There was nothing wrong with his penis, I just found it disgusting.
I kept thinking if they tried to have straight sex.
However, when he drove me home after date number 4, I knew I had to make a decision. After about an hour, he asked if I’d like a ride home, and I said yes without any trepidation. After a few minutes of making out in his car, he very tactfully asked, “Do you have to be at work early tomorrow? As it was, I simply told him to back off while I ushered Bob into my room. It did occur to me that he was the oldest person I’d been with.
He wasn’t expecting sex – I’d already laid in some major groundwork about having to get up early to go to LA – but if I just bolted the second he stopped the car the way I had previously, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to see me again. He did so, reluctantly, and Bob tried not to show his fear. He was only 7 years older than me, and I’d slept with a couple of dudes who were 9 years older, but that was many years before. In fact, all but one of them men I’d slept with since Martin had been younger than me.
He always took me to really cool restaurants – and I don’t mean the kind of places boring people think are cool (well regarded, safe, overpriced) – but genuinely awesome hole-in-the-walls, interesting ethnic food, with amazing beer lists – places I later showed off to my chef friends and got major cool points.