Blind dates are probably the closest thing to hell that is readily available to us. They’re awkward, they’re boring and they very rarely lead to success. I often ask myself why I even bother, but then, every once and a while it clicks.

After exchanging a few texts I decided to bite the bullet and meet up with another tinder guy. I figured I had tweaked my screening enough that I should be mostly ok, nobody too weird could make it through. After I had committed to the next evening he let slide that he was a “hipster at heart” well fuck, so much for my fail proof screening. But, it was too late to cancel so I decided to make the best of it. At the worst it was a night out…or another backdoor escape.

I arrived at the bar, a pretty classy place, and we see each other. He was wearing skinny jeans, perfect. I figure this is going to be a pretty short night. We sit down, he smiled and it just … Clicked. He was sweet and charming and all the regular stuff but, let’s be honest, nobody cares about that enough to blog about it right? So, what makes Mr. Hipster so special? He is the biggest tease I have ever met. I’m talking the kind of tease that makes you want to grab his hand and force it between your legs just to get some sort of release before you explode. The kind of tease that makes you want to get down on your knees and beg. The kind of tease that frustrates you but you can’t let go of. Even now, looking back on it fills me with equal parts excitement and embarrassment, it is rare that I let myself need something badly enough that I’m willing to do anything to get it.

The evening progressed over drinks while we played at asking each other random questions. It didn’t take long before the questions were dirty enough to make me blush. His arm was around me but he had been showing restraint. Then he casually leaned in so close I could feel his breath on my ear and whispered “I’m not going to fuck you tonight”. Excuse me? Challenge accepted. I spent a good hour with my hand on his cock but he held firm. No amount of touching or neck licking or sexual promises were going to make him budge. To make it that much worse I had found another dominant. He would tell me all the filthy things he wanted to do to me while simultaneously forbidding me to grab his dick. I tried to be good but the temptation was overwhelming. The more he denied me the more I needed it, I was becoming frantic. If Hipster could make me this wet without doing anything more than tugging on my hair, what would he accomplish with me naked?

I couldn’t stop imaging the scenario. We could sneak in to the bathroom without anybody noticing, there were private stalls. I was in a dress with no panties, it would be easy access. He seemed the type to throw me up against the wall, just a bit too hard, grab my hair with one hand as he forced my dress up with the other. “Quiet” he would order but it’s a command I doubt I could have obeyed. No time for foreplay, just a quick lick so he could ram his cock in. Pounding me hard with my face slamming against the wall. Tasting blood as I bit my tongue in a futile attempt to stay quiet. Ecstasy coming over me in waves as he finally neared climax. He would pull out in time to cover my ass in his warm, sticky mess then pull my dress down on top of it.

But fine, if he wanted to deny me I could play that game. I made sure that my touch made him hard, and kept him that way. I didn’t stop for a minute, I refused to give him time to calm down. A firm touch juxtapositioned with a soft tongue at the base of the neck. Two could play at this game and, if I’m being honest, I started to enjoy myself.

Too soon it was time to get the bill. I thanked him for a fun evening and promised I would see him again. We walked out of the bar and I asked him to get me to a cab. He insisted he drive me home, so we got in and I gave him directions.

I looked up and realized he was heading the wrong way, but when I brought it to his attention he replied “you’re coming to my place, I’m not finished teasing you yet”

Oh yeah Hipster? Challenge accepted.