stats: 27 year old, traveler, in saigon for one day
the date, round 1: he opened with "i hear women from new york are man eaters ;)" to which i retorted, "care to find out?"...a few hours of infrequent banter later, and i have agreed to squeeze in a drink with him before i have to go meet my friends later that night. as i'm finishing up my class, i message him to ask where he is. he's in a super loud, awful sports bar on bui vien. bah, they serve wine and it's nearby to where i am planning to escape to after the date. i tell him to hold tight; i'll be there in 20 or so. he asks what i drink."white wine," i type back as i head out the door...so now i know going in, at least he's down to buy me a few post 13 hour work day dranks. sweet.
i spot him right near the door to the bar, and take a seat on the stool opposite him. upon arrival i can gather: he's physically fit as fuck (later confirmed by him telling me he's semi-pro in cricket); he's most likely bald as fuck, but whatever--been there, done that (it's not that weird having a cue ball between your legs); he certainly has a few "bro" friends, although he himself doesn't seem quite deserving of that insult; he's not from london, or any other uber urban place; he's fucking clueless.
i proceed to down three glasses of wine before telling him that i have to split to go meet my friends. i kissed him goodbye, and as that act was being carried out this man was brazen enough to ask if i would like to perhaps meet up at his hotel later. i told him i would let him know, but let's fucking face it: i had been in an accident and was out of commission for two weeks. now i was healed up and ready to go: i needed to get banged out. badly.
i go meet up with my friends, then reconfirm with him that he can stop prowling, i'll be by in two hours. i am having a pretty good time with my crew, so i later suggest he just meet me there--reasons being numerous: i'll get another free drink from him, not have to pay for the cab back to his hotel, make less of an effort, and i can gauge if he's a total tool or not by seeing him interact with my friends. seems like a stellar idea, right?
pfft. get ready for this shit.
the date, round 2: he rocks up and isn't needy per se, but is showing signs and symptoms of being insanely horny. for instance, he snaps my thong through my skirt as i pass him at the bar (amazing accuracy in grabbing that g-string though; gotta give him douche-bag points/props for that.) he also verbally requests that i "bite [his] bottom lip," another time when i'm standing near to him. this guy's a fucking piece of work, and i should have probably seen the warning signs at this point. he's hot, but he's not that hot; however, i'm horny, and i am that horny.
in addition to his general disregard for weekday societal standards of pda, homeboy is spatially challenged in the most fantastically appalling way. i initially deduced this when he admitted to paying 80,000 dong (about 6 times the price a cab should've been) to get from where i had left him to where i later was. somehow the cab driver just drove him around and around without him being aware, even though he has an iphone, and therefore maps. not to mention, i had already told him more than thrice that the place was literally three blocks away. the same idiocy rears its ugly head as we head back to his hotel, as well. he is basically wandering around a city without any clue as to the address of his hotel, nor understanding even the two block radius around his hotel. pathetic.
the sex: we pretty much immediately go at it. my clothes are in danger of being torn off by his unrestrained enthusiasm, but for some reason he feels that he looks hotter in his now opened, button-down plaid shirt and nothing else than he would in his plain birthday suit. (at least he took his socks off; that's a deal breaker, gentlemen.) his body is fucking nice, so i just focus on that and kind of pretend i'd never exchanged chat with him. if i don't go to this special place of ignorant objectification, i surely won't cum.
he knows what he's doing, and gets me off a couple of times before we have sex. after my second wooohaaaaa, i ask him to grab a condom, to which he adolescently mutters, "ohhh...i hate condoms!" (in, i imagine, a tone akin to him telling his mother "ohhh...i hate broccoli!")
this juvenile, useless comment aside, he retrieves some from his luggage and we proceed to the next logical stage. again, he knows what he's doing, i stay in my special place and all goes pretty fucking well.
i do my usual post-coital run to the bathroom and come back to bed. he has now ironically removed his abercrombiesque looking shirt, and signals for me to cuddle up under his arm as we watch and discuss the hong kong riots being televised. i start to doze off pretty quickly as he was telling me some yarn of a tale about his friend's sister (who gives a fuck?), when he comments, "ohhh, you're not listening, ha...well i'll just keep talking while you fall asleep." fine, whatever. tuning you out has become second nature by now.
i fall into a deeper sleep--for about ten minutes--but am then woken up by my nipple being tortured and pulled out as if he was a chronically dehydrated marathon runner trying to open up a sportsbottle. i am still pretty asleep, despite the manhandling, so i simply give a "nooo" grunt and wiggle a bit. he then starts gently touching me, which is fine enough, but i guess that gets him amped up again, so i am then again woken up by him touching my inner thighs. i roll over, say "no" in a more pronounced manner and fall asleep once again. this signals him to begin spooning me and therefore his rock hard cock starts exploring my lady parts--unprotected, mind you--so once again i say, "i'm asleep. not now." he childishly questions, "well, can we go again in the morning, then?" to which i say "fine, but just stop fucking touching me."
not even a minute later he's grabbing on my parts again, and this time i shoot up out of bed and begin gathering my clothes. he sits up alert with puppy dog eyes and begs for me to stay, promising he won't even sleep near me, but not to leave at such an awful time and on these terms. i reluctantly return to bed, and thankfully he keeps his promise. (in retrospect, i should have most certainly taken my drunken chances on the streets at 4am, but i figured he was pretty harmless. horny and infantile, yes; a rapist, no.)
waking up at about 7am to use the bathroom initiates another round in the sack, which was again quite good despite the twelve minutes of unwanted attention a few hours before. i was, nevertheless, now slightly vehement and despite my early morning grog i made sure to leave claw marks all over his back and bite him to the point of him letting out unhappy shrills. i promptly exit after this go, however, as i am satiated and only want to get away from this hick brit knobhead.
once my eyes were beginning to adjust to the daylight and noise out on the street, i realized i had left my jacket and had to return back up there to get it.
sucha unsmooth exit and sucha hangover.
dailybridgerton
areudirty
amandla
