Bad dates

It was a Tinder date. I wasn’t especially optimistic, and, it turns out, I had good reason not to be especially optimistic. I really should trust my gut.

It started badly — standoffish, defensive, closed. But her pussy was wet, and my cock was hard, and the evening improved from there.

I can predict the outcome of a date with near-perfect accuracy, which only raises the question of why I sometimes go on the ones I know will be bad.

I’ve had a few bad dates. But then again, too few to mention.

Snap judgments, Birkenstocks, and ostrich burgers: a date that was over before it started.

A night out with a new couple gets off to an inauspicious start.