I arrived at The Kisser’s house and let myself in as instructed.
He stood up from his place on the couch, walked toward me and immediately began kissing the hell out of me.
Mmmmm! They was as good as I remembered!!
Unlike the first/last time, there was no small talk while we sat and got comfortable with each other – I don’t even know why he led me over to his couch! We only kissed there for a couple of moments before he said, “I’m gonna cum all over the living room before I even taste your pussy! Let’s go to the bedroom.”
Things with him have been driving me batty. I felt like I needed a break in perspective (whatever that means).
So, Wednesday I turned my Tinder profile back on, changed my distance settings from 10 miles to 50 and started swiping (left mostly).
As (bad) luck would have it, I matched with someone whose profile seemed pretty awesome. Especially the fact that it stated he was moving to Steamboat Springs (3 hours away) at the beginning of June. (He currently lives almost 40 minutes from my house so, even if he wasn’t moving, that in itself would be enough reason for me not to want to get too involved.)
Perfect! Something fun and very temporary.
Whatever… That’s not how it turned out.
I sent him a note and waited to see if he would respond. Within 24 hours he did:
OK great… I’m moving to Steamboat Springs and Tinder finally lights up.