Turn down service, please

So, I met a guy on a lifestyle website… and this is how it turned out.

He’s coming to meet me because he lives out-of-town. I’m thinking, score! I’ve found a man with manners, yay! We decided to meet at the hotel bar where he was staying. I’m expecting to see an athletic build, 6’2, slim waisted, dirty blonde hair, 35 year old man.

I’m confronted with a man who looks 20 years my senior, broad chested, dark grey hair, hook nose, muscle bound man. He looked like my father! Hold up, actually my father is better looking than him. So, ignore that comparison.

Now that we’ve met, I realize oh shit this could be a problem. I’m now thinking where can we go where I won’t run into anyone I know…

We go to a local fine dining restaurant and of course, they sit us at the one table that is separate from all the other diners in the restaurant. They also seat us right next to each other at the table. Because a table where we could sit across from each other was just too much to ask for.

He wanted to play footsie under the table…Ugh.

We shared a bottle of wine an appetizer. We ordered one entrée, which we split. He said that he thought it would be better if we split everything. Because he knew I was watching my figure. 

WHAT THE FUCK!

That was the most rude/diplomatic way of saying: oh well, PS you might need to consume a little less food. Son of a bitch! We left the restaurant and went back to his hotel.

Sat down at the hotel bar where he proceeded to drink four scotches on the rocks. We sat down at the end of the bar. Can we say prying eyes, yes they certainly exist in small cities. He proceeded to tell me about other women he had been with and the lifestyles he shared with them. 

They were varied…

All I was thinking was, if you were 20 years younger maybe we could talk. But guess what I’m not retirement age yet, so that won’t work for me.

I notice that he’s getting a little sluggish, aka he’s drunk. Or another polite term we can use is “tipsy” or “under the weather”. I tell him I’m tired so we should wrap up the night. He stumbles and almost falls when getting off the bar stool. (Dumb ass) He drops his credit card too. I think, damn. Now I have to be a decent person and walk him up to his room. Just to make sure he gets there without dropping to the floor.

While in the elevator he’s constantly apologizing for being drunk. He never gets like this. He just got so comfortable in my company. He would love a re-do and I’m thinking: I’d like to go out with the man who was twenty years younger, not cheap, or drunk. But, we can’t always get what you want…

I finally get him up to his room, give him his room key, and lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He turns his body around to kiss me and he’s so far gone that the act of turning is too complicated for him. He trips over his own feet and falls into his room. He than proceeds to crawl over to the bed, while laughing.

Because what’s more hysterical than falling on your ass in front of your first date while being drunk? Isn’t that how we all want our first dates to go?

My thoughts: Why me? 

I tell him I’m going to use his restroom. I need to gather myself. I come out of the restroom and this is the scene I’m subjected to: He’s passed out half way on the bed, in his tighty whities, with his ass up in the air. He couldn’t quite manage to get his socks off though. Pesty little buggers, those socks. Oh, and did I forget to mention he’s snoring. It’s not a cute snore either. More like a OH MY GOD, I didn’t know human beings could make that noise and sleep!

The inner diva in me came out. He likes kink, so I thought okay. Mistress has come out to play.

I proceed to pull down his tighty whities, trapping him so he can’t move. I looked around the room, for a tool I can use for personal reprimand.

I luck up and find… a leather belt. I fold it in half and spank his ass.

This wakes up the snoring senior citizen. He flops over, but is still trapped by his own tighty whities. He looks up, perplexed.

I proceeded to spread my legs, lean over (remember, Mistress is in action now), and I say “Someone has been a very bad boy.” I of course think, he’s going to be pissed. I’m thinking he’s going to want to be released. But to my surprise, he’s grinning. He wants more! He’s never had the tables turned before.

So, now I’ve decided a little tease is in order. I crawl up on the bed towards him. Still fully clothed, to rub up against his chest, while I take his arms and place them gently above his head. I then proceed to take the leather belt (yes, the belt I used to smack his ass, it’s a multi purpose tool) and loop his hands to the headboard.

I crawl back off the bed. I proceed to make him think that I’m going to take off my clothes. I told him he’s been a BAD BOY. He agreed. I ask him “Really, how have you been a bad? He then admitted about not being honest. At this point I’m putting on my heels, but he’s thinking I’m taking them off…

I pick up the phone and call the front desk. I tell them that this room is NOT to be disturbed. He’s really loving this!

I proceed to pick up my purse. He looks at me shocked. He thought I was going to stay and play. I told him he needs a time out. He needs to think about what he’s done. Mistress does not like to be deceived. I turn off all the lights. I turn on the TV, just loud enough so no one can hear him.

I walk out of the room, and I turn the sign on the door knob to maid service. So, he can be found tied up basically naked on his own bed.

Moral of the story: Beware of the wearers of tighty whities

© southerngabunny