During spring break when I was about 22, I met a really hot “older” guy from Los Angeles. He’d told me he was 26 but was actually 32. For me, that was a big age difference at the time given my proneness to younger men. He had long-ish blond hair (more of a surfer look) with light eyes, was in great shape, wore combat boots with shorts, and had a unique look about him that stood out. We kept in touch and visited each other once – him coming to my area and me going to his place in Florida.
His place was really nice; apparently, he’d done a lot of remodeling on his own, which was impressive. Although he was very hospitable when I visited, he was seemed immature for someone in his 30s. For instance, he drove a sporty type of car (at some point I think we valet parked or something), and he blasted the music and opened the door as if to show off. That didn’t impress me; in fact, I felt embarrassed. We went to dinner and a club, the type of club I’d never go to on my own or with friends, because I really hate techno music. What really ruined it for me and made me never speak to him again happened once we got back to his place.
We started out making out in his kitchen. He had me on the counter, our tongues down each other’s throats, my legs wrapped around his. We moved to his couch where things really started to get heated and clothing started unbuttoning and unzippering. We stopped for a few minutes to take a breather or a bathroom break or whatever it was before moving to his bedroom. He’d gone back to the kitchen or something while I was lying there waiting.
For whatever reason, I immediately felt something wasn’t right and felt like I was being watched. My intution told me to look around, and sure enough, I saw a blinking red light coming from his closet. When I confronted him, Old School Perv gave me some lame ass excuse that it was going to be a “surprise” for us to watch later, which I suspected was a lie. I thought how fucking creepy and told him that I didn’t feel comfortable with any of it. It ruined the entire moment, and I got up and drove hours home and never spoke to him again.