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I have had more than my fair share of blind dates, but this one set off all kinds of warning bells in me, and initially I ignore them. But my better judgment got the upper hand and I called it off in time. Intimate dating and I, are you could say, intimate, but when he coul dn’t wait to get me home, I smelled a rat.

I still have the feeling that this was a pretty narrow escape, why, I don’t know, simply instinct I suppose.

There was nothing unduly strange in the run-up to the day, I felt the guy was a bit “obvious”, but intimate dating was a means to an end for me after my divorce and I actually quite enjoyed the excitement of it all.

First it was a bad idea to have him pick me up at home, I should have met him under my own steam. This dude had his hands on me from the moment I stepped in his car – like he has known me for years? Intimate dating and intimacy is not an issue for me, I am not a prude, but I want a man to wait until I feel comfortable enough to invite him into my space.

I am not prudish, but this guy was freaky from the moment he picked me up, he was already trying to get his hands down my pants in the car on the way out to dinner. I am far from prudish, but I want to feel comfortable enough to invite a man into my space. He just assume this was where he should be and I was already feeling a little uncomfortable and out of my league.

We had a lot in common; demanding, well-paid jobs; we both read a lot and wrote and were intelligent. This tells me you should be able to control your paws, but he was pawing me all the time. After dinner he suggested tea, I though “OK” tea in a public place is fine – another mistake!

I gave him the benefit of the doubt and we drove off in his car, but no matter how I tried to engage him in conversation, he didn’t seem able to get his hands out of my pants and kept unzipping my jeans.

Against my better judgment I went inside with him. His home was lovely, but his hands were everywhere, so I said. “you mentioned tea?”. This had no bearing on him, he just kept groping me, I like to be wooed not attacked!

The last straw was when he bent me backwards over the arm of one of the sofas and still no tea. Pulled up my top and told me he was in love with my nipple. I had to get out of there, there was something not right. So I asked him to take me home.

I still today believe I am fortunate, he did take me home, but I firmly believe that with intimate dating one should listen to their instincts and this time I did.

Last Modified: July 16th, 2010
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