We met at a party, hooked up, he finger fucked me and then I went home. He got my number and texted me a couple weeks later asking me if I’m a virgin. I reply truthfully and tell him yes. “Ooohh that’s good,” he says. I’m confused and ask him why. He tells me that he doesn’t like girls who sleep around, and then tells me that he’s only slept with two girls ever, and that he dated both of them for a while first.
We were looking at photos on his phone of his basketball team.
“Those are the team managers,” he said, “They’re such huge sluts.”
I laughed nervously in a way which I hoped was cute.
“All they do is sleep with the guys on the team,” he continued. “Not me though,” he hurriedly assured me. I laughed some more.
He tossed a calendar to me while I was sitting in his bed, waiting. “A professional cheerleader sent that to me,” he said. “She wrote a message to me inside, you can read it if you want, it’s not a big deal or anything.”
I read it, “Cute,” I say as I put it down.
Instead of taking me out for dinner as originally planned, we watched a movie and I gave him head, so later when he got hungry we went out to get Oreos and chips. As we were getting in his truck he said “Nothing happened between me and her by the way.”
“You and who?” I ask.
“Me and the cheerleader,” he replies. “I met her on a cruise, but we didn’t do anything.”
“Oh.. Cool..” I decide on staying indifferent.
“She was standing by the pool, I actually almost like, killed her,” he laughs.
“Of course you did,” I laugh with him.
“She’s standing by the pool in a bikini telling all these guys that she can’t swim and I think she’s lying to get attention, so I push her in the pool to find out. I mean what kind of dumb bitch wears a swimsuit to the pool, and then tell everyone about how she can’t swim?” he asks.
“Sounds pretty dumb to me,” I agree.
“Turns out she wasn’t lying and actually can’t swim, and I had to dive in there after and save her life,” he finishes.
“That’s hysterical,” I concur.