s what he is. I was somewhat tentative about meeting him but he had good chat so I thought why not? When we met at King’s Cross I instantly thought he had a young face. Then he spoke. Brilliant. He had a young voice, too. But he was cute so off we headed for coffee. We sat down and I asked him what he wanted. He asked why I was offering to treat him. I deflected the question as I didn’t want to tell him it was essentially because he was a child and I couldn’t let him buy me anything. When I came back with our drinks, the first thing he said to me was
You have really long legs
I was so in there. Coffee was nice; we chatted and flirted for a couple of hours until he said that I should come back to his. I countered with suggesting we go to a museum instead. This was quickly shot down. He grabbed my hand, pulled me up, picked up my jacket and lead me towards the door. How could I say no to that?
Being 20, he is still a student. But he’s currently on a placement year, though still living in a student house and living like 20 year olds do. After searching his kitchen for something to drink, he found a bottle of Sours at the back of a cupboard with no lid on it. He handed me the bottle.
I’m an adult. I can’t drink that.
We ended up watching Supersize Me. Least sexy movie ever. Obviously my super sexiness countered this though and he was all over me. So the boy is super fit. Like his body is just solid. He does one arm pull-ups like Arrow. LIKE GREEN ARROW! If that means nothing to you, you’re lame. So I was a little self concious about getting naked – think Emma Stone telling Ryan Gosling it’s like he’s photoshopped in Crazy, Stupid, Love, except neither of us are that hot.
Plus, I didn’t want to sleep with him after having slept with the American a couple of days before. He was having none of that, though. The boy was strong. And rough. And super dominant. He backed me into a corner and pinned my arms above my head, demanding I do as he say and take off my jumper. Now, I think of myself as a strong girl; I can hold my own. But the boy had me. He picked me up, threw me around, pulled my hair, bruised the shit out of my torso, and it was crazy hot. The boy was a man. Naturally, things started to escalate. I then so delightfully put a stop to them by announcing that I needed to pee. He was thrilled.
Upon my return we decided to have dinner. Having already looked around his kitchen I knew the options weren’t going to be great. I don’t want to give much attention to this part of the evening. He made me egg fried rice. Enough said.
After dinner we quickly picked up where we had left off. No surprise there. But he had no condoms. I was somehow super sensible and restrained and didn’t have sex with him. Huge surprise there – even I was shocked at myself! Honestly, I went into the date not expecting much, but I had a really good time. He’s still a kid; he exudes that youthful flippancy and indifference that’s just tiring once you’ve grown out of it, but he’s pretty cool. He earned a reply when he messaged me the next day, and we are still talking.
So! Let’s evaluate the past four weeks, shall we? Here’s what I set out to do, and what I did do is in bold:
- ten dates – went on seven
- not pussy out of talking to cute boys at bars (post coming shortly) – every time I was at a bar I was already on a date! Fail
- bang two new people – banged one, although could have easily been more
- learn how to do the splits – didn’t even try
- dance more – every day in my room, bitches
- have one last incurable hangover – haven’t been out once! Tragic
- sort my shit out – not even a little bit
As you can see, I wasn’t that successful. And now I am 23 and super responsible and dignified. We’re going out for my birthday tonight. I’m obviously not going to embarrass myself in any way and will execute the night with shit loads of modesty and grace. Watch this space.