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How to Meet a
Billionaire
My horniness and a computer started
this. My curiosity and affinity for dating websites had led me to
meeting this man I had only known a week. Knowing him was a loose
term. Rather my past seven days of texting and emails of intense
flirting was my extent of knowing Brian.
Finally, we were meeting after
flirting, sexting, and many nights that left me masturbating. I
insisted it be during the day, a lunch date to be exact in a place
of my choosing. Now I waited, using his profile picture as my
distraction. The picture was only of his face, electric blue eyes
staring back at me with a clenched jaw and an expression that would
lead one to believe that he never smiled.
With every person that walked past me
I glanced to see if it was him.
He was late, but with a face like his
I could wait. In the meantime, I reread his dating profile. In the
area that described his personality he wrote, “Hard to love.” That
was exactly how I felt sometimes. But of course this would probably
be a lie like the rest of the guys online. To get in a desperate
girl’s pants, these men would say anything.
Little did anyone know, I was
desperate for someone to get in my pants. I hadn’t had a boyfriend
in three months, sex in five months, and good sex in a longer time
span than that.
I hope he likes big
girls. I crossed my fingers praying he
wasn’t expecting a skinny appetizer instead of me as full course
meal. I sipped water and thought of my Achilles heel. My weight
being 5’9 with more curves than a California highway. I always
deferred to my size as a point of reference when I was nervous.
Many times I used my culprit when things went wrong.
If Brian didn’t like me, it would be
because my breasts were bigger than one hand full. Or that my ass
wasn’t small enough for single digit clothing sizes. For some
reason, I just couldn’t process the fact that everything wasn’t
always about my weight. Plus I hated the game Men tried to play
with plus size women. They assumed we all have super low
self-esteem, so they try to prey and pounce on us like hungry lions
in the jungle. I was no gazelle, but I sure as hell wasn’t a dummy
either. I humored them and acted as if I didn’t know of their
plans.
I was a plus sized girl and for some
reason men assumed my brain cells decreased as my waist size,
expanded. Yet, here I was giving online dating a try since real
life meeting people wasn’t working out for me.
“ Kara?” I felt a long hand
radiate heat through my bare shoulder. Looking up and staring back
at me were the same blue eyes that I memorized from his
profile.
“ Brian?” I asked as if I
didn’t know. His suit fit his frame perfectly like it was tailored
just for him. His sand colored brown hair looked meticulously
styled with not one hair out of place. But that facial expression
was exactly the same, void of hair and a square box like jawline
that was hard like a fist ready to jab.
I gave a nervous giggle as I put out
my hand to shake his. Long fingers clasped my hand in a firm shake.
As big as I thought I was, under Brian’s glare I felt two inches
tall.
“ Sorry to keep you
waiting.” He didn’t return my smile, nor did he frown. More like an
indifferent neutral expression. Serious like this was a business
meeting deal instead of a date. “I had a meeting that ran over.” He
said now glancing around the bar.
“ So this is where you
wanted to meet?” He asked questioning my choices. I swallowed hard.
Feeling a tinge of embarrassment at my choice for our first
date.
“ Yeah, I feel safe here. I
know the place.” I defended the dive bar that stood as my makeshift
safe haven. The Shack was a legendary place that served me on many nights of
cramming, drinking binges, and pure boredom.
Dressed like he was expecting more of
a fine dining establishment. Instead of table clothed clad tables
there were old wooden booths with words carved into the dark oak
wood from patrons long gone. Tonight
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