I was on a really great date with a tall and slim, world-weary, gentle police detective.
We were waiting for the night tube back to his. We felt a bit aggrieved that we just missed one train and it was 15 minutes until the next one.
He apologised a few more times, in advance about the state of his flat, which he had recently moved into.
Apparently he had decorated his bedroom but the rest of the flat was still a mess. We had a long conversation about decorating and feature walls. Since I moved into my new flat, feature walls are one of my favourite topics of conversation. In my living room, I have one wall of stripy wallpaper, and every time I look at it, it makes me feel happy.
He told me he has one wall of ‘sapphire salute’ in his bedroom and three walls of steely grey. I couldn’t picture it and said it sounded like a bold choice.
He said “there’s a website called ‘Pinterest’ and I got the idea from that.”
I found that hilarious and said “yes, I have heard of Pinterest.”
We were on the Piccadilly line and I said “how long do you think you have to live in London before you stop finding ‘Cockfosters’ amusing?”
He said “I don’t think that ever happens! I mean, it’s got ‘cock’ in it!”
We got another Uber from the tube to his place. I think we held hands in the Uber. When we got out and walked to his front door, I noticed the sun was coming up.
When we got into his flat, he apologised again for the state of it.
It was really nice – a new build. He just needed to unpack properly. He hadn’t assembled his wardrobe yet and there was a single mattress in the living room, with a mountain of clothes on it.
I was desperate for a cup of tea, so he made me one. We spent a lot of time talking about tea in the kitchen. And by “we”, I mean “me”. He doesn’t drink tea and had very little to contribute to the conversation.
When we walked into his bedroom I saw the perfectly precise line, where sapphire salute met steely grey and said “WOW, look how neat your corners are! How did you do it!”
“Lots of Frog Tape and it took ages.” He said.
“Frog tape! I saw that in B&Q last weekend.” I said seriously, having a flashback of spending ages comparing the different tapes of masking tape. “It looks great. I thought those colours would be too oppressive but it looks like really great.”
He gave me a brand new toothbrush so I could clean my teeth.
We got into bed, and after I spent several minutes faffing around deliberating over where to put my cup of tea down, he kissed me. I really liked the way he kissed, and he seemed to really like kissing.
I think I didn’t 100% relax into the kissing because I kept worrying about what would happen next. It was my period and in principle, I’m not against period sex, even for a first time – my first time with the Great Scot was during my period and that’s in my Top 25 Shags of All Time.
But it felt different in someone else’s brand new bed. He had sapphire salute on his feature wall but I’m sure he didn’t want ruby salute on his sheets.
I also didn’t want to take clothes off due to the usual body hair admin concerns. If I’d had time to nip into my flat earlier, there were things I would have plucked.
Also, after the not great time I had with the musical vegan, I wanted to make sure I definitely wanted to do it, and I didn’t quite feel ready with him. I already felt like with him, I wanted a slow and steady, agonising wait, rather than a rushed smash and grab.
But we kissed a lot, and often ended up with him lying on top of me, in a very sexual way.
I had told him we couldn’t have sex because it was my period, but so many men think “no” is a starting point for negotiations. A few times I said things like “you know we can’t have sex, right?” and he seemed like he was already so clear on the fact we weren’t having sex, he was perplexed why I was reminding him.
A few times we said “we should go to sleep” as it was about 5am, but then would carry on kissing.
Eventually we did sleep. I didn’t sleep that well as I was too hot, fully clothed, and it was a warm night.
There were some items of clothing, like my tights, which I didn’t want to remove because it might make him want me less, because my legs were not completely hairless.
Then there were other items of clothing, like my dress, which I didn’t want to remove in case it made him want me more. I thought being semi-naked might undermine my stance about not wanting sex yet.
So I lay half-awake, roasting for most of the night.
He was spooning me a lot, which was nice. A few times he woke up briefly and shifted in bed, and kissed my shoulder.
He snored a little bit. I think literally every man I’ve shared a bed with recently has snored. The problem is, when you’re not in a relationship with them, you haven’t reached the stage where you can prod them and tell them to turn over.
In the morning, we woke up, and I sleepily asked him to check his phone and see if there was any news on the Irish Abortion Referendum.
He said the exit polls suggested there would be a landslide victory for the Yes Vote to Repeal the 8th Amendment, which banned abortion.
I realised I really needed the toilet, to do something quite significant. I think it never occurred to me not do certain essential biological processes in a man’s house, until, as an impressionable youngster, I saw an episode of Sex and the City where they talked about it.
I was torn between wanting to do it, to make a statement about how ridiculous it is to pretend not to be human, as well as really fucking needing the toilet, but also not wanting him to hear or smell anything that might put him off me.
We were kissing and I pulled away sharply because I got a pain in my stomach, and I thought I don’t think I have a choice here.
Then his phone rang and it was his bank, saying his card details had been cloned.
I thought oh I think it’s retreating! I think I can wait until I get home!
Then I started to feel like I’d been impaled on a banister, and realised I definitely couldn’t wait.
As he was on the phone, I thought it was a good opportunity to go for it.
I went into his bathroom and realised to my horror that there was only about 4 sheets of toilet paper left, and the new roll didn’t seem to be anywhere obvious.
A trick I’ve learnt is to put a couple of pieces of toilet paper down the toilet immediately before, as a ‘plop muffler’, so I wasted 2 of the precious 4 sheets doing that.
Then, it went OK, and amazingly, there was just enough toilet paper.
I felt like a new woman when I came out of the bathroom and made myself some more tea. He was being quite masterful and policemanly on the phone with the person from his bank, as there was some doubt about whether he’d get all his money back. I heard him say “what’s your point?…. well if they have, that’s a criminal offence…” and frankly, I found that quite hot.
Sorting out this bank issue took a while, and then, when he got off the phone, he was faffing around on his phone for ages, because he realised his card being cancelled had meant our Uber hadn’t been paid for. This was probably the least entertaining part of the date, but I didn’t mind.
After that had been sorted, he pulled me towards him and we started kissing again. We ended up lying down again, with him on top of me. He held one of my hands down, next to my head on the pillow, which I found incredibly hot.
He kissed my neck. I used to really like that, but then, when I was in my 20s, one time a guy in a club kissed my neck and I ended up with 4 lovebites, which was terrible. I was mortified when I had to go into work. So now, whenever anyone goes near my neck, I kind of wince and think please don’t leave a mark.
However, when he kissed my neck, I thought I feel really safe with this guy.
From the way our kissing styles matched, and the way he held my hand down, I had the sense that if we had sex, it would be really fucking good.
After a while, we sat up again. He said earnestly “I had a really good time, and I’d like to see you again.”
“Me too!” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this… but I think if we do have sex at some future point, it will be really good.”
He said he was sorry if he had made me feel uncomfortable, when we were kissing and it got heated, but I said he hadn’t at all.
He was spending the day watching cricket with his friend, so we had to go. We got the bus together, and then the tube.
We were standing in the aisle of a tube carriage, and he stroked my elbow, which I found surprisingly exciting, and then kissed me. I really liked this, because lots of guys I’ve dated recently have been against public displays of affection, and also, some have seemed to think kissing is just one of the steps towards sex, but this guy really seemed to like kissing for the sake of kissing.
Then, the train shuddered and we stumbled, and I thought we’d better stop kissing as I didn’t want us to be that annoying couple.
When we got off the train, we had to go our separate ways as I was getting on a southbound train, and he was getting a northbound one.
We kissed on the platform, in everybody’s way, and then he said “I had a really good time. So let me know when you’re free”, and then we got separated by the crowd.