One of the best things about being single in NYC is that this city is lousy with men. Fine men. FIONE men! Everywhere. On almost every crowded street in Manhattan. And dating these fine (fione!) men proves to be quite an experience.
I've been hanging out with Mr. Yummy for a few weeks, and one night, we decide to get together for a midweek rendezvous. And this particular date goes down as one of Mommy Delicious' best dates in a long time.
When we meet up, he's coming straight from the office so he's dressed in business attire, only it's warm out so his sleeves are rolled up. When I see him, I tilt my head to one side and check him all the way out! Licking my bottom lips, I look him up and down. He is... yummy delicious. Definitely my type.
Before dinner, we spend some time on the rooftop, taking in the summer-like air and relishing in the amazing view of Manhattan. As we sit side-by-side, he makes me blush and laugh. A lot. He's funny. I like.
We have good chemistry, I think to myself. Quit daydreaming and pay attention to the conversation, I argue with myself. Ummm, what was he talking about again? Oops!
At this point, nervousness becomes me, but it's okay because he seems to have a slightly nervous energy too. Only he seems to be playing it off with swag and smooth talk. Charming. I like. Hopefully I'm doing the same. But in a more cute and sexy way, of course.
We engage in good conversation. Sweet! I once heard that good conversation is like foreplay. Tonight, this statement proves to be true.
I decide that I want him to kiss me. Like, now. So I blush, tilt my head, lick my bottom lip, and give my best "kiss me now" look. I've got fun and flirty down pat. I count in my head as I wait for the kiss that I know is coming.
One Mississippi... two Mississippi... three Mississippi...
No kiss. Bummer. Tough crowd, eh?
We decide that it's time to leave the rooftop so we say goodbye to the breathtaking view and head off to dinner. As we're walking out, he holds the door open for me to enter through first. Chivalry is not dead.
He likes my sexy legs and comments on the sexiness -- he can't help himself. I pretend not to hear him. "Huh?" I ask coyly. Obviously I want to hear this compliment again. I usually wear skirts. Short ones. But tonight I'm wearing short shorts and 4-inch heals. My legs are looking quite sexy.
I decide that I'm going to kiss him. Like, now. I can't help myself -- he's just so yummy! I then grab him by his waist. Bold move, I know. We embrace and my head rests a little too comfortably on his chest. He smells... delicious.
On the elevator ride to the ground level, he kisses me. Finally! And it's just as yummy as I remember it being. Passionate. Fireworks. Gimme-some-more. Yep... that kind of kiss.
This is so high school, I think to myself as I'm enjoying the kiss. I'm a diva at multitasking. Most women are. He stops just before we reach the first floor. "Okay, let's not act like we're in high school," he says. Those were my thoughts exactly. We're so compatible!
Still, at this point in the game, I'm not expecting too much, like long term or anything -- just a really good time on this date. And more than a few yummy kisses. Of course.
I definitely like what he does when he does what he does. And I definitely feel like I want to get to know him better, like in the biblical sense.
After dinner, we decide to take a stroll back to Yummy's place. As the cool breeze blows, he puts his arms around me as though they belong there. And I happily oblige by nestling into his strong embrace. I feel like a dating adolescent all over again. I love summer nights!
Mr. Yummy's apartment is not your typical 20-something-NYer Bachelor's pad. It's neat. And his furniture is so... grownup. Stylish, even. Nothing like my apartment, which is half comfy and cozy, half preschool looking, with Aiden's toys and bookcases and "masterpieces" hung all around.
The candles that Mr. Yummy lights create a delicate scent and a very sexy aroma. We exchange glances. And as much as I try not to, I'm grinning from ear to ear. And so is he.
The rest, as they say, is history.
"That's so romantic!" my friend exclaims when I'm filling her in on the details of my date.
Romantic? Yes! Certainly. Of course! But at this point, I’m still not expecting more than a good time with a good person on a good date. And a few yummy kisses.
At this point, there’ll be no giving more than I’m receiving, and certainly no investing more time and energy than is reciprocated.
And that’s definitely one of the best things about being single in NYC!