Before reading any of this, you have to read my original Plenty of Fish dating story to get the background information.
And now for the conclusion …
So we’re dry humping as hard as humanly possible when I start realizing this might get her. She was completely beside herself, moaning and increasingly shuttering so I kept at whatever the hell I was doing: basically pushing up against her hard.
There was some pain on my part but nothing I couldn’t withstand. I wasn’t going to get anything more out of it but I wanted to get her.
Within 30 seconds, she reached that Rocky Mountain High as she released what appeared to be a lot of pent up sexual frustration. (I later realized the walls on this lower end apartment were paper thin. Her neighbors had to have been lying in bed with their eyes wide open.)
She asked me if I wanted to stay the night and, at this point, I really didn’t see why not — so I did. Between then and morning, I hit a triple three separate times, making her climax each time.
(You must read my 10 POF dating tips.)
In the morning hours, we held each other closely and cuddled for at least an hour. We made plans for a second date of visiting the museum that afternoon and me possibly staying over if I felt like it.
After a five hour break, we were at the museum where I pretended to give a damn about culture and history. (Actually, I do kind of like that stuff but, at that moment, I could have cared less.)
Given what had happened the previous night, all I could think about was having sex with her. I had brought six condoms (one and a backup for each occasion anticipated) and was ready for an amazing night.
Back to the date, we finished at the museum and then hit up dinner and had desert. We went back to her place and finished up Sherlock Holmes and talked a little bit before bedtime rolled around.
Now came the main event. The moment I had been waiting for. I was envisioning me at the plate, walloping easy pitches far over the left field fence over and over again.
When it came time for bed, there was no sexy apparel – just a t-shirt and long pajama shorts. Well, whatever, they’d be off in a second so it didn’t matter anyways.
After a little holding and kissing, she turned and yawned deeply.
Uh oh. That’s not good.
She then said: “What time do you want to wake up?”
What was going on? My night had gone from slam dunk to clown college in a matter of seconds. I was instantly depressed but allowed myself the consolation prize of morning sex.
“Oh well,” I thought, “At least there’s morning. She’s probably just tired.”
Morning comes and she has to be somewhere at 11. She doesn’t wake up until 9 which gave me virtually nothing to work with. Not that she acted interested at all.
I went from making her shudder and scream to getting shut out in the Home Run Derby the next day. I mean completely shut out. She had just pitched no-hitter on me. I got nothing but a few seconds of kissing.
The only conclusion I could arrive at was I was in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle of girl mind games. She knew what I would be expecting and acted like I was her grandma visiting for the night.
Welcome to the wild world of Plenty of Fish online dating. Great isn’t it?
(Read my tips to get POF girls to message you back!)